Chapter 67
Elena's POV
The silence stretched between us. His palm was warm against my cheek, steady and solid. I could feel his pulse through his fingertips—or maybe that was mine, hammering so loud I thought he must hear it.
This is too close.
The thought hit me like cold water. I should pull back. Put distance between us. But my body wouldn't cooperate.
Instead, my hand moved on its own. My fingers found his other hand where it rested on the gear shift, curling around it gently.
Caleb went rigid. His breath caught—actually stopped for a beat.
I felt it the moment his control wavered. He leaned in slowly, deliberately, like he was giving me time to stop him. His forehead tilted toward mine, close enough that I could count his eyelashes.
My heart was going to explode. Right here. In his car.
His eyes held mine. Closer. Closer—
"Achoo!"
The sneeze tore out of me, loud and graceless. I jerked back, nearly smacking my head on the window.
The spell shattered.
I fumbled for tissues with shaking hands, mortified heat flooding my face. Of all the goddamn times—
Caleb exhaled slowly, sitting back. When he spoke, his voice was rough. "Where's your coat?"
I blinked, thrown by the subject change. "What?"
His eyes dropped to my jacket—thin, clearly not enough for January. His jaw tightened. "Elena. Where is it?"
"I... left it at home." The admission felt small. Stupid.
Before I could process, he was shrugging out of his heavy black overcoat, draping it over my legs like a blanket. His scent wrapped around me.
"You ran out into a blizzard in that?" His voice held an edge I couldn't name.
I pulled the coat tighter, avoiding his eyes. "I didn't really plan it."
Another pause. Then the engine started, and we were moving.
---
The heater blasted at maximum. I watched the city lights blur past, trying to ignore the way my pulse refused to settle.
"Where are we going?" My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
"My place." He kept his eyes on the road. "You need to rest."
His place.
I'd been there before. But this was different.
This was after he'd kissed me. After everything that happened at the resort—
My fingers twisted the seatbelt. The fabric cut into my palms.
Alone. With him. In his home.
Heat crept up my neck. I turned to stare out the window, hyperaware of every breath, every shift of his body in the driver's seat.
"You're doing it again." His voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.
"Doing what?"
"Panicking." He glanced at me, and something flickered in his expression. Almost... amused? "I can hear your heart. It's loud."
"I'm not—" I started, but he kept talking.
"Relax. You're safe." A pause. Then, quieter: "I won't touch you."
The words should have been reassuring. They weren't.
My face burned hotter. "I didn't say you would!"
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Then why are you blushing?"
"I'm not—" Another sneeze cut me off. I grabbed more tissues, wanting to disappear.
Caleb's almost-smile faded. His hands flexed on the wheel. "Elena."
I made the mistake of looking at him.
His eyes held mine for a split second before returning to the road. "Just... breathe. Okay?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
Somewhere deep inside, something purred.
The thought made no sense. But I felt it anyway—a strange, satisfied warmth unfurling in my chest. Like a part of me that had been holding its breath finally let go.
Safe. Protected. Home.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. That was crazy. I was just tired. Emotional. Running on fumes and adrenaline.
Nothing more.
---
The gates to his estate opened silently. Caleb parked near the entrance and came around before I could reach for the door handle. His hand caught my elbow as I stumbled out—my legs had gone wobbly without permission.
"Easy." His grip steadied me.
We made it through the front door. Warmth enveloped us immediately—soft lighting, the lingering scent of wood smoke from the fireplace. Familiar traces of life.
I sneezed again. Twice.
Caleb's expression shifted to something harder. More determined. "Sit. Don't move."
He rolled up his sleeves and pulled out his phone, already dialing. "I need ginger tea, fresh fruit, and an ice pack. Twenty minutes."
I hovered awkwardly in the center of his living room.
The silence felt enormous.
He crossed to me in three strides, gripped my shoulders gently, and guided me to the couch. "Here. Sit."
I sank into the cushions, hands folded in my lap, spine straight. Like I was waiting for something.
Caleb watched me for a moment. Something soft flickered across his face—fond and exasperated at once.
"You look like you're in a principal's office," he muttered, but there was no heat in it.
---
True to his word, someone delivered everything within twenty minutes. Caleb poured tea into a mug, pressed it into my hands.
"Drink. Slowly."
I obeyed. The heat spread through my chest, soothing and sharp with ginger. Steam curled up, warming my face.
Caleb crouched in front of me, ice pack in hand.
I froze. "What are you—"
"Hold still." His free hand landed on my shoulder, firm but careful. Then the ice touched my left cheek.
I flinched. "Caleb—"
"It'll help with the swelling." His voice was quiet. Matter-of-fact. But his eyes... his eyes were doing that thing again. Looking at me like I mattered.
I couldn't breathe.
He was so close. The careful control in every movement. His thumb brushed my collarbone—steadying, not claiming—and my entire nervous system short-circuited.
My face went hot. Then hotter. My pulse hammered in my throat.
"You're doing it again," he said softly.
"What?" It came out strangled.
He leaned in, breath ghosting against my ear. "Blushing. You said you weren't nervous."
I nearly choked on my tea. Coughed. Sputtered. Shoved at his chest. "Can you—would you just—stop!"
Caleb pulled back, laughing. Actually laughing. The sound was low and rough and unfairly attractive.
"Fine. I'll behave." He stood, smoothing his expression into something more neutral. But his eyes still held that dangerous glint.
He set the ice pack on the coffee table. "Get some rest. Guest room's ready—I had them change the sheets."
He turned toward the stairs.
I watched him go, one hand pressed to my burning face.
What is happening to me?