Chapter 7: The First Spark of Fire
The evening had been unusually quiet at Sterling & Lane, the office building nearly empty except for Eva and a few late-working colleagues. She had stayed behind to finalize a presentation, but her mind was far from work. Every detail of the night before—the mixer, Derek's smirk, the brush of his hand—replayed in vivid clarity, igniting a fire she had barely allowed herself to feel before.
Eva pressed her palm to her desk, trying to ground herself, but the warmth that lingered in her thoughts was impossible to ignore. Her pulse quickened at the memory of his gray eyes, that magnetic, commanding gaze that seemed to see everything about her—her control, her curiosity, and the parts of her she had never admitted even to herself.
A knock at the office door broke her reverie.
"Eva?" It was Lila, cheerfully popping her head in. "I didn't expect you to still be here. Thought you'd be gone hours ago."
"I'm finishing up," Eva replied, forcing calm into her voice, though her chest still throbbed from memories of Derek.
Lila's smile faltered slightly, a flicker of curiosity passing across her face. "Late night at the office… or… someone on your mind?"
Eva flushed, caught off guard by the teasing tone. "Someone from last night," she admitted softly, just enough to satisfy Lila's curiosity without revealing too much.
Lila arched an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well… try not to burn out. You deserve rest too."
Once Lila left, Eva's attention returned to her laptop, though her fingers hovered uselessly over the keys. The building's lights flickered once, a soft hum filling the space. Then—soft, deliberate—she heard the faint echo of footsteps in the corridor outside.
Her pulse jumped, anticipation prickling at her skin. She wasn't expecting anyone. And yet, deep in the back of her mind, she hoped it might be him.
Before she could rationalize the thought, the office door swung open.
Derek Blackwell.
He stepped inside, tall, commanding, dressed impeccably as always. The air around him seemed to shift, charged with the same magnetic tension that had pulled her in the previous nights. He didn't smile—at least, not fully—but there was a faint curve of amusement at the corner of his lips, a deliberate, tantalizing tease.
"Working late?" His voice was low, smooth, and intimate, filling the small office space in a way that made her pulse spike.
"I… had some things to finish," Eva replied, striving for composure, though her body betrayed her with a subtle shiver. She couldn't look away from him, couldn't resist the pull of his presence.
Derek moved closer, his gaze sweeping over her with that same penetrating intensity. Every step seemed calculated, controlled, yet impossible to ignore. When he reached her desk, he leaned lightly against it, a fraction of space between them, just enough to make her aware of the heat radiating from him.
"You've been thinking about me," he stated, matter-of-fact, not a question but an observation.
Eva's throat went dry. She attempted a laugh, light, teasing, but it sounded small, almost breathless. "I… might have," she admitted, her voice low.
His gray eyes darkened, a spark of something wild and controlled igniting in them. "Might have?" he echoed, leaning just slightly closer, close enough that she could feel the faint warmth of his body. "Miss Sterling, I have a feeling it's more than might. I think… it's impossible for you to stop thinking about me."
Eva swallowed hard, heat pooling low in her stomach. Her pulse raced as every nerve awakened. She wanted to step back, to regain control, but the magnetic draw of him was impossible to resist.
Then, as if reading her hesitation, Derek extended a hand. He brushed his fingers lightly along her arm—not enough to be overtly intimate, but deliberate enough to make her gasp softly. The contact was electrifying, a spark that ignited heat between them she couldn't contain.
"You feel that?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, teasing yet dominant. "The tension… the fire. It's palpable."
Eva's breath hitched. She couldn't look away. The brush of his hand lingered just slightly longer than necessary, the contact light, fleeting, yet searing. Her body responded involuntarily, shivers racing along her spine, heat blooming across her skin.
"I… I feel it," she whispered, voice trembling slightly, betraying more than she intended.
Derek's smirk deepened. "Good," he murmured. "Because that… feeling… it's only the beginning."
He leaned a fraction closer, his presence overwhelming, intoxicating. The faint scent of his cologne—the sharp, clean, subtly masculine aroma—wrapped around her senses. Eva's pulse pounded, and her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to step back, to assert control, but she couldn't. Not with him this close, not with the heat in the room, not with the tension between them so thick it was almost tangible.
"Miss Sterling," Derek murmured, voice husky now, every word deliberate, drawing her in like a magnet, "do you know what you're doing to me?"
Eva's cheeks flushed, a mixture of heat and desire flooding her. "I… I don't know," she admitted, voice barely a whisper.
"You do," he countered, his gaze locking with hers. "Every glance, every subtle movement, every breath… you're teasing me. Testing me."
Her breath caught at the insinuation, a mix of thrill and something dangerously intimate coursing through her veins. Derek's hand brushed hers again, fingers lingering on the back of her hand just long enough to make her pulse spike.
Eva felt the fire building within her, a dangerous, scorching desire that both terrified and thrilled her. She had never experienced anything like this—Derek's presence was overwhelming, a potent mix of dominance, charisma, and raw intensity. She wanted to step back, to resist, but the pull was irresistible.
He leaned even closer, just inches from her face, and she could feel the warmth of his breath, the intensity of his gaze, the subtle tension in the space between them. "Do you feel that spark?" he murmured, his lips barely moving, voice dripping with subtle command. "That fire between us?"
Eva's lips parted, unable to form words. The answer was undeniable. The fire coursing through her veins, the heat pooling low in her stomach, the pulse racing in her chest—it was all-consuming.
"Good," Derek whispered, a low, deliberate murmur that sent shivers down her spine. "Because I intend to explore it… thoroughly."
Her chest tightened at the implication, her body responding in ways she hadn't anticipated. She realized, with a mixture of fear and exhilaration, that she wanted him to. That the tension, the sparks, the barely-contained desire—it was only the beginning of something dangerously thrilling.
He traced a finger lightly along the side of her hand again, a subtle but deliberate caress, lingering far longer than necessary. Eva shivered, her breath shallow, heart pounding wildly. The contact was minimal, but electric, igniting something deep within her she hadn't dared explore before.
"I… I shouldn't—" she began, voice trembling, but he silenced her with a look.
"Shouldn't?" he echoed, his tone low and commanding, almost a growl. "Miss Sterling, there's no such thing here. Not when the fire is real… not when the chemistry is undeniable."
Eva's pulse raced, awareness blooming in every nerve ending. She realized, with a thrilling shiver, that she was utterly captivated—drawn to him in ways she couldn't resist, and that she didn't want to.
He leaned slightly closer, the tension between them suffocating in its intensity. The heat, the lingering touches, the charged glances—all coalesced into a single, undeniable truth: Derek Blackwell was dangerous, intoxicating, and irresistible.
And Eva Sterling was already too deep to turn back.