Chapter 6

Sienna's POV

The dinner was at the Aethelgard Seattle Hotel—Margot's choice, what she called "a small business mixer." When I walked into the second-floor ballroom, I told myself this was just networking.

But when I saw Nathaniel Reid standing by the champagne tower, smiling at me, I knew Margot had other plans.

"Sienna, this is my cousin Nathaniel," Margot said. "Nathaniel, this is the proprietor of Lumina Lodge I mentioned."

His handshake was firm. "I've heard a lot about you."

We talked about the Lake Aurelia development project.

"Lumina's ecological approach is impressive," Nathaniel said. "Your retention rates are excellent. That sustainability model is exactly what the lake district needs."

"Thank you. We've been hoping to participate in the Heart Island project—"

"The environmental assessment will have preliminary results next week. If you're interested, I can get you into next month's project meeting."

"Really? That would be wonderful."

"Though you should know," his tone grew cautious, "there's heavy competition. Aethelgard, Vance Group... it'll be intense."

At "Vance Group," my heart skipped.

"I understand. But independent operators have advantages. We know the local ecology better, focus on long-term value."

"That's what I admire about you," Nathaniel smiled. "Many entrepreneurs compromise under pressure, but you stick to your principles."

We talked easily about operations, conservation, the lake district's future.

"I'd like to visit Lumina next week if that works," he said. "See your operation firsthand."

"Of course. I can arrange—"

As I stood to get a drink, my heel twisted.

Nathaniel caught me, one hand on my arm, the other at my waist.

"Careful!"

Pain shot through my ankle. "Thank you, I—"

Then I felt it. That sensation of being watched.

I looked up. At the entrance stood Ethan, whiskey in hand, eyes locked on Nathaniel's hand at my waist.

His expression turned cold.

"Your ankle's twisted," Nathaniel said. "Let me help you sit."

As he guided me toward the lounge, I felt Ethan's gaze following.

Margot spotted Ethan. "Ethan? I didn't know you were coming."

"Last minute decision," his voice was calm. "Heard there was good networking here."

He approached. His eyes swept from Nathaniel's supporting hand to my face.

"Seems I'm interrupting," he said.

"Ethan, this is—" Margot tried.

"I know who he is," Ethan cut her off. "Nathaniel Reid, Deputy Director. Margot's cousin."

"Mr. Vance," Nathaniel kept his tone polite. "Ms. Whitmore just twisted her ankle—"

"How considerate," Ethan's voice was flat. "Though Sienna's always been self-sufficient."

Anger flared. "Mr. Vance, my schedule doesn't require—"

"Your ankle needs treatment," he interrupted. "There's a lounge on the fourth floor."

"Not necessary. Nathaniel will—"

"Mr. Reid has more important matters," Ethan turned to Nathaniel. "The Development Authority has a project review at nine tomorrow morning."

Nathaniel froze.

Margot stood. "Ethan—"

"I'm just concerned about Sienna's injury," his voice softened. "After all, she's my business partner."

He emphasized "business partner" strangely.

Margot looked between us.

"Sienna?" she asked carefully.

I finally nodded. "Fine." I turned to Nathaniel. "I'm sorry. Let's talk another time."

Nathaniel hesitated, then released me. "Take care. Call if you need anything."

I limped toward the exit, refusing Ethan's help.

Behind us, Margot's voice: "Ethan, what are you doing?"

"Later, Margot," he said.

We entered the elevator. He pressed four. The doors closed.

I leaned against the wall. He stood close.

"You like him?" he asked.

"What?"

"Reid. You like him?"

"That's none of your business."

"Isn't it?" He laughed. "Then why use him to provoke me?"

"You think the world revolves around you? Nathaniel and I were discussing business!"

"Business?" He stepped closer. "Is that why he had his arm around your waist?"

"I twisted my ankle! He was helping!"

"He could've held your arm."

The elevator opened. I rushed out, but pain made me stumble. Ethan caught me.

