NATHAN

NATHAN

I was stalling.

Her apartment had grown quiet except for the rhythmic ticking of a clock on the wall, but I stayed seated at her table, watching her stack dishes in the sink. My car was fixed. My excuse to linger here was gone. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

She moved with a confidence that was uniquely Camilla. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone…least of all me…but damn, she did. I traced the curve of her spine with my eyes as she walked back into the living room, her bare feet soft against the floorboards.

I should have been thinking about Eleanor. About Trish. About Alicent. About the cold-blooded satisfaction I would feel when the truth about Eleanor’s death finally saw the light of day. But all I could think about was how Camilla and how I should be apologizing to her.

“You’re awfully quiet,” she said, sitting across from me, tilting her head to study me.

“I have been accused of worse.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are always like this. Mysterious and brooding. You would be less annoying if you just said what you were thinking for once.”

If only she knew.

I wanted to apologize for being an ass to her. I wanted to tell her I wasn’t this person…not really. But I couldn’t. If I let her in, she would find out how broken I was inside, if she hasn’t already…how consumed I was by the need for revenge.

And she would run to the far ends of the earth to be away from me.

“I am thinking about Denver Constructions,” I lied smoothly. “We need to finalize that proposal before the submission deadline.”

Her lips twitched in a soft smile, and for a second, I thought I had gotten away with it. But then she leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand.

“You are deflecting.”

Damn it.

“And you are imagining things,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

Her laugh was soft, like a whisper of temptation. “Right. That’s why you have been sitting here like a statue for the past ten minutes.”

“I was thinking,” I said defensively.

“Oh, please. You don’t sit still when you are thinking. You pace. You brood. This?” She gestured at me. “This is guilt.”

My jaw tightened. She wasn’t wrong.

Guilt had been gnawing at me since I walked into her apartment. Guilt for the way I had treated her. Guilt for letting myself care about her. Guilt for how badly I wanted her.

“I was wrong,” I said finally.

Her brows lifted, surprise flickering in her eyes. “About?”

“About you,” I admitted. “About… us.”

It was the closest I could get to an apology without unraveling completely.

Camilla blinked, her expression unreadable. Then she shrugged. “It’s not like you were the first person to underestimate me.”

I wanted to tell her that she deserved more than my half-assed apology. That she deserved more than I could give her. But instead, I said, “You are not easy to forget, Camilla.”

Her eyes softened. “Neither are you, Nathan.”

The air between us shifted. It was subtle at first, like the stillness before a storm. But then her gaze dropped to my mouth, and I was done for.

I got to my feet, needing to put distance between us before I did something stupid.

“We should probably focus on Denver Constructions,” I said. “If the proposal gets approved, we will be representing the same firm. Imagine that—Rodrigues and Clark, the dream team… who would have thought?”

She snorted. “You are avoiding the topic again. Do you ever get tired of running?”

I laughed, but it came out forced. “Do you ever get tired of drinking until I have to carry you home?”

Her mouth fell open in mock outrage. “That happened one time.”

“Once is enough,” I said, grinning. “Seriously, Camilla. Don’t drink like that when I am not there to save you.”

Her smirk faded, replaced by something softer. “Why do you care?”

The question hit me like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

Why did I care? Because she was Camilla. Because she was warm and alive and everything I shouldn’t want.

“I should get going,” I said, moving toward the door.

But she followed me.

When I stopped at the threshold, she was right behind me, so close I could feel her heat against my back. I turned around slowly, and suddenly we were face-to-face, her lips inches from mine.

I should have walked away. I should have kept my distance. But the words she had said earlier replayed in my head, and before I knew it, I was leaning in.

“Fuck it,” I muttered, and then my mouth was on hers.

The kiss was a slow burn at first, tentative and testing. But when she sighed against my lips, everything inside me ignited. I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, my other hand tangling in her hair.

Her hands slid up my chest, her nails grazing my skin through my shirt. It wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted all of her.

