Elle sips her coffee, seemingly focused on her phone, but I catch the slight flush rising on her neck. Whether from Caleb’s proximity or her struggling blockers, I can’t tell.
Either way, it’s a vulnerability she’d hate having exposed.
I find myself moving without conscious decision, shifting to stand between them. Not obviously protective—that would insult her capability and alert Caleb to my interest. Just a simple repositioning that breaks his sight line and creates a buffer.
“Weather report says the storm’s intensifying,” I comment, keeping my tone casual. “Another low pressure system moving in from the east. We could be here through the weekend.”
Elle’s eyes lift to mine, gratitude flickering briefly before her professional mask returns. “I’ve already contacted the summit organizers. They’re rescheduling the major presentations for early next week.”
Caleb groans dramatically. “A whole weekend in paradise with nothing to do but enjoy ourselves? How will we corporate drones survive without spreadsheets and PowerPoints?”
The conversation halts as Adrian enters, radiating tension like heat from asphalt.
His hair is perfectly styled despite the early hour, his button-down shirt crisp and unwrinkled. Even trapped on a tropical island during a storm, Adrian Cole refuses to appear anything less than immaculate.
Control as armor.
His eyes sweep the kitchen, cataloging our positions with laser focus. He clocks Caleb’s deliberate casualness, my strategic position near Elle, the coffee mug in her hand that I clearly prepared. His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.
“Morning,” he says curtly, moving to the coffee maker. Finding it empty, his shoulders stiffen further.
“I can make more,” Elle offers immediately, already setting down her mug.
“Don’t,” I say, the word sharper than intended. They both look at me, surprised. I modulate my tone. “I’ll do it. You haven’t finished yours.”
Adrian’s eyes narrow, something dangerous flickering in their gray depths. “No need. I can make my own coffee.”
He moves with mechanical precision, measuring beans, grinding them with more force than necessary. The harsh whir fills the kitchen, underscoring the tension crackling between us all.
Caleb, ever the provocateur, sidles closer to Elle again. “How did you sleep, Elle? Those storm winds kept me up half the night. I kept thinking about how exposed we all are out here on this cliff.”
The double entendre isn’t subtle. Neither is the way he deliberately uses her first name, marking familiarity she hasn’t granted.
Elle takes another small step back, her spine straightening.
“I slept adequately, thank you,” she replies, professional pleasantry firmly in place. “The resort’s soundproofing is excellent.”
Adrian slams a report binder down on the counter with enough force to make Elle jump slightly. The binder—thick, color-coded tabs protruding from its edges—lands between Caleb and Elle like a physical barrier.
“The Singapore presentation needs revision,” Adrian announces, voice clipped. “I’ve marked sections that require updating given the delay.”
It’s transparent, his need to reassert the professional nature of our forced proximity. To remind us all—especially Elle—that this is a business trip, not a social occasion.
Not an opportunity for Caleb’s flirtation or my whatever this is.
“Of course,” Elle responds, already reaching for the binder. “I’ll review it immediately.”
“We should maintain professional optics at all times,” Adrian continues, gaze flicking between Caleb and me. “Despite our unusual circumstances.”
Caleb smirks. “Professional optics? We’re trapped on a private island during a tropical storm. Who exactly are we maintaining optics for, Adrian? The seagulls?”
“For ourselves,” Adrian retorts. “Lines blur easily in informal settings. I prefer clarity.”
What he means is: stay away from my assistant.
The territorial display would be comical if it weren’t so transparent. Adrian Cole, master of control, suddenly finding his carefully ordered world disrupted.
Not just by the storm or the forced proximity to business rivals, but by the undercurrent we’re all pretending not to notice—Elle’s slowly failing blockers and what that means for three Alphas trapped with her.
