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“If this falls apart…” He stops there, but he doesn’t need to finish.

If the project fails, the board won’t only question the hotel. They’ll question whether Eric was ready to lead Voss. For the first time, I understand that his confidence doesn’t mean he has nothing to fear. He has as much at stake as I do.

I have Grandma, Chloe, and friends who love me. They know how much the Hartwell means to me, and they’re always there when I need them. But they aren’t the ones responsible for its future. Every final decision belongs to me, and if I fail, I’m the one who has to live with it.

Eric knows what that feels like. He inherited a company his father spent a lifetime building, and now everyone is watching to see whether he deserves to lead it. I’ve treated his refusal to walk away as arrogance, but it comes from the same place as mine. He’s fighting to prove he can protect what his father left him, just as I’m fighting to protect the Hartwell.

I still don’t want his hotel next door, but I no longer see him as a man risking nothing to take something from me.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then his phone vibrates. He checks the screen, and his expression sharpens. I expect him to answer, but he silences the call and looks back at me.

“Take it,” I say.

“I need to ask you something.”

“I’ll wait. I know what an urgent call looks like. Answer it.”

His phone vibrates again. This time, he answers.

“Yes.”

He listens, his gaze moving away from me. “No. Don’t approve anything until I’ve seen the revised figures. I understand they want an answer now. They can wait. Send everything to me.”

He ends the call and slips the phone into his pocket. “I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “What did you want to ask me?”

By the time he looks at me again, the brief glimpse of vulnerability is gone. His usual confidence has returned.

“I’m curious. You’ve delayed my project, staged a neighborhood uprising, and fought me on live television. What comes next? A public wrestling match?”

I smile before I can stop myself.

“If you’re looking for an excuse to get your hands on me,” he adds, “there are easier ways.”

I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s because he’s seen the fear I hide from everyone and trusted me with his own.

I cross the space between us and place my palm against his freshly shaved cheek. The amusement leaves his face as he searches mine. I rise onto my toes and press my mouth to his.

Eric’s surprise lasts less than a second. One arm closes around my waist and pulls me against him. His other hand cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek as he angles his mouth over mine.

There’s none of his usual teasing in the way he kisses me. His lips move slowly at first, then the kiss deepens when my mouth opens beneath his. He tastes faintly of coffee, and the stroke of his tongue makes me forget that we’re standing in a television studio where anyone could walk in.

He walks me backward without breaking the kiss. The moment my shoulders meet the wall, his body presses into mine. He’s hard against my lower stomach, and the feel of him draws a sharp breath from me.

I push my hips toward him. A rough sound leaves his throat, and his mouth moves from mine to my jaw, then down my neck. I slide my fingers into his hair as his teeth graze the skin beneath my ear.

The hand at my waist moves over my hip, catches the hem of my skirt, and pushes it higher. His fingers curl around the inside of my thigh and travel upward. I part my legs, and his hand moves closer to where I want it.

My phone rings from inside my handbag, and we both freeze. Eric’s hand remains beneath my skirt while our breathing fills the small room. On the third ring, his fingers slide slowly down my thigh before he pulls them away and steps back.

I smooth my skirt, cross the room, and take the phone from my bag. The Hartwell’s number fills the screen.

I swipe the screen. “Hello?”

“Rachel, it’s Anna. The fire alarm is going off on the sixth floor.”

The last of the fog clears from my head. “What happened?”