Chapter 7 Seven
It had been two long weeks since Dominic left for France.
A trip that was supposed to last only three days had stretched endlessly. Three days turned into two weeks. Two weeks of silence, two weeks of imagining what he was doing, two weeks of her heart quietly twisting with every passing day.
He must be having a wonderful time with that woman, Izzy thought bitterly, leaning against the wall in the quiet morning lobby. He must really be enjoying himself to stay away this long.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Trying not to think about him. Trying not to let the hurt show. Her hand rested lightly on her chest, fingers tapping nervously, betraying the calm she was trying to project.
The elevator doors slid open, and her heart jumped.
Dominic was inside.
Her legs froze. Her mouth went dry.
His eyes found hers instantly. Calm. Piercing. Full of that quiet intensity that always made her pulse quicken.
“Aren’t you getting in, Miss Hart?” he asked, his voice low, measured. There was that subtle edge that made her stomach twist... commanding, yet familiar.
“I… yes, Mr. Steele,” she said, stepping in slowly. She kept her back straight, her voice steady, even though her heart was hammering like crazy.
The elevator doors slid closed, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The soft hum of the elevator was the only sound… until the lights flickered.
And then darkness.
“Stay calm,” Dominic said immediately, his voice steady and low, both commanding and oddly comforting. “It's probably a power outage.”
“I… I’m fine,” Izzy said, her own voice sounding small even to her ears.
“You sure?” he asked, moving just slightly closer. Even in the dark, she could feel his heat, the tension in the space between them.
The elevator jolted, and she stumbled forward. His hand shot out, steadying her. The brush of his fingers against hers sent a jolt through her body... sharp, electric, impossible to ignore.
Her eyes, adjusting to the faint glow of the emergency lights, met his. She could feel the unspoken tension thick in the air, rising between them like static before a storm.
“Izzy…” he whispered, his voice dropping, soft but urgent.
Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to look away, wanted to pretend, but she couldn’t. She was drawn to him... to the danger in his gaze, the closeness of his body, the warmth that pressed subtly against hers.
“I…” she started, but the words died on her lips. She couldn’t say what she felt, not when this close, not now.
He leaned in slightly. Just a little. But it was enough. She could smell his cologne, feel the faint brush of his hand against hers again, feel the steady warmth of his chest so close to her own.
Her heart raced. Her mind spun.
Desire, confusion, something forbidden and thrilling... it all rushed through her at once.
And then… the lights flickered back on.
The hum of electricity filled the elevator, startling them both. The closeness shattered instantly. Dominic stepped back, hands retreating to his sides. His expression returned to professional calm, but she noticed the faint tension at his jaw, the small sign that he, too, had felt it.
“Stay here while I press the button,” he said sharply, voice composed but not quite the same.
Izzy swallowed hard. Her cheeks burned, her heart still hammering. She wanted to shout, to demand an explanation, to reach out to him again... but she forced herself to stay quiet, to act calm, to act professional.
The elevator continued upward, humming steadily. Neither spoke. The silence was heavy, filled with the words they weren’t saying, with all the tension that now existed between them.
When the doors finally opened, Dominic stepped out first. Without a word, he pressed the button for the hallway. Izzy followed, careful to keep the distance that professionalism demanded, though her mind raced wildly.
She wondered if he had felt it, too... that electric pull, that urge for a kiss, the way the moment had shifted everything in an instant.
Izzy barely had time to catch her breath after the elevator incident.
The memory of Dominic’s closeness, the near kiss, and the heat in his gaze left her heart pounding long after she had returned to her desk.
She was trying to focus on her work when the slide door buzzed again, signaling a visitor. A moment later, a tall, elegant woman stepped out and walked confidently toward Dominic’s office.
Red heels. Glossy hair. Perfect red lipstick.
Izzy froze.
It was the same woman she had seen before.. the one from the rumors. The one who had kissed Dominic in his office.
Her chest tightened, a mix of anger, jealousy, and helplessness twisting inside her. She couldn’t look away, yet she wanted to.
Dominic spoke to her briefly at the door, gesturing for her to come, they disappeared inside his office. The door closed behind her.
Izzy’s hands clenched around her pen. She had no right to feel this way, she reminded herself. He was her boss. He could see anyone he wanted.
But that didn’t stop the sharp sting of jealousy.
She tried to focus on her computer, typing slowly, but her thoughts kept drifting. She imagined them laughing together, her fingers brushing his as he handed her the folder… and then, the kiss.
Her stomach turned. She forced herself to breathe deeply. It’s not real. None of it’s real. He’s just your boss. Calm down, Izzy.
Minutes passed. She tried to lose herself in work, but her eyes kept flicking toward the closed office door. She could feel the tension vibrating through the air, like electricity between two magnets.
Suddenly, the door opened, and Dominic stepped out, holding a file. His expression was calm, professional, but his eyes flicked toward her briefly.
That look... sharp, measuring, unreadable... made her chest clench.
“Miss Hart,” he said, voice smooth and authoritative. “I need you to book me a table for lunch at Seafood Paella for two. Please do that now.”
“Yes, boss,” she said, keeping her voice steady, though her mind was still clouded with jealousy and curiosity.
He didn’t speak again, just turned and walked down the hallway.
Izzy sat frozen for a moment, her mind spinning. The woman had visited again. They had probably been laughing, sharing private jokes, maybe… kissing. And she had been trapped, watching it from a distance, powerless.
She exhaled sharply, setting her hands on the desk. Get a grip, Izzy. This is your job. Nothing else.
But even as she forced herself to focus, a part of her burned.
A small, dangerous part of her that wanted to be the woman in that office.
The one who could make him look at her that way, like he had in the elevator... Like he could almost lose control.
And she hated herself for thinking it.