Chapter 5

five

?. . .?

Chrissy

I stare intently at my computer screen, trying to lose myself in the intricate details of Zander's schedule for the upcoming week. The cursor blinks, taunting me with each passing second. His presence lingers at the edges of my consciousness, a constant distraction despite my best efforts to avoid him.

The door to my office swings open and Zander strides in, his tailored suit hugging his lean frame in all the right places. My breath catches in my throat as our eyes meet, a startling jolt of electricity passing between us.

"Chrissy, I need the quarterly reports on my desk by noon," he says, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. His gaze lingers a moment too long before he turns and leaves, the air still crackling with tension in his wake.

With shaking hands, I return to my work, determined to push thoughts of Zander from my mind. But it's a futile effort. He's everywhere—in the spicy scent of his cologne that clings to the air, in the ghost of his touch on my skin from accidental brushes in the hallway.

A soft knock at the door jolts me from my reverie. I glance up to see Zander's assistant, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips as she hands me a small, elegantly wrapped box.

"From Zander," she says simply before disappearing.

With trembling fingers, I open the gift to reveal a stunning silver bracelet, the delicate links glinting in the fluorescent light of my office. A note flutters out, Zander's bold script searing into my mind.

"A token of my appreciation for all your hard work. Wear it and think of me. - Z"

My heart races as I clasp the bracelet around my wrist, the cool metal a constant reminder of his presence. I shouldn't accept it, shouldn't encourage whatever this is between us. But I can't bring myself to take it off.

As I lose myself once more in the monotony of spreadsheets and emails, Zander's face swims before my eyes, his heated gaze promising things I dare not even imagine. Each keystroke becomes a battle, a desperate attempt to maintain the professional distance I know we need.

But with every passing day, every stolen glance and secret gift, I feel my resolve crumbling. Zander Shaw is a force to be reckoned with, and I fear I may be powerless to resist his charms much longer.

***

The glittering lights of the ballroom dance across my skin as I weave through the crowd, my heart beating in time with the soft jazz that fills the air. This is a company affair, a charity gala, that Zander demanded we all attend.

I'm no idiot. I know why. He wasn't going to give me a chance to get away from him.

I can feel Zander's presence like a physical touch, his eyes tracking my every move from across the room.

I take a steadying breath, smoothing my hands over the rich fabric of my gown. It clings to my curves like a second skin, the deep crimson hue a stark contrast to my usual conservative attire. A daring choice, but one that makes me feel powerful, desirable.

As if drawn by an invisible force, Zander materializes at my side, his hand grazing the small of my back. Electricity crackles between us, the heat of his touch searing through the thin silk.

"You look stunning," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "I can't take my eyes off you."

I flush, my skin tingling with awareness. "Zander, we can't..."

But he's already leading me onto the dance floor, his arm sliding around my waist as he pulls me close. The scent of his cologne envelops me, rich and intoxicating, as we begin to move in perfect sync.

"Just one dance," he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Let me have this moment with you."

I close my eyes, letting the music wash over me as Zander guides me across the floor. His touch is electric, his body molding to mine as if we were made for each other. The world falls away until there's nothing but the two of us, lost in the rhythm of our own private melody.

As the song draws to a close, Zander's hand lingers on my hip, his thumb tracing slow circles that send shivers down my spine. I know I should pull away, put some distance between us before someone notices. But I can't seem to make myself move, caught in the web of his intense gaze.

"Meet me on the balcony in five minutes," he breathes, his voice low and urgent. "I need to talk to you alone."

Then he's gone, melting into the crowd like a phantom. I stand frozen, my heart racing as I try to gather my scattered thoughts. The rational part of me knows I should ignore his request, maintain the professional boundaries I've fought so hard to establish.

But the ache in my chest, the yearning that's been building with every stolen moment and secret touch, propels me forward. Before I can second-guess myself, I'm slipping through the French doors, the cool night air a balm against my flushed skin.

Zander's already waiting, his silhouette outlined against the twinkling city lights. He turns as I approach, his eyes darkening with an emotion I can't quite name.

"Chrissy," he says softly, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. His fingers linger, tracing the delicate line of my jaw. "I can't keep pretending that I don't feel this...this connection between us."

I swallow hard, my pulse thundering in my ears. "Zander, we can't do this. You're my boss, and I've worked too hard to jeopardize my career."

"I know," he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. "But I can't ignore what's happening here. Can you honestly tell me you don't feel it too?"

His words hang in the air between us, heavy with unspoken desire. I know I should deny it, push him away and retreat to the safety of my carefully constructed walls.

