I spend the rest of the day finalizing my proposal for Warren Werner. There are financial reports to gather and contracts to look over. Then, after a late meeting with Nathan Murphy, I head over to Genevieve’s hotel.

My stomach knots when she doesn’t answer my knock, and I wonder jealously where she’s at and who she’s with. What if she’s already checked out? What if she’s headed back to London right now while I rap insistently on her door?

This room is the only connection I have to her, though, so I sit my ass down on the floor and wait.

It’s nearly three hours later when I spot her coming down the hall with her father and Celia. She sees me instantly, and for a half a second, she appears to light up.

Just as quickly, her smile fades.

She leaves the others at a door a couple of rooms down and heads down to her own. Down to where I’m waiting.

“What are you doing here?” she asks when she’s only an arm’s length away, her tone even and unreadable.

God, I wish I had the courage to pull her into me. Wish I had the strength to never let her go again. “We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Yes, there is.” I’m conscious of her father standing within earshot as he works the key to his room, but his presence doesn’t stop me from saying what I need to say. “Like, I’m sorry.”

She takes a breath in, but her gaze remains steady and aloof. “You said that already. I told you it didn’t matter.”

“That’s a lie, and we both know it.”

“Do you need me, princess?” Edward’s still in the doorway to his room, Celia having disappeared inside.

For one bleak moment, I fear she’ll say yes. That he’ll have security called, and I’ll be fighting two guards as they attempt to escort me out of the building.

Because I will fight. I’ll fight tooth and nail.

But eventually she says, “No, Daddy. I can handle myself. Goodnight.”

I’m relieved but still daunted. This is only the first step. There’s two feet between where she stands and where I stand, and yet it feels like a giant chasm that I’ll never be able to cross. The smell of her drifts across the distance. It’s punishing how much it makes me miss her. Need her. And I know in this moment that the way I feel about her is different than how I’ve felt about anyone else before because, though I want her, I want her to be happy more.

So even though I’m desperate to beg for her love, I hold back. “Look, if you’d rather ignore everything personal between us, then I understand. I’m not here for that anyway.”

“Then why are you here?” She flinches as she recognizes the words I said to her when I attacked her at Mabel Shores. “Guess it’s my turn to ask.”

I came to tell you I love you.

Except I didn’t. This isn’t about me—it’s about her. What she wants. What she needs. “I came to talk to you about business.”

She rolls her eyes and turns to her door, pulling out her keycard. “The Accelecom/Werner Media merger is dead in the water.”

“I know. I have another idea. A better idea.” I have her attention. She hesitates, tapping her key against the metal frame instead of sliding it in the card reader. “Give me fifteen minutes.” I’ll take five if that’s all she’ll give. I’ll take one and it will be the best minute of my life. “Please.”

A few more taps, and she closes her palm around the card. “I’m not letting you in.” She’s referring to her room, but I can’t help but think she’s referring to more.

It makes my chest twist and ache. I knew a second chance with her was unlikely, but it hurts to be faced with the truth.

Still, it doesn’t change that I love her, and even if I never say it, I want to give her this one thing. “We can go anywhere you want. You name the place.”

Slowly, she turns back to face me. She bites her lip as she deliberates. After what seems like an eternity, she nods toward the room at the end of the hall. “This way. The Executive Lounge should be quiet at this time of day.”

As she’s predicted, the lounge is practically empty. A couple talks quietly in the corner. In the center of the room, a man in a suit works on his laptop, his headphones leaking strains of something heavy and metal.

She chooses a seat near the doors. “In case I need to escape,” she says, and I’m glad she’s able to joke until I look at her expression and realize she’s not joking at all.

“You’re perfectly safe. I promise.” I won’t touch her because that’s not what she wants, but even as I pull out my reports from my briefcase, I remember the touch of her skin against mine. Can you blame me for brushing my hand against hers as I pass her a copy?

She shivers at the contact. Then she pulls her phone from her purse and swipes at the screen. “I’m setting an alarm. You’ve got fifteen. Better get started.”

Twenty minutes later I’ve laid out the entire plan and still haven’t been kicked to the curb. When her alarm went off, she stopped it without any excuses or commentary and slid her phone back in her purse, letting me finish. Now that I’m done, she sits back in her chair and puts the report that she’s now studied scrupulously on the table between us.

“It’s a good proposal,” she says, unceremoniously. “If Warren doesn’t go for it, he’s a fool.”

But does it make you happy? “It’s not the scenario you’d hoped for.”

“The scenario I’d hoped for was unrealistic, and to be honest, my father doesn’t have the vision that Nathan Murphy has, according to what you’ve told me. This is a much better move.” She studies her finger as she traces the edge of the papers in front of her. “It’s my best shot at being involved with Werner Media, and I’m grateful.”

I let out a breath, slowly, relieved that she’s on board, but not wanting to let on how relieved. “It’s the least I can do,” I start to say.

But at the same time, she says, “Why are you doing this?” Her brow is wrinkled, and her eyes scald me with their burning curiosity.

The heat behind her gaze is too hot, and I have to look away. “Lots of reasons, actually. It’s the best move for Werner Media.” I busy myself with putting my reports back in my briefcase. “It’s the best move for Accelecom, in my opinion. It’s a good move for Pierce Industries, an even better move for me. It’s about time I take more of an active interest in the business.”

