Page 10 of Ruin

Her smile was wistful as she turned to walk away, her movements graceful and hesitant. Yet, as she reached the first hallway, an unmistakable realization crossed her face. She abruptly stopped and turned toward me, her hand moving to her forehead in a gesture of embarrassment.

“I just realized I never…” But her words trailed off, swallowed by the emptiness that greeted her.

I had already vanished into the shadows just out of her sight, leaving her in a state of bewilderment. I watched her from the darkness, hidden by the veil of night and the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the windows. Her reaction was a delicate mix of frustration and curiosity, and it pleased me to know that my absence had left a lingering impression. The allure of mystery only added to the tension, the game more thrilling with every unspoken word and every vanishing act.

When Claire finally turned to continue her walk back to her room, I stayed hidden, a predatory satisfaction curling at the corners of my lips. The night was young, and the seeds of intrigue I had sown would continue to blossom, weaving a tapestry of desire and enigma that would keep her thinking of me long after our paths had diverged.

That heat in your chest? That is mine now.

I lit it. And only I will be the one to put it out.

Chapter Five

Claire

The heat of the espresso warmed the white porcelain cup that I held between my hands. It was eight in the morning, and the sun was streaming through the windows, illuminating the hotel café in a warm, morning glow.

My mind had been racing all morning.

When I entered my hotel room last night, it all felt like a dream. A dark, unnamed stranger was sweeping me off my feet in Italy. I could still feel his thumbs brushing my shoulder, the press of his chest against mine, and his warm breath against my face as he pressed his lips to my forehead. But as quickly as the phantom touches appeared, they dissipated, leaving only the overwhelming feeling of stupidity.

I had flown all this way to handle business. To expand my career opportunities. To prove myself. And instead, I got caught up in the moment and completely lost track of the real goal.

I could have brushed him off. I could have focused. I could have gone to the host desk and refused to leave until Antonio showed his face.

What was I thinking?

I closed my eyes, trying to push away the confusion and frustration. Instead, all I could see was him. That warm smile above a jaw that could cut glass. Those dark, intense eyes seemed to be looking into me. I could still feel the phantom warmth of his presence and smell the faint trace of cedar from his cologne. It was like he had left a lingering imprint on me. I imagined him standing so close, his eyes locking onto mine with that seductive glint.

I quickly caught myself.

He probably does that with every solo woman he encounters. He’s probably some sex-hungry predator. I bet if I was still here tonight, I’d see him stalking his next conquest in the restaurant.

I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, staring at the blank email I had been struggling to write to Brian for the last twenty-five minutes.

How do you say, “Hey, Boss! I butchered the shit out of this opportunity. But it’s kind of not my fault. Ish.”?

Just as my fingers began to type the greeting, a voice cut through the quiet that had been surrounding me since I sat down.

“Well, I should not say I am surprised to see you here. Should I?”

I looked up to see a tall woman standing before me—the scent of her Baccarat Rouge swimming through the air as a breeze from the open windows flowed through the room. Black-framed glasses sat perfectly on her face, her enhanced eyelashes grazing the lenses. She raised a meticulously arched, thick eyebrow at me. She quickly pulled the chair out that sat across from me, whipping her long black hair to the side as she set her oversized Louis Vuitton tote down in the chair to her right.

“Excuse me?” I stammered, sitting straight up in my seat.

“The sticker on your laptop,” she said as she poked the back of my laptop screen with her long French-tip nail.

I stared at her, bewildered. Unable to speak.

She sighed with disappointment. “You are with Eastern Wines, yes? I am Jennifer. Jennifer Mora.”

My bewildered face did not change as she rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue.

“Prestige Wines,” she said dryly, tilting her head to the side and making a face that clearly said this dumb bitch.

My mouth dropped. “Shit,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

Her plump red lips curled into a smile. “Oh. You thought you were the only distributor coming here. Honey!” She laughed as she leaned back in her chair to cross her legs, a pristine black, red-bottomed stiletto heel dangling off her foot.