Chapter 3 Morning After

Morning came too quickly.

Olivia Carter barely slept. When she did, her dreams were restless-elevator walls closing in, the quiet intensity of Alexander Kane's gaze, the warmth of his hand at her waist lingering longer than it should have.

By the time her alarm went off, she was already awake.

She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the floor, forcing her breathing to steady. Last night had been a mistake. Nothing more. An uncomfortable moment caused by stress, exhaustion, and being trapped in a small space.

That was all.

She showered, dressed carefully, and chose a conservative blouse, as if fabric alone could rebuild the boundaries that had blurred.

By eight-thirty, she was at her desk.

The office buzzed with its usual energy-phones ringing, assistants moving briskly, the low murmur of early meetings. Everything looked normal. Too normal.

Olivia powered on her computer and focused on her inbox. Work was safe. Work made sense.

She hadn't looked up when she felt it.

The shift.

The sudden awareness that someone important had stepped onto the floor.

Her shoulders tightened.

Alexander Kane walked out of the elevator, flanked by two executives. He looked exactly as he always did-impeccable suit, calm expression, controlled stride. The man from last night, vulnerable and intense, was nowhere to be seen.

Relief and disappointment hit her at the same time.

She kept her eyes on her screen as he passed her desk. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, pretending to type.

"Good morning," he said evenly, stopping beside her.

Her heart jumped.

"Good morning, Mr. Kane," she replied without looking up.

Professional. Distant. Safe.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

The question was harmless.

The timing was not.

She lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes for the first time that morning. His expression didn't change, but something unreadable flickered there-recognition, maybe. Or restraint.

"Yes," she said calmly. "Thank you."

"Good." He nodded once. "I'll need you in my office at nine."

"Of course."

He walked away as if nothing had happened.

As if he hadn't nearly kissed her in a broken elevator.

Olivia released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Rachel Morgan leaned over the divider between their desks almost immediately.

"Okay," Rachel whispered. "Why do you look like you ran a marathon before eight a.m.?"

"I don't," Olivia said quickly.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "You absolutely do."

Olivia shook her head. "I'm fine. Just tired."

Rachel didn't look convinced, but her phone rang, saving Olivia from further questions.

At nine sharp, Olivia stood outside Alexander's office, tablet in hand. She squared her shoulders and knocked.

"Come in."

His office was bright, all glass and clean lines, the city stretching out behind his desk. He stood near the window, reviewing something on his phone.

"Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

She did.

They discussed the board meeting agenda, the revised report, and the presentation order. His tone was steady, detached, exactly how it should be.

It was almost a relief.

Until he said her name.

"Olivia."

"Yes?"

He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "About last night."

Her stomach tightened.

"That situation," he continued, "was... unusual."

"Yes," she agreed immediately.

"Nothing like that can happen again."

She nodded. "Of course not."

Silence followed.

He studied her for a moment longer than necessary. "You handled yourself professionally."

"So did you."

His jaw tightened slightly, but he didn't comment.

"You may go," he said.

She stood and left without another word.

Back at her desk, Olivia focused harder than ever. She answered emails, scheduled meetings, triple-checked documents. If she kept moving, she didn't have to think.

But thinking was unavoidable.

Every time Alexander passed by, she felt it. Every time he spoke her name in a meeting, something twisted in her chest.

By lunchtime, exhaustion pressed down on her shoulders.

She barely touched her food.

The afternoon dragged on. Meetings blurred together. By the time the office began to quiet again, Olivia's head ached.

She was gathering her things when her phone buzzed.

Alexander Kane: Stay. We need to review something.

Her pulse quickened.

She glanced around. Most of the staff had already left. Rachel was packing up.

"You okay?" Rachel asked.

"Yes," Olivia said. "Just... late work."

Rachel smiled knowingly. "Lucky you."

Olivia didn't feel lucky as she walked back into Alexander's office.

He was standing behind his desk, jacket off now, sleeves rolled up. The sight tightened something low in her stomach.

"Close the door," he said.

She did.

"This isn't about last night," he said immediately. "Before you start worrying."

"I wasn't," she replied, though the lie tasted thin.

He handed her a folder. "The board approved the overseas expansion. We'll need someone to oversee the initial coordination."

"That's great news," she said.

"I want you to do it."

Her eyes widened. "Me?"

"You're organized, discreet, and efficient." His gaze held hers. "And I trust you."

The word landed harder than it should have.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"There will be long hours," he added. "And close collaboration."

"I understand."

Another pause.

"You can say no," he said.

She shook her head. "I won't."

Something eased in his expression, just slightly.

"Good."

They worked through the details together, standing too close again, their shoulders nearly brushing as they reviewed documents. Olivia kept her focus on the pages, but her awareness stayed fixed on him.

On the heat of his presence.

On the restraint in every movement.

When they finished, Alexander stepped back. "You should go home."

"Yes," she said.

She turned toward the door.

"Olivia."

She stopped.

He didn't speak right away. When he did, his voice was lower.

"What almost happened last night," he said, "can't be allowed to interfere with this."

"I know."

His eyes searched her face. "Do you?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "It won't."

He studied her for a moment longer, then nodded.

She left, her heart pounding.

That night, she lay awake again, staring at the ceiling.

Because no matter how many times she told herself it was over

She knew it wasn't.