The unexpected validation made her chest tight. When was the last time someone had encouraged her to own her achievements rather than diminish them for other’s comfort?
“Actually,” she heard herself saying, “I write a blog about architectural design around the city. Design Around the City, under the name Neve Taylor.”
Leander’s fork paused halfway to his mouth, and then he laughed—a genuine, surprised sound that transformed his entire face.
“You’re Neve Taylor? I read your piece on the High Line renovation last month. The analysis of how they balanced preservation with innovation was brilliant.”
Heat crept up her neck, but this time it was pleasure rather than embarrassment. “You read my blog?”
“When I have time. Your perspective on adaptive reuse is refreshing—most developers miss the soul of a building when they’re focused on profit margins.”
The compliment hit deeper than it should have, striking at the part of her that had spent years hiding her passion behind charity galas and social obligations. Here was someone who not only understood her work but valued it.
“I can’t believe you actually read it,” she murmured, then caught herself gushing. “I mean, I’m glad you find it useful.”
“More than useful. Insightful.” His green eyes held hers across the table. “This partnership might work out better than I expected.”
Partnership.The word sent an unexpected thrill through her.
When they finished dinner, Leander surprised her again. “Would you like to take a walk? It’s a nice evening.”
Every rational part of her brain screamed that walking alone with her enigmatic boss was a terrible idea. But she found herself nodding before she could engage her better judgment.
He helped her from her chair with old-fashioned courtesy, his hand briefly touching the small of her back as he guided her toward the exit. The contact sent electricity shooting through her entire nervous system.
Outside, Manhattan pulsed with its usual evening energy—traffic, conversation, and the distant sound of music fromstreet performers. But Camille barely registered any of it. Her attention was completely captured by the man walking beside her, close enough that she caught hints of his cologne—something clean and expensive that made her want to step closer.
This is insane,she thought.You’ve known him for exactly one day.
But knowing him felt less accurate than recognizing him, as though some part of her had been waiting for this particular combination of intelligence, intensity, and carefully controlled power.
“Can I ask you something?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
“Depends on the question.”
“Your social life—how does it usually impact your schedule? I want to make sure I’m not booking over important personal commitments.”
He was quiet for several steps, and she worried she’d overstepped some invisible boundary.
“Not much to worry about there,” he said finally. “This past month I’ve been completely absorbed by the Lexington project. Once I let Denise go, I’ve been working around the clock. So I’m grateful to have you on board.”
“I’m more than willing to help with whatever you need. No task is too small or too big.” The eagerness in her voice made her cringe internally. “I could pick up your dry cleaning, manage your personal appointments, whatever would be useful.”
His laugh was low and warm. “That’s not necessary.”
“It’s no bother. I want to make myself as useful as possible.”
They finally reached the entrance to her parents’ building, the doorman recognizing her with a respectful nod. She expected Leander to say goodnight at the curb, but he followed her into the marble lobby.
“You really don’t need to?—”
“I insist.” His tone brooked no argument, pure alpha assertiveness wrapped in polite courtesy.
The elevator ride felt endless, the confined space amplifying every detail—his height, the breadth of his shoulders, and the way he watched the floor numbers with focused attention. When they reached the penthouse level, he walked her to the ornate door bearing her family’s name.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said, fumbling for her keys. “And for the opportunity. I know my background isn’t traditional.”
Leander lingered, his green eyes intense in the hallway’s soft lighting. For a moment, she thought he might say something more, might acknowledge the current of attraction that had hummed between them all evening.