Camilla pressed against me, and a low growl escaped my throat. I deepened the kiss, my tongue tracing the seam of her lips, and she opened for me, meeting me halfway.

I was losing myself in her, drowning in her touch, her scent, her taste. For the first time in weeks, I felt alive.

But then she pulled back, her breath coming in soft pants.

“Nathan,” she said, her voice shaky. “I can’t… not like this.”

“Camilla…”

She shook her head, stepping away. “You need to figure out whatever is going on in your head before you drag me into it.”

“I’m trying…”

“Not hard enough,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

Then she opened the door and stepped aside, her eyes meeting mine. “Goodbye, Nathan.”

The door slammed shut behind me, and I stood there for a moment, staring at the wood grain like it held all the answers.

I told myself it was for the best. That if I stayed, I would not have been able to stop. But as I got into my car, my hand reaching for the ignition and all I could think about was the way she had felt in my arms.

My phone buzzed in the console. I answered without looking at the screen.

“Christian,” I said, my voice hard. “Where are we on Trish and Alicent?”

Christian sighed. “Right to business, huh? Fine. I have got a lead on the shipment records from Trish’s company. It is not enough to tie her directly to Eleanor’s poisoning, but it is suspicious as hell. A pharmaceutical order matching the timeline is flagged under her name, but…”

“But what?” I demanded, my patience wearing thin.

“It is thin,” he admitted. “A good lawyer would tear it apart. We need more.”

My teeth clenched. More. It was always more. Evidence, patience, time…all things I was running out of.

“What about the witness” I asked, my voice rough.

“We no longer have that, remember? Since you decided to confront Trish about it.”

Of course I remembered.

I also remembered Leila.

Since we had met at Sarah’s, she had been quiet… way too quiet for someone who had such a big bone to pick with me so I had asked Christian to delve into it for me too.

Just routine check to be sure of what she was up to.

“And Leila?”

“She has been quiet. Too quiet.” Christian’s tone darkened. “I don’t like it. She is not the type to sit back and play nice.”

“She is waiting for something,” I muttered.

“Exactly. Which is why I am keeping tabs on her.”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “If she makes a move, I want to know immediately.”

“Of course,” he said, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “Now, are you going to tell me where the fuck you are?”

I glanced to the side, still sitting in front of Camilla’s apartment.

“On my way to you” I deflected.

“You are distracted” Christian stated. “I know this is because of Camilla but you cannot afford to be now when they are unto us so whatever it is going on between the both of you, you have to shelf it for later or this will go very badly”

My grip on the wheel tightened. “I’m not distracted.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. “I know you too well for me not to spot a lie when I see one”

I cursed under my breath. Of course he would pick up on that. Christian knew me too well, had been with me through every painstaking step of this plan. He could read me better than I cared to admit.

“I have it under control,” I said tightly.

“Do you really?” Christian scoffed.

“Yes and I know what I am doing so you can lay off,” I snapped.

“Do you?” His tone was sharper now. “Because from where I am standing, you are walking a fine line between revenge and self-destruction.”

His words hit harder than I cared to admit. I had been telling myself the same thing for weeks.

“What do you want me to say, Christian?” I said finally, my voice low. “That I am losing my edge? That I am letting my guard down because of her? Fine. You are right. But it doesn’t change anything. Trish and Alicent are still going to pay for what they did.”

Christian sighed again. “Good. Because I AM not pulling you out of this mess if you screw it up.”

“You never have,” I said, managing a faint smirk.

“Damn straight,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Now, get your head on straight. I will update you if I find anything else.”

The line went dead, and I tossed the phone back onto the seat, my chest tight with unresolved tension.

I turned on the ignition and packed away, glancing in the rear-view mirror, half-expecting to see Camilla’s face there, her lips swollen from my kiss, her eyes filled with something I didn’t deserve.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

And yet, I wasn’t sure I wanted it to stop.