Chapter 29 — Whispered Heat in a Room Full of People
The ballroom shimmered under gold chandeliers, but Eva felt the weight of Derek's presence long before she spotted him. She sensed him—like heat sliding across her skin—before she saw him standing at the far end of the room in a black suit sharp enough to cut glass.
Her breath wavered.
He wasn't looking at her. Not yet. But his aura dominated the crowd: cold, controlled, magnetic. The kind of power that didn't need attention—it commanded it.
And tonight, Eva was trying very, very hard to pretend she wasn't still unraveling from what she'd seen days before… that glimpse into Derek's world that had left her both frightened and yearning.
She didn't know whether to run from him
—
or run straight into his arms.
Her friend Maya nudged her with a playful grin. "You're staring."
"I'm not," Eva whispered, even as her eyes lingered on Derek's jawline, the shadowed sharpness of it.
"You are. And he's staring back."
"No, he—"
She stopped.
Because he was.
His gaze hooked into hers across the crowded room, piercing and slow, like he was undressing her with his eyes alone.
A delicious shiver curled up her spine.
"He looks like he wants to devour you," Maya teased.
Eva swallowed. "That's the problem."
Before she could say more, someone bumped into her from behind—hard enough to almost spill her drink. A man laughed an apology, clearly drunk, and Eva stepped back, steadying herself.
Suddenly, a warm hand slid around her lower back—firm, possessive, unmistakable.
Her heart stopped.
Derek.
He hadn't touched her like this in public yet. Not openly. Not boldly. But now his hand was there—heavy, claiming—and he leaned forward, his breath brushing her ear.
"Easy," he murmured, voice low, smooth, dark. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
Heat shot through her body.
Maya smirked like she'd just witnessed the most delicious drama of the night. "I'll… give you two a moment," she whispered, disappearing into the crowd.
Eva tried to step away, but Derek's hand stayed, guiding her subtly toward a quieter corner of the ballroom. Not rough. Not forceful. Just… inevitable.
"Derek," she breathed, "we're in public."
His fingers pressed lightly against her back, sending a bolt of electricity through her spine.
"Exactly," he murmured. "So behave."
Behave?
Her whole body clenched at the challenge in his tone.
Once they reached a dim stretch near a draped window, he shifted closer—so close she felt the heat of his chest at her back.
"You look beautiful tonight," he said, eyes tracing her slowly. "Too beautiful."
"Too?"
He reached out and brushed a stray curl from her cheek, his knuckles barely grazing her skin. The touch was feather-light, but it felt like fire.
"You're attracting attention."
"Is that a problem?" Her voice came out breathier than she intended.
A dangerous smile touched his lips. "For them."
She exhaled shakily, because there it was—that subtle dominance that always made her knees weak, that quiet claim he never put into words.
"You're being bold tonight," she whispered.
"I'm being patient," he corrected. "Bold would be kissing you against that wall."
Her pulse stumbled.
"But I won't." His thumb stroked her cheek once, slow and sensual. "Not yet."
Her cheeks flushed. "Not yet?"
He leaned in, lips hovering by her ear. "You don't want me to stop. And you know it."
Her knees nearly buckled.
"Derek…" She forced a breath. "People are watching."
"I know." His mouth brushed—barely, teasing—the edge of her ear. "Let them wonder."
Her entire body tightened with need.
Then someone called his name from across the room. Derek straightened slowly, but instead of stepping away, he rested his hand lightly on her hip—too low to be innocent.
"Come with me," he said.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
He arched a brow. "Since when does anything between us fall under 'good idea'?"
She had no answer. Because he was right.
He guided her through the crowd, each touch subtle and intimate—a hand at the small of her back, his fingers brushing hers like a secret. People turned to look; she could feel their curiosity.
One man—a tall guy with designer glasses—grinned knowingly as they passed.
"Finally," he muttered. "Thought you two would never get there."
Eva flushed.
Derek didn't bother acknowledging him.
They stopped near a bar, and he ordered her drink without asking—because he remembered exactly what she liked. When he handed her the glass, his fingertips deliberately brushed hers.
"You're playing with fire," she said.
He took a slow sip of his drink, eyes never leaving hers. "I always get what I want."
"And what… exactly do you want right now?"
"You."
The simple word hit her low in her stomach.
Then someone approached—a woman in a tight silver dress, tall and elegant, her eyes flicking between them with thinly disguised curiosity.
"Derek," she said with that polished socialite smile. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"You rarely expect anything I do," he replied flatly.
The woman's gaze slid to Eva, lingering a moment too long. "And who's this?"
Before Eva could speak, Derek stepped closer—so close she could feel his body aligned with hers.
"This," he said, voice low and unmistakably possessive, "is Eva."
The woman's smile tightened. "I see."
Eva tried not to smirk. It was petty. But she liked the way Derek said her name—like a claim.
Once the woman walked away, Derek's fingers slid discreetly along the inside of Eva's wrist, barely there.
"You enjoyed that," he murmured.
"I did not."
"You did."
She looked away, but he tilted her chin back toward him with the gentlest pressure of two fingers.
"You don't have to hide it," he said. "I like it too."
Her breath hitched.
Then he leaned forward, lips ghosting so close to her jaw she felt the warmth of his breath.
"Tell me," he whispered, "does it bother you when people look at me?"
Her pulse stuttered. "Maybe."
"Good."
"Derek—"
"It means you feel it too."
The air between them tightened, electric and heated. She wasn't sure if she wanted to kiss him or shove him away.
A slow song drifted through the speakers, silky and intimate.
Derek extended his hand.
"Dance with me."
Her instincts screamed danger.
Her heart whispered yes.
She slid her hand into his.
He pulled her flush against him—one hand at her waist, the other capturing her fingers. Their bodies fit together perfectly, scandalously, as they moved to the rhythm.
Her breath caught.
Every shift of his hips, every gentle squeeze of his hand, every brush of his thigh against hers—it all sent heat flooding through her.
"You're trembling," he murmured.
"I'm not."
He smirked. "Eva."
She swallowed. "Fine. A little."
His mouth brushed her temple—not quite a kiss, but close enough to steal her breath.
"I like when you react to me," he said.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulder.
"And what about you?" she whispered. "Do I… affect you?"
He guided her deliberately closer, his body pressed fully to hers, leaving no space for doubt.
"You tell me," he said softly at her ear.
Her cheeks burned.
The music slowed further, dipping into something sultry. Derek's hand slid lower along her back—still respectable… but almost not.
"Derek," she whispered, breathless.
"Yes?"
"People are staring."
"Let them."
Her heart hammered.
His eyes locked onto hers, dark and hungry, and for a second—just a second—she thought he might kiss her in front of everyone.
But he didn't.
Instead he lowered his forehead to hers, letting the moment throb with desire, tension, and restraint.
"If I kiss you here," he whispered, "I won't stop."
Her knees nearly gave out.
The song ended. Derek stepped back just enough to let her breathe, though his fingers remained on her waist—warm, claiming, refusing to let go.
"Eva."
She looked up.
"There's something I need to tell you," he said.
Her stomach dropped—fear mingling with desire.
"What thing?" she asked, voice trembling.
Before he could answer, someone rushed up to them, panic in their voice.
"Derek—there's a problem."
He went still.
The air shifted.
Danger seeped into the edges of the room like a shadow.
Derek's jaw tightened, and his hand closed around Eva's with a sudden, urgent grip.
"Stay close," he murmured.
Her heart pounded.
Because the look in his eyes wasn't lust anymore.
It was warning.
And whatever was coming…
It was only the beginning.