He led me to a door, swiped his card. Inside was a suite.

"Ethan. You said we were going to treat my ankle—"

"It's quieter here," he said. "Come in. Unless you want Margot to find us in the hallway."

I walked in. He closed the door.

He retrieved a first aid kit. I sat.

He knelt, removed my shoe, applied an ice pack.

"Minor sprain," he said. "Ice it and you'll be fine."

Then he sat beside me. Too close.

"Sienna," he said. "Why use Reid to provoke me?"

"I didn't—"

"You did. You knew I was there."

"What makes you think—"

"Because I know you."

"Know me?" I laughed.

"Then tell me," his voice rose. "Why did you leave? Why say those things?"

The words came before I could stop them. "Because maybe you were right to think it!"

He went still.

"Maybe I did want the easy way out," I said. "Maybe I got tired of waiting for you to figure out your life. Maybe Nathaniel's the smarter choice—he actually has his priorities straight."

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" I met his eyes. "You're marrying Victoria. Why do you care what I do?"

"You think I wanted to hate you?" His voice broke. "Sienna, these two and a half years—"

"Stop," I cut him off. "Just stop."

He kissed me.

I froze. His lips pressed against mine with suppressed longing.

I pushed at his chest, but his hand cradled my head, deepening the kiss.

That familiar temperature, that familiar breath, that familiar caress—drowning me like an incoming tide.

I thought back to many years ago, in that little apartment in San Francisco. On nights when rain fell, he would embrace me from behind, murmuring "I'm here" against my ear. After my late-night overtime, he would come to get me, letting me drift to sleep upon his shoulder. Weekend mornings found us nestled on the sofa, doing absolutely nothing, simply existing in each other's presence.

We were so deeply in love then, so absolutely sure.

Tears suddenly fell, sliding between our entangled lips, carrying a bitter taste.

He felt it, his movements pausing for a moment, then kissing me even more tenderly, as if comforting some wounded little animal.

My hands, without my knowing when, changed from pushing away to clinging, gripping his collar, letting myself drown in this kiss.

Just then, my phone rang.

The ringtone sounded particularly jarring in the quiet room.

We both froze, lips parting.

I was breathing heavily, tears still on my face, fumbling frantically to pull my phone from my bag.

It was Margot.

I answered almost with relief, my voice still trembling: "Hello?"

"Sienna, where are you?" Margot's voice carried concern. "You're on the fourth floor? Which room?"

I glanced at Ethan, who was looking at me, his eyes holding some emotion I couldn't quite read.

"4025," I finally said.

"I'm coming over now." Margot hung up immediately after saying this.

I put down my phone, not daring to look at Ethan.

"She's coming," I said in a low voice.

"I know," he didn't move, just looked at me. "You're still so afraid of being alone with me."

I didn't argue.We pulled apart.

"She's coming," I whispered.

"I know." He didn't move. "You're still afraid to be alone with me."

Knocking came.

"Sienna!" Margot's voice. "Are you in there?"

Ethan stood, picked up the room phone, spoke quietly, hung up.

The knocking stopped.

"What did you do?"

"Had concierge call her down. An urgent matter."

"You can't just—"

"Our conversation isn't finished," he stepped closer. "Sienna, we need to talk."

"Talk about what? About you marrying Victoria?"

"About us."

"There is no us anymore."

"Really?" He smiled bitterly. "Then why did you kiss me back?"

My face flushed.

"You can fool others. Not me," he said. "You still love me."

"I don't—"

"You do. Just like I still love you."

Tears fell again.

Then footsteps in the hall. A woman's voice.

"Ethan should be on this floor. He said he had something to handle."

Victoria.

Ethan's face darkened.

The footsteps stopped outside.

The doorbell rang.

"Ethan?" Victoria's voice came through. "Are you in there?"

We stared at each other.

"Don't make a sound," he whispered.

"Ethan?" She rang again. "I know you're there. Concierge said you're in 4025."

A pause.

"Or," her voice turned cold, "is this a bad time?"