“It is a very strategic move for your career.”

“I think so.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Why else are you doing this? Why are you doing this for me?” From the look on her face, I can tell I’m going to have to give her a lot more than this. I’m going to have to be a lot more vulnerable.

It’s hard, but I force myself to meet her gaze. “Because no matter what I think I am or what I want to be, I’m still a nice guy at heart. And I haven’t been very nice to you. I want to apologize for that, and this is the best way I know to do that.”

Her features relax ever so slightly. “Then you don’t think I’m a spy anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“What made you change your mind? Did you realize your brother really did give those financial reports to my father?” There’s no malice in her questions. She simply wants to know.

I shake my head. “I didn’t even ask. I decided I didn’t need to. I decided I trusted you.” She chuckles to herself, which was definitely not the reaction I was hoping for. “What’s so funny?”

She shrugs, sobering. “I guess, nothing. Just. I didn’t even defend myself. I ran. I’m exactly like my mother. How on earth can you trust someone who runs?”

There’s an ache in her voice, and I want nothing but to erase it. Want to take the blame. I lean forward, reaching for her hand before I remember myself and rest mine between us. “Why wouldn’t you run? I bullied you.”

“You only asked me a question.”

“I asked it in front of everyone.” I cringe as I remember how shitty I was when I interrogated her. “It wasn’t fair. And I was aggressive. I didn’t provide a safe space to talk it through.”

She lays her hands on the table. “I was afraid I’d answer, and you still wouldn’t believe me.”

“Then you didn’t trust me either.” Like her, I’m not being spiteful—I’m working it out.

“I wanted to. But everything was moving so fast. It felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. When you said what you did, I thought, well, that’s about right.”

“Maybe I felt a bit like that too.” Or more than a bit. Wasn’t that why I refused to acknowledge I was falling for her? Wasn’t that why I was so eager to latch onto Hudson’s accusations? It feels so good to admit it. It feels so good to admit all of it.

“I’m sorry I ran,” she says.

“I’m sorry I accused.”

“I didn’t spy on you for my stepmother.”

“I shouldn’t have let you leave.” I should never let her leave again.

Her hand is so close, and when I stretch my fingers out to brush against hers, she brushes back. Warmth shoots up my arm, spreading through me like lightning. Though I’m trying to stay focused on her needs, I’d hoped—of course, I’d hoped—that part of what she needed was me. Touching her like this, the yearning grows. I want her so fucking much. And she feels so within my grasp.

Then she says the words that kill everything. “Chandler, even if this plan of yours works out, I’m still headed back to the UK. It’s hard enough to have a relationship when we work like we do. Long-distance would be near impossible.”

I close my eyes for the briefest second. “I know.” I’m not keen on long-distance either. There is a way that she doesn’t have to leave, but if she doesn’t see it, then I have to think she doesn’t want to. I test the ground one more time, to be sure. “At least you’ll have what you really want—the job.”

“Right. The job.” She pulls her hand back, and that answers everything. She might have developed feelings for me, but the most important thing to her is still her career. It’s what I should have expected.

Then why does it hurt so goddamn bad?

She clears her throat. “Thank you. This means a lot that you would do this. You can expect my help in any way you need.”

For that, I’m glad. Not only because I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but also because I need her brain and her smart ideas. “Don’t thank me yet. We have a lot to iron out, and we still have to win over Warren.”

“You’ll win Warren. I guarantee it. You sell him the way you sold me, and it’s a hole-in-one.”

I’m breaking inside, holding on to any scrap she’ll give me like a starving dog. “You really think so?”

“I know so. You’re really turning into the guy I’ve only seen in private. You should be proud.” My cock stiffens at the reference to our sexual exploration. A vision of her naked and bent across the table flashes in my mind. It’s possible she’d still be up for more of that, isn’t it? She may be leaving, but we could spend the time before that having fun.

Except, holy shit—I’m not interested. I mean, I’m interested, but the idea of being with her now when I know it isn’t going to last…

Well, that just sounds like torture.

Remembering Genny’s earlier words about not letting me in, I think she’s probably on the same page.

“We still have two days until the meeting.” I stand, fiddling nervously with the handle of my briefcase. “Should I get your number so we can talk tomorrow?” It’s funny, after everything we’ve been through, I’ve still never gotten this from her.

But she surprises me with her response. “Already done.”

I glance toward the table, wondering if she’s written something down for me when I wasn’t paying attention. There’s nothing. “What do you mean?”

With a mischievous smile, she gestures to my pocket. “Look at your phone.”

I set my case down and pull out my cell. I flip through the contact screens looking first under Fasbender and finding nothing. Then I look under G, and there it is—Genny—followed by her complete number including country code.

I’m confused for a beat. When—?

Then I know. “You programmed this in that night in your hotel room.” The night she’d said I’d left it in the bathroom.

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice,” she says somewhat shyly.

“Obviously, I’m an idiot.” I was an idiot the whole time.

“I won’t argue.”

I walk her to her room, and though I long to kiss her good night, I don’t. When I walk away, part of me is proud of myself for showing restraint.

The other part of me thinks I need a kick in the ass, and I can’t help but feel like I’m still the biggest idiot of all time.