Chapter 329
Madison
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“Is it?” His voice dropped lower, taking on that dangerous edge that used to make me weak in the knees. Still did, if I was being honest with myself.
“Yes. Professional boundaries, remember? Your idea.”
“Actually, it was your idea to end our arrangement.”
“Because you were seeing Katherine behind my back!”
“I wasn’t seeing her. We had business meetings.”
I snorted. “Business meetings don’t require dinner at Le Bernardin.”
“Sometimes they do.” The car stopped at a red light, and Alexander turned to look at me fully. “You look beautiful in that dress.”
The abrupt change of subject caught me off guard. “I thank you.”
“The diamonds suit you.‘
My hand went to the necklace instinctively. “They’re not mine.”
“They could be.”
The light turned green, and Alexander returned his attention to the road.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just an observation.”
We drove in silence for another minute before I realized we weren’t heading toward my apartment. “Where are we going?”
“Le Bernardin.” His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, hands gripping the wheel with practiced ease.
I blinked in confusion. “But you just said you canceled it.”
“I canceled dinner with Katherine,” he clarified, his tone matter–of–fact. “The reservation is still active.”
My stomach did a little flip. Was he taking me instead? No, that couldn’t be right. We weren’t in an arrangement anymore. This had to be something else.
“Oh,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “Meeting a new model there? Or perhaps interviewing potential candidates for a new arrangement? I can draft a fresh contract if you need one. Just give me a few minutes to pull up the template.”
The words came out sharper than I’d intended, laced with an undercurrent of jealousy I couldn’t quite suppress. Alexander didn’t respond. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but otherwise, his expression remained
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unreadable as he navigated through the late–night Manhattan traffic.
Ever since Katherine had swooped back into town from London, he’d become increasingly distant, almost mute around me. It was maddening. The man who once couldn’t keep his hands off me now barely acknowledged my existence beyond work matters.
I turned to stare out the window, watching the city lights blur past. What was his game? Why drag me into his car only to freeze me out? If he wanted to have dinner with someone else, why not just let me take my cab home?
“You’re awfully quiet over there,” I said, breaking the silence. “Cat got your tongue? Or is it more of a Katherine- shaped cat?”
His lips twitched slightly. Progress.
“Are you always this chatty when you’re uncomfortable?” he asked, finally looking at me as we stopped at another red light.
“Only when my boss kidnaps me and refuses to tell me what’s going on.”
“Kidnapping? That’s a serious accusation, Ms. Harper.” The light turned green, and he accelerated smoothly. “I merely offered you a ride.”
“A ride to a restaurant I didn’t agree to go to.”
“Would you prefer I take you home?”
The question hung between us. Did I want to go home? To my empty bedroom, where I’d spend the night overthinking every interaction I’d witnessed between him and Katherine? Or did I want to see where this strange evening might lead?
“I’m hungry,” I said finally. “And dressed appropriately for Le Bernardin. It would be a shame to waste the opportunity.”
Alexander nodded, “Indeed, it would.”
We lapsed into silence again, but it felt less tense now. I snuck glances at his profile as he drove, the strong line of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows as he concentrated on the road.
“You’re staring,” he said without looking at me.
“I’m observing. There’s a difference.”
“And what are your observations telling you?”
I considered this for a moment. “That you’re up to something, but I haven’t figured out what yet.‘
“You’re smart. I thought you might have figured it out by now.”
I turned to face him fully. “Figured what out, exactly? That you’re enjoying this little game? Making me watch you with Katherine all night only to drag me to dinner afterward?”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
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“I don’t know what you’re doing,” I admitted. “Our arrangement is over. You made that perfectly clear by parading Katherine around all evening.”
His knuckles whitened slightly on the steering wheel. “I didn’t parade her anywhere.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Clearly.”
I crossed my arms, mind racing through possibilities. Was this his way of proposing a new arrangement? Different terms, different expiration date? Or was he simply trying to maintain some control over me even after I’d ended things?
Maybe this was just Alexander being Alexander, unable to let anyone walk away from him. His ego probably couldn’t handle the fact that I’d been the one to end our arrangement.
Or–and this thought made my heart race–was this something else entirely? Something without contracts or expiration dates?
No. That was wishful thinking. Alexander Knight didn’t do relationships. He did arrangements, contracts, terms, and conditions.
“You’ve gone quiet,” he observed, taking a sharp turn.
“Just trying to figure out your angle.”
“Do I need an angle to have dinner with a beautiful woman?”
“You always have an angle, Mr. Knight. Are you bipolar?” I blurted out.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Then explain how you go from barely acknowledging my existence at the gala to… whatever this is.”
“Whatever this is,” he repeated slowly, testing the words. “And what is this?”
“That’s what I’m asking you!”
He shook his head. “For someone so observant, you can be remarkably blind sometimes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Figure it out.”
I threw up my hands in exasperation. “And we’re back to cryptic Alexander Knight. Great.”
His eyes flicked to me briefly before returning to the road. “Did you enjoy watching me with Katherine tonight?”
“About as much as I’d enjoy a root canal without anesthesia.”
“Interesting analogy.”
“I’m full of them.”
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“You’re full of something, alright.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Was that an insult or a come–on? With you, it’s hard to tell.”
“Maybe both.”
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We fell into silence as he navigated the final blocks to the restaurant. The man was infuriating. Hot one minute, cold the next. Talking in circles and expecting me to find meaning in his cryptic comments.
And yet… I couldn’t deny the electricity still crackling between us. The way my body responded to his proximity, his scent, his voice. The arrangement might be over on paper, but my traitorous body hadn’t gotten the memo.
Alexander pulled up to the valet stand at Le Bernardin, the restaurant’s elegant facade glowing with soft lighting. As the valet opened my door, I hesitated, suddenly uncertain.
What was I walking into? Another business discussion? A new proposition? Or something else entirely?
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
