Page 27 of Hitched to My Enemy
"Because of what's happening between us that has nothing to do with paperwork or alcohol." His hand found mine atop the sheets, warm and solid. "This isn't just physical for me, Harlow."
The confession hung in the air between us, both terrifying and exhilarating. I opened my mouth to respond when his phone rang from the nightstand.
He checked the screen, frowning. "Torres." He answered with a clipped, "Hardwick."
I watched his expression shift from mild annoyance to sharp focus as he listened. "When?" A pause. "Lock it down. No one enters until we get there." Another pause. "Thirty minutes."
He ended the call, already rising. "Someone accessed the main server room at 5 AM. Disabled security cameras for eight minutes before the backup system engaged."
Professional urgency instantly overtook our personal moment. "Did they get anything?"
"Unknown. But they knew exactly how to navigate our secondary security protocols." He moved toward his closet with purpose. "They're getting bolder."
I slipped from the bed, gathering my clothing from where it had been discarded the previous night. "Or more desperate."
We dressed with efficient speed, the intimate conversation temporarily shelved in favor of crisis management. Yet as we moved around each other in the morning routine—him passing me a spare toothbrush, me borrowing his comb, both of us navigating the space as if we'd done it for years—I was struck by how natural it felt. How right, despite every rational reason it shouldn't be.
"We should keep this private," I said as we prepared to leave. "At least until after the licensing approval."
He nodded, understanding immediately. "Agreed. The fewer complications right now, the better."
Yet as he helped me straighten my collar, his fingers lingering against my neck, I knew we'd already crossed too many lines to find our way back to simple professionalism. Whatever was growing between us had taken root too deeply to simply uproot when convenient.
***
By mid-afternoon, I'd returned to my condo for a change of clothes and a moment to gather my thoughts. The server breach had yielded few clues—the intruder had been careful, but their intimate knowledge of Jade Petal security systems further confirmed our suspicion of an inside job.
Before leaving Easton's penthouse, I'd done something impulsive. I'd asked him for my wedding ring.
"Why?" he'd asked, brows lifting in surprise.
I hadn't been entirely sure myself. "Evidence," I'd claimed. "Just in case."
He'd retrieved it from the kitchen drawer where he'd stashed both rings that first morning, studying it for a moment before placing it in my palm. The cheap metal had left a greenish mark on his finger. "Just in case," he'd echoed, his expression unreadable.
Now the tarnishing chapel-provided band sat in my dresser drawer, nestled among my winter scarves. I told myself it was merely a precaution—potential evidence for whatever legal proceedings lay ahead. Even as I thought it, I recognized how ridiculous the excuse sounded. What legal proceeding would require a cheap ring that was already turning my finger green? But acknowledging the real reason I wanted it felt too dangerous to contemplate.
I was reviewing security logs on my tablet when insistent knocking startled me. Three sharp raps, a pause, then two more—Giselle's signature pattern since childhood.
"Coming!" I called, hastily shoving the tablet under a cushion as if hiding contraband.
I opened the door to find my sister looking fresh in an artist's smock over distressed jeans, paint spattering her hands.Her hair twisted into a messy bun with a paintbrush stuck through it—classic Giselle, creating beauty while embodying beautiful chaos.
"Two days, Harlow," she announced, striding past me. "Two days of unanswered texts since you went to that gala. I was starting to think you'd been abducted by aliens." She turned, studying me with narrowed eyes. "Or that your casino mogul had whisked you away somewhere."
"I've been busy with the investigation," I said, closing the door. "Things are... complicated."
"Complicated?" She raised an eyebrow. "Last time we spoke, you were just attending his gala. What happened after that? Are you in trouble? Is the casino in violation? Details, please."
I moved toward the kitchen, desperate for coffee and distance. "There's been a security breach at the Jade Petal. Possible corporate sabotage. I've been working around the clock."
"Around the clock," she echoed, following me. "At the casino? Or somewhere else?"
My hand jerked, nearly spilling coffee grounds across the counter. Her intuition had always been unnervingly accurate.
"Oh my God," she gasped, reading my expression. "You slept with him, didn't you? You actually slept with the casino guy. The one who shut you down. The one you were just 'professionally investigating' two days ago."
"Giselle!"