But as Zander's lips hover a mere breath from mine, his hand curving possessively around my hip, I realize I'm tired of fighting this irresistible pull. Consequences be damned, I want to surrender to the fire that's been smoldering between us for far too long.

My eyes flutter closed, my body swaying instinctively toward his. "Zander," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. "Please..."

With that single word, all pretense of restraint shatters. Zander's mouth crushes against mine, his kiss hungry, consuming, as if he has been waiting for this moment as long as I have. His tongue traces my lower lip, seeking entry, and I can't help but part my lips for him.

The taste of him is intoxicating, his touch igniting a fire that burns hotter than any November flame. I'm lost in the storm of sensations as he deepens the kiss, his hands roaming my curves with a possessiveness that should terrify me.

But instead, I'm consumed by a need I've never before experienced, my body melting into his as if we were always meant to be together. The tension that has been simmering between us for days finally boils over, and I find myself clinging to him, desperate for more.

Our hands are everywhere, exploring, cataloging, our clothes seeming to melt away as we yield to the heat between us. It's only when our hands brush against the cold concrete wall that we both freeze, reality crashing down around us like unrelenting rain.

I pull away, gasping for air, my heart pounding in my ears. "Zander, we...we shouldn't have done that." I can't meet his eyes, and I know my cheeks are aflame.

"Why not?" he growls, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You felt as good in my arms as I did having you in them."

"Because...because we work together, and...and it's inappropriate." I can hear the desperation in my voice, but I can't seem to stop myself from making excuses.

Zander's laugh is harsh, bouncing off the walls of our dark sanctuary. "Inappropriate? Chrissy, I'm the damn boss, and I don't give a fuck. It's not like you're going to get fired. I won't allow it."

He's right, of course. But I can't admit that out loud, not to him, not when everything is so raw and vulnerable between us.

"But that's just it, Zander! People find out about us, and all my hard work is undermined. I'll become the girl who slept her way to the top. Please, we have to forget about all this." I gather my composure, straightening my clothes and wiping the remnants of our passion from my lips, though my voice sounds unconvincing even to my own ears.

"Can we?" His voice is dangerously soft, sending shivers down my spine. "I don't think I can forget the way you felt in my arms, the way you taste...I've waited too long for this, Chrissy. I'm not giving you up now."

The intensity in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine, and I can feel myself wavering. "Zander, we can't...it's...it's just...so..."

"Wrong?" his voice is an angry growl in my ear as he steps closer, his warmth enveloping me once again. "I don't know about you, but that felt pretty damn right to me." His fingers brush against my cheek, sending electricity through my veins. "Don't you ever say that we're wrong, Chrissy. Nothing is this fucking world is more right."

I step back abruptly, my chest heaving with the effort to regain control. "No, Zander. We can't do this. Not here, not now."

Zander's eyes flash with frustration, his jaw clenching as he runs a hand through his tousled hair. "Why not, Chrissy? Why can't we just give in to what we both want?"

"Because it's not that simple!" I snap, my voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion. "I have worked too hard to get where I am, and I won't risk it all for a fleeting moment of passion."

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming in the intimate space. "Who says it has to be fleeting? Chrissy, I want more than just a moment with you."

I close my eyes, fighting the temptation to melt into his arms and forget the world outside. But the nagging voice of reason persists, reminding me of the potential consequences.

"I can't, Zander. Please, don't make this harder than it already is." My words are a whispered plea, a desperate attempt to hold onto the last shreds of my resolve.

Zander's chest heaves up and down, and he looks like an overheated bull that's about to gore someone.

He finally steps back, the cool night air rushing between us like a physical barrier. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling chilled to the bone.

"I should go," I murmur, turning to leave before I can change my mind.

As I walk away, I feel Zander's gaze burning into my back, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. My heart aches with each step, torn between the desire to turn back and the knowledge that I must keep moving forward.

The journey home passes in a blur, my mind replaying the events of the evening in an endless loop. By the time I reach my apartment, I'm exhausted, emotionally drained, and more confused than ever.

I sink onto my couch, burying my face in my hands as the tears finally come. I'm angry at myself for letting things go this far, angry at Zander for making me feel things I've tried so hard to suppress.

But beneath the anger is a yearning so deep it takes my breath away. I want Zander with every fiber of my being, even as I know that pursuing this relationship could be my undoing.

As I sit in the darkness, the weight of my decision pressing down on me, I realize that I can't keep running from my feelings. I need to set clear boundaries, to make Zander understand that our professional lives must remain separate from any personal connection we may share.

But even as I make this resolution, I know that my heart isn't fully on board. Because no matter how hard I try to fight it, Zander has already claimed a piece of my soul that I fear I may never get back.