*Isabella's POV*
I walked over, the rubber ends of my crutches making annoying squeaks on the hardwood floor. My mind was racing. Who the fuck could it be? We weren't expecting anyone else.
I pulled the door open, and my breath fucking caught in my throat.
There he was. Damien. Looking like he'd just stepped out of a goddamn magazine in a perfectly tailored dark suit, his expression unreadable as always. In his hand, he held a bouquet of white roses, so pure and perfect they looked completely out of place.
"Hey," he said, his voice that familiar low rumble that vibrated right through me, setting me on edge.
"Hey," I managed, my own voice sounding small and fucking nervous. I clutched the doorframe for support, my knuckles white.
He held out the bouquet. "Happy birthday," he said, his gaze intense, pinning me in place.
I took them, my fingers brushing against his. A jolt of fucking electricity, shot up my arm. "Thank you," I whispered, my throat suddenly dry. "Come on in."
I turned and led the way, my crutches feeling clumsy and loud. We headed towards the kitchen, a neutral zone, but it felt anything but neutral with him trailing behind me, his presence heavy.
"Sorry for showing up like this," he began, his voice close behind me. "I had to see you. How are you feeling?" he asked, a nervous edge to his tone that I rarely heard.
"Better every day," I said, trying to sound casual, leaning against the counter to steady myself. "I think they're taking off this fucking cast in a few days."
"That's awesome," he said, a genuine smile briefly touching his lips. "Do you need anything? Can I help with anything?"
"No, Elly drives me to my doctor's appointments. I'm fine," I said, the words a flimsy shield I was desperately trying to hold up.
But as soon as the words left my mouth, he moved. One arm snaked around my waist, and he pulled me flush against him, the suddenness movement stealing my breath. My body melted against his hard chest, the scent of his clean, expensive cologne flooding my senses, making my head spin. My mind screamed at me to push body away, to remember why this was a bad idea, but my limbs wouldn't obey.
"Damien..." I began nervously, my voice barely a whisper against the fabric of his shirt. My hands were pressed against his chest, and I could feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.
"I have to," he said, his voice a low, desperate rumble. "Just for a moment." He wrapped both his arms around my waist, pulling me into a tight hug that was so much more than a hug. It was an anchor in the storm of my own confusion. I couldn't help it. I melted, my body going relaxed against his, my head resting in the crook of his neck. For a second, I let myself forget everything.
"You smell wonderful," he said, his breath warm against my hair.
"You smell nice as well," I whispered back, my voice muffled by his coat.
"I heard that," he chuckled, a low, vibrating sound that I felt more than heard. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me, creating a small, intimate world for just the two of us.
"Damien, about me returning to work..." I began, trying to steer the conversation back to safer, more professional territory.
"You don't want to," he said, his voice flat.
"I don't feel comfortable," I tried explaining, my words rushing out. "The whole Cole thing... and the Phoenix ordeal..." But he cut me off again.
"I know," he said simply.
"But the contract... I signed a contract." I said, my voice rising with a familiar panic.
"Screw the contract," he said, a dismissive edge to his tone. "Did you read it?" he asked.
"Of course I did," I shot back defensively, my pride stung.
"And what did it say?" he pressed.
"That I can be sued if I leave the company before the end of the following year," I said, quoting the clause from memory.
"Key word: can," he said with a fucking wink that made my stomach flip. "Nobody is going to sue you, Isabella. You can leave the company whenever you want."
"I... I can?" I asked, my voice laced with surprise. All that worry, for nothing?
"Of course you can," he said, his expression softening.
"I'll come hand in my resignation in a few days," I said, a sense of relief washing over me so strong it made my knees feel weak. "I need to do something first."
"Where will you go after Lancaster Corp?" he asked, his voice quiet, genuinely curious.
"I'll try my luck at one of the auditor firms in Raleigh," I said, a new, fragile plan forming in my mind. "I'll be an accountant."
"Then a CFO," he added, with such absolute certainty it took my breath away.
"Yeah, right," I said, with a self-deprecating laugh.
"You will," he said, moving closer, his gaze intense, burning into me. "You are smart, hardworking, and amazing." He paused, his voice dropping to a low, intimate growl.
"And you turn me on when you talk about numbers." He forced my gaze to meet his, and in his eyes, I saw a fire so hot it could consume us both.
"Damien..." I said softly, my heart hammering against my ribs, a frantic, desperate rhythm.
"I'll see myself out before I do something I'll regret," he said, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He took a deliberate step back, breaking the moment, and I just nodded, unable to form a single coherent word.
I watched him walk away, my body still humming with the electricity of his touch, my mind a complete and utter fucking mess.
"Guys, guys, it's almost fucking midnight!" Elly's voice cut through the party chatter, a high-pitched, excited squeal that made everyone turn towards the large screen TV showing the ball drop.
"Ten, nine, eight..." everyone began counting down. The energy in the room was electric, a fizzy, bubbly feeling that I couldn't quite share.
"Three, two..." As they got to one, a strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against a hard, familiar chest. Before I could even process, his lips were on mine. It wasn't a gentle, celebratory peck. It was a kiss that claimed, that possessed, that dominated. It was Damien's kiss.
"Happy New Year!" Elly shouted, but her voice was a distant, muffled sound, like I was underwater. I melted into his embrace, my body betraying my mind's desperate protests. I let him kiss me... dominate me... remind me of what I had fucking lost. The taste of him, the feel of his hand on my back, the sheer, unapologetic possession in his touch – it was a perfect, painful reminder of everything I'd walked away from.