CHAPTER 34

Beatrice's POV 

I was frozen before the office door, my heart still hammering from what just happened outside.

Xander had carried my suitcase.

Xander had turned over to security himself.

And everyone had seen it.

The heaviness of a hundred stares pressed down on me, even now, as I opened the door and entered. The whispering had begun the moment he walked away, but I didn’t linger to hear it. I no longer had the mental energy to entertain their speculation.

I walked to my desk and settled into my chair with a long, deep breath. My hands were still shaking.

Why had he done that?

What was the point of this … this act?

Because that’s what it had to be, isn’t it? A calculated move. A knowing performance with some agenda I wasn’t privy to yet.

Except—his face.

The look on his face when he said, “Get in the front seat.” The way he looked at me in the car. The way his voice softened, ever so slightly, when he spoke about the boutique.

It didn’t seem like a performance.

And that scared me worse than anything.

I looked over at the small suitcase next to my desk. The clothes.

I didn’t want them. I have no plans to keep them.

But I knew better than to say no.”

Xander had never been a man who took no for an answer, and with today’s events, I wasn’t about to tempt fate.

So I did what I had to.

For the next hour I removed each item with care, fussed over the fabrics, and hung them up like they did at the office wardrobe. The dresses, the tailored pants, the silk blouses — each one more luxurious than the next.

I felt like a fraud just touching them.

As if at any instant, someone would come in and demand I give them back because they obviously weren’t meant for someone like me.

But no one did.

And by the time I finished up, the tension in my chest had eased, replaced with weariness.

Maybe, just maybe, it would be a day without further surprises.

I should’ve known better.

The call had come just as I was about to settle in.

“All employees mentioned earlier, please report to the company bus for taxi to the airport,” a voice said over the loudspeakers.

Right.

The business trip.

I took a deep breath, picked up my handbag, and left, heading to the front, where others had started to crowd around the door.

The atmosphere was charged with low-key excitement — this was not just any trip. Cape Town. A big deal, one that had the whole company on edge.

We lined up in a neat, single file toward the bus, and then —

“Beatrice.”

I froze.

Xander’s voice sliced through the air, and seconds later, the entire group froze.

I turned, slowly, my pulse racing as I met his eyes. He stood a few feet away, his phone in one hand, his face unreadable as ever.

“Ride with me,” he said. “As my personal secretary.”

I swallowed hard, conscious of how all eyes were on me now.

The tension was suffocating.

But what choice did I have?

Without saying a word, I nodded, stepped out of the line and walked up to him.

The whispers trailed behind me, but I let them go.

Without saying anything more, Xander turned and started toward his car. His chauffeur had already opened the door and was waiting.

I slid inside.

The door shut behind me.

The car drove away from the company building in silence.

I looked out the window, my thoughts a jumbled mass.

This was too much.

Too strange.

And yet, that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was that I didn’t even hate it.

That I didn’t find this as uncomfortable as I should.

That a little, treacherous part of me enjoyed it.

That was the real problem.

As I was expecting, we got first in ahead of the others.

The company’s private plane was already on the tarmac, sleek and massive, its engines softly humming.

I paused for maybe a heartbeat before exiting the car. A gust of brisk air grazed my skin as I stared at its impressive size, my heart beating even faster.

I’d never flown on a private jet before.

For heaven’s sake, I had never so much as been close to one.

And yet, here I was.

Xander proceeded onward, and I stepped close behind, eyeing straight ahead despite all of my limbs trembling dimly under me.

We got on the ferry, its interior as lavish as I had imagined — gleaming floors, beige leather seats, ambient light suggesting elegance.

But something else drew my attention.

One part of the plane looked different.

Secluded.

But this is a place for only two people.

I barely had time to process this before Xander’s hand lightly pressed against my lower back, urging me on.

“Sit,” he said, indicating one of the seats.

I hesitated. “But—”

“As my personal secretary,” he continued smoothly. Then, a short pause, “And as my mate.”

My breath hitched.

I fell into the seat, my head reeling.

I didn’t understand this.

Didn’t understand him.

Didn’t get why, all of a sudden, after all this time, he was so openly claiming me.

It wasn’t like him.

And it was dangerous.

Then, before I had a chance to overthink, I felt him lean in.

My heart sank as his hands moved to my seatbelt, as he pulled it across my lap, as he clicked it into place with a decisive snap.

My entire body locked up.

Just a ghost of a touch — his fingers brushing along the curve of my waist, featherlight, nearly nonexistent — and yet it sent a shiver ripping down my spine, unraveling something deep inside me.

It wasn’t even a real touch. Not something anyone else would have caught. But I felt it. Just as a spark ignites dry wood, slowly at first before enveloping everything it touches.

He did not turn away immediately.

Didn’t pull back as though it was an accident.

Hadn’t cleared his throat or shifted uncomfortably like most men would if it’d gotten too close.

He just… stayed.

His fingers rested there for a moment, unmoving, but I could feel the heat of his skin even through all the fabric that lay between us.

I should have stepped away. Should have built distance before the flames licking under my skin combusted into a blaze. But what I did instead was freeze, paralyzed, my breath caught somewhere in my throat.

Like this was normal.

Like it didn’t mean anything.

Like I wasn’t falling apart over a touch so light it might not have even happened.

I swallowed hard to make myself turn my head, to look at him — because some foolish, reckless part of me had to know if I was the only one who felt this.

But he was already staring at me.

His face was a blank, as if he had been chiselled from the rock. But his eyes…

God, his eyes.

There was something raw in them, something dark and searching, like he was trying to put together a puzzle he didn’t fully understand.

Like he was trying to read me.

Just as much as he was trying to figure me out.

I should have looked away.

Ought to have snapped before becoming something lethal.

But I didn’t.

And neither did he.

Everything else around us dissolved — the noise and movement, the tide of people passing, the distant hum of conversation. It all paled in comparison that moment.

It was just us.

Trapped in something neither of us knew how to articulate.

When I finally forced myself to look away, and forced myself to pay attention to the other employees shuffling to board, I couldn’t not feel how my skin burned still where he had touched me.

And I couldn’t help noticing how he was still staring at me, as if he wasn’t quite finished with whatever had just occurred between us.

As in, maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

The plane was an uneventful takeoff, the pilot’s voice sounding through the speakers with standard directions.

I tried to focus.

Warmed to quiet the tempest in my head.

But at some point exhaustion prevailed.

The soft purr of the engine, the still environment around, the heat of the cabin — it lulled me to unconsciousness before I knew it.

I had no idea how long I slept.

But when I blinked my eyes open, my breath seized in my throat.

Xander was staring at me.

Not just looking.

Watching.

The kind of gaze that trailed a slow curl of heat through my chest.

I sat up fast, my body adjusting, breaking the spell.

He didn’t look away.

Didn’t even blink.

Some shift happened between us at that moment.

Not something we were ready to admit to ourselves, though.

But we both felt it.

Shortly thereafter, we landed in Cape Town.

As soon as I departed from the plane, I took a deep breath, and felt the warmth of the South African air on my skin.

But there was only thing that I could think of.

The triplets.

I immediately took out my phone and called Sarah, but I didn't get through.

A couple of rings passed before she answered.

“They’re fine,” she said before I’d even had a chance to ask. “They just came home from school. Everything’s okay.”

I exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”

But just as I was about to say more, I felt it.

A presence.

Strong. Overpowering.

I snapped my head in her direction, heart racing.

Xander stood just behind me.

Watching.

Listening.

A shadowy something flickered in his eyes as he looked at my phone.

And in that moment, I knew.

He was beginning to connect the dots.

And I was not prepared for what would happen when he did.