CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR

CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR
His other hand came up to frame her face, and Alexandra's eyes fluttered closed at the touch. This was dangerous. So dangerous. She was vulnerable right now, not thinking clearly.

But God, she'd missed this. Missed being touched with tenderness. Missed feeling like someone actually cared.

"We should talk about the merger," she said suddenly, desperately trying to ground herself in something careful, something safe. "We need to discuss the joining of the companies. There are contracts to review. Decisions to make."

Damon's lips curved slightly. "Really? You want to talk about business right now?"

"Yes." But even as she said it, her hands came up to rest against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat under her palms—rapid, matching her own. "We should—we need to maintain clean boundaries."

"Is that what you want?" Damon asked, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.

"Yes," Alexandra whispered, but she didn't pull away. Didn't drop her hands. Didn't step back.

"You're a terrible liar, Sasha." The name came out like a caress.

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? It's who you are."

"No." Alexandra shook her head slightly, her eyes still closed. "Alexandra is who I am now. Sasha died five years ago when you—"

"She didn't die," Damon interrupted gently. "She's right here. I can feel her. See her. She's in every stubborn argument, every defensive wall you put up. Every time you look at me like you're fighting yourself."

Alexandra's eyes opened then, meeting his. "You don't know anything about who I am now."

"Then let me learn." Damon's voice was earnest, intense. "Let me know this version of you. Let me—"

He didn't finish the sentence but leaned in, and Alexandra tilted her face up, and the space between them disappeared.

Their lips met, and the world stopped.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like they were both afraid the other might pull away. But then Alexandra made a small sound in the back of her throat. Damon's control snapped.

His hands slid from her face into her hair, angling her head for better access. Alexandra's fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer even as part of her screamed that this was a mistake.

The kiss deepened, becoming hungrier, desperate. Five years of longing, of regret, of suppressed emotion poured into it.

Damon walked her backward until her back hit the wall. The pictures hanging there rattled slightly, but neither of them noticed. Alexandra gasped against his mouth, and Damon took advantage, his tongue sweeping in to taste her.

She tasted like grief. Hope and home.

Her hands slid up into his hair, tugging slightly, and Damon groaned against her lips. His hands moved down to her waist, pulling her flush against him.

This was insane. They both knew it. But neither could stop.

Alexandra pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her chest heaving. "We shouldn't—"

"I know," Damon said, but he was already kissing along her jaw, down her neck, making her head fall back against the wall.

"This doesn't change anything," Alexandra gasped, even as her body arched into him.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," Damon murmured against her skin.

He found her sensitive spot just below her ear, and Alexandra made a sound she'd never made with anyone else. Her hands tightened in his hair, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

"Damon—" His name came out as half plea, half prayer.

He pulled back just enough to look at her. His eyes were dark, intense, burning with desire and something deeper. "Say it again."

"What?"

"My name. Say my name again."

"I—" Alexandra's chest tightened. "This is crazy. We're supposed to be business partners. We're supposed to—"

"Say it," Damon demanded, his voice rough.

"Damon." The name came out as a whisper.

He kissed her again, slower this time but no less intense. Alexandra felt herself melting into it, into him, felt all her carefully constructed defenses crumbling.

This was what she'd been fighting. This pull. This connection that had never truly broken.

And God help her, she didn't want to fight it anymore.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Damon rested his forehead against hers. "Tell me you feel it too. Tell me I'm not crazy."

"You're crazy," Alexandra whispered.

"Then we're both crazy." Damon's hands cupped her face again, his thumbs stroking her cheeks gently. "Because I'm not walking away this time. I don't care how hard you push. I'm staying."

"I could fire you as a business partner," Alexandra said, but there was a slight tremor in her voice that betrayed how affected she was.

"You could." Damon smiled slightly. "But you won't. Because, despite everything, you still need me for the company merger. And maybe—" His voice softened. "Maybe you need me for other things too."

"Your ego is showing," Alexandra tried to sound stern, but her fingers were tracing the collar of his shirt almost unconsciously.

"Is it ego if it's true?"

Before Alexandra could respond, her phone rang from where she'd left it on the coffee table. The shrill sound cut through the moment like a knife.

They both froze.

Reality came crashing back. James. The missing persons investigation. The fact that they were standing here kissing while her son was God-knows-where.

Guilt washed over Alexandra's face. She pushed away from Damon and hurried to grab her phone.

An unknown number.

Her hands trembled as she answered. "Hello?"

"Ms. Sterling?" An unfamiliar voice, male.

"Yes, who is this?"

"This is Detective Morrison with the Arrow Brooke Police Department. We've been reviewing your son's case. I need you to come down to the station. There's been a development."

Alexandra's face went white. Her knees actually buckled slightly, and Damon was there immediately, his hand on her elbow steadying her.

"What kind of development?" Her voice shook. "Did you find him? Is he—is he okay?"

"I'd rather discuss this in person, ma'am. Can you come to the station within the hour?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll be right there."

She hung up, and her eyes met Damon's. All the heat from moments before had been replaced by fear.

"They found something," she whispered. "They want me at the station."

"I'll drive you," Damon said immediately.

"No, I—"

"I'm driving you," Damon repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're shaking. You're in no condition to drive."

Alexandra wanted to argue, wanted to maintain her independence, but she was shaking. And the thought of facing whatever news the police had alone terrified her.

"Okay," she whispered.

They gathered their things quickly. Thomas had finished his call and was back inside.

When they told him about the detective's call, his face went pale too.

"I'm coming with you," Thomas said.

"So am I," Adrian added, having come back into the room when he heard the commotion.

And so they all piled into Damon's car—Alexandra in the passenger seat, Thomas and Adrian in the back. The drive to the police station was tense, silent except for the sound of Alexandra's ragged breathing.

Damon reached over without thinking and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. Alexandra looked at their joined hands, then at him. She should pull away, maintain distance.

But she didn't. She held on tight, and Damon squeezed back.

Whatever happens, his grip seemed to say, I'm here.