Riley lingered, of course, sidling closer to Keith with a too-bright smile. “You know,” she began, her tone dripping casual charm, “if you ever want a fresh perspective on the resort’s guest experience, I could show you a few ideas over dinner.”
Theo snorted under his breath, not even pretending to hide it.
Keith’s reply was measured. “Of course, Miss Hayes. I’ll be having dinner with the entire team tonight. We can discuss then.” he said, not looking up from the documents he was gathering.
“Oh,” Riley said, her voice a touch too high, smile faltering before she masked it. “That sounds great.”
I ducked my head, pretending to study the blueprints as my mind replayed last night’s moment.
“Aurelia?” Theo’s voice snapped me back, his brow raised, a teasing edge to his tone. “Girl! You with us? You’re staring at that blueprint like it’s a puzzle you can’t crack.”
Heat flooded my face, and I glanced up to find everyone watching me, including Keith, his gaze unreadable but intense, like he could see straight through to my thoughts. “I’m fine,” I said quickly, clearing my throat. “Just thinking about the villa layouts. I propose sliding glass panels in the private suites, open to the lagoon views during the day, closed for privacy at night. It ties into the seamless indoor-outdoor aesthetic we’re aiming for.”
Keith tilted his head, eyes narrowing as a faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Sliding panels?” he echoed, his tone laced with amusement. “You do realize the eastern villas face the strongest winds on the island, right? Unless you’re designing a wind tunnel, that’s not going to work. Fixed glass with smart tinting is the only logical choice.”
He leaned back slightly, gaze still locked on me. “I expected more attention to detail from someone with your résumé.”
The critique landed like a pinprick, not because he was wrong, he wasn’t, but because it came from him, delivered with that calm, authoritative tone that made me feel exposed. My cheeks burned, and I nodded, scribbling a note to cover my embarrassment. “Good point. Smart tinting it is.”
Vanya jumped in, steering the conversation to spa color schemes, and the discussion rolled on. We debated textures, linen versus silk for upholstery, bamboo versus reclaimed teak for furniture, and hashed out timelines. Keith offered input sparingly, each comment razor-sharp, either refining an idea or pointing out a practical flaw. His presence dominated the shed, not just as the client but as aforce, every word, every glance carrying weight. I tried to focus, adding thoughts on eco-friendly lighting and textured wall panels, but my eyes kept drifting to him. The way his fingers brushed the edge of his coffee cup, the subtle flex of his forearm, it was distracting in a way I couldn’t shake.
The meeting stretched on, the sun sinking lower, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange, pink, and violet. By the time we wrapped up, the air had cooled slightly, the lagoon reflecting the sunset’s fiery palette. The team gathered their things, chattering about dinner and tomorrow’s site tour. I lingered, organizing my sketches, trying to shake the embarrassment of Keith’s correction. Theo stayed too, helping me roll up the blueprints, his movements casual but his eyes sharp.
“You sure you’re okay, babe?” he asked quietly, stacking papers. “You’ve been off all day. Something about this island, or someone, got you distracted?”
I see him smiling. I force a smile as well, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Just the pressure of the project, Theo. Big stakes, you know? I’m good.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but before he could press further, Keith’s voice cut through the quiet. “Aurelia, a word?”
My heart skipped, a jolt of adrenaline shooting through me. Theo’s eyebrows shot up, and he gave me that look, half-teasing, half-knowing, like he’d caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. I shot him a glare, but he just smirked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, winking as he sauntered out of the shed, leaving me alone with Keith.
The space felt smaller now, the air thick with the scent of salt and teak. Keith stood, his silhouette framed against the fiery sky, the light catching his linen shirt and turning his tanned skin almost bronze. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I saw the Keith from last night, the one who’d talked through me in the pool, his voice soft and warm setting my skin ablaze.
“I wanted to address your suggestion about the glass panels,” he said, stepping closer, his voice low and steady, but with an undercurrent that made my pulse quicken. He stopped just a foot away, close enough that I could smell the faint cedarwood of his cologne, mixed with the salty tang of the island air. “It wasn’t a bad idea, just incomplete. You’re thinking big, but the details matter.”
I crossed my arms, a spark of defiance flaring despite the butterflies in my stomach. “You like finding faults with me, Mr. Krogen?”
His lips twitched, a ghost of a smile that sent a flutter through my chest. He stepped even closer, his presence overwhelming, the space between us shrinking to mere inches. “It’s not about faults, Aurelia,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur that sent shivers down my spine. “It’s about precision,” he said, his tone smooth but edged with arrogance. “You’ve got talent, no doubt about that. But brilliance means nothing if you overlook the small details. That’s where I come in.”
The words hit me like a tidal wave, warm and disarming, making my knees feel unsteady. His gaze dropped to my lips, lingering there with a hunger that mirrored the heat building in my chest. The moment stretched, heavy with possibility, my pulse racing as his gaze held me captive. I wanted to lean in, to feel his lips on mine, to taste the cognac and smoke that lingered from last night.
His phone buzzed, shattering the moment like glass. He cursed under his breath, pulling it from his pocket, his jaw tightening. “Victor,” he answered, his tone clipped, all traces of warmth gone. He listened for a moment, then sighed. “I’ll be there.”
He pocketed the phone, his eyes meeting mine again, softer now but still guarded. “We’ll continue this at dinner,” he said, his voice low, promising more than just a meal. With that, he turned and strode out of the shed. His silhouette cutting through the sunset’s glow, leaving me standing there, my heart pounding, my skin flushed.
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing, my mind a whirlwind of what had just happened. “Oh, great,” I muttered, pressing my palms to my burning cheeks. “Now I’m blushing like some schoolgirl who just got noticed by the star baseball pitcher... Amazing. Professionalism: Zero.”
Chapter 9
Keith
The dining area of the resort was alive with the soft hum of conversation and the clink of silverware against fine china. I sat at the head of the table, surrounded by the design team. Victor hovered nearby, ever the efficient shadow, ensuring the wine flowed and the courses arrived seamlessly.
Theo was in the middle of a story, his hands gesturing wildly. "So there I was, in Milan, trying to convince this artisan that recycled glass could look just as luxe as crystal. The guy looks at me like I've suggested painting the Mona Lisa with crayons. But hey, we got the contract!"
Vanya laughed. "Theo, you could sell sand to a beach. Steven, back me up. Didn't he pull that off in Tokyo too?"
Steven glanced up, adjusting his glasses. "Yeah, something about bamboo chandeliers. Turned out brilliant."
