Chapter 30 — The Line Between Wanting and Warning
Eva's pulse throbbed as Derek's fingers tightened around hers, pulling her away from the crowd. The urgent man who'd approached him earlier disappeared with a short nod—like he already knew Derek was about to handle things his own way.
But Derek didn't rush.
He walked with that calm, deadly grace he always had, the kind that made people step aside without thinking. Yet his hand never left hers. His grip was firm, warm, protective.
Possessive.
He led her into a quieter hallway lined with dark wooden panels and low golden lights. With each step, Eva's heart beat harder—not just from fear, but from how close he was, how aware she was of his touch.
When they reached the far end of the corridor, Derek finally stopped near a tall, curtained window. He turned to her slowly, jaw tight, eyes shadowed with something heavy.
Not anger.
Not lust.
Something deeper.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
The gentleness in his voice caught her off guard. "I—yes. I think so."
"Good." His thumb brushed lightly against her knuckles before he let go. "I didn't mean to drag you."
"But you did," she whispered.
His eyes darkened. "I had to."
The hallway was too quiet. Too still. She could hear her own breaths—shallow, uneven—as Derek looked at her like he was trying to decide whether to protect her…
or warn her.
"What happened?" she asked.
He hesitated.
That alone terrified her.
"Derek?"
He looked away, exhaling slowly. "Something at the event needed my attention. Nothing that affects you."
"But it affects you." She stepped closer, trying to read him. "And I keep getting the feeling your world is… dangerous."
His gaze snapped back to hers.
"Eva," he said quietly, "there are things I handle that you don't need to be involved in."
Her chest tightened. "But I am involved. I saw the way your expression changed. Whoever that man was—he looked worried. And you never look worried."
His jaw clenched.
"Maybe I'm worried now," he murmured.
Her breath caught. "About what?"
"You."
Her heart stumbled.
"Derek…"
He stepped closer, closing the distance between them in a single, slow movement. His fingers brushed her cheek, tracing the soft curve of her jaw, and she felt her entire body lean toward him—like gravity itself wanted him.
"You react to me," he whispered. "Even when you're scared. Even when you shouldn't."
Her lips parted, her breath trembling. "And you think that's a problem?"
"I think it's dangerous."
"For who?"
"For both of us."
She swallowed hard.
His thumb skimmed her lower lip.
The touch was barely there—just enough to make her knees weaken.
"You ask too many questions," he said quietly.
"Then answer one." Her voice shook. "Why do I feel like you're always on the edge of telling me something… but you never do?"
His expression shifted—pain flickering for a heartbeat before he masked it.
"Because," he said slowly, "once you know everything… you can't go back."
Her chest tightened.
"And if I want to know?" she whispered.
His breath hitched—just slightly, but enough for her to feel it.
Then Derek leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
"Then I have to be very sure you're ready."
Her legs almost gave out.
His voice—low, silken, dangerous—wrapped around her like a warm hand. A promise. A warning.
She pulled back just enough to see his face.
"What if I'm not ready?" she whispered.
He touched her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. "Then I need to stop."
But he didn't move.
Neither did she.
Their breaths mingled, warm and uneven.
Tension coiled between them—tight, electric, unbearable.
"Derek," she breathed, "you're not stopping."
"I know."
He lowered his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as if fighting something inside him. Eva felt the warmth of his breath on her lips, felt the tremble that ran through her own body.
She didn't step away.
She couldn't.
When he opened his eyes again, they were molten, hungry, struggling between restraint and desire.
And he wasn't winning.
"You don't know what you're doing to me," he said softly.
"Then tell me."
"I want you," he said, voice rough. "More than I should."
Her entire body ignited.
"Then why don't you—"
"Because if I take one more step," he whispered, "I won't let you go tonight."
Her breath hitched.
He wasn't speaking figuratively.
He meant it.
Every word.
Her pulse pounded so loud she could barely hear herself think.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," she managed.
His lips curved into a dark, sinful half-smile.
"For you?" he murmured. "I'm not sure."
His fingers slid along her waist, slow and deliberate, stopping just at the curve where her breath caught and her knees weakened. She felt his hand warm through the fabric, felt the promise of something deeper, hotter, more dangerous.
"Derek…" she whispered, trembling.
"Yes?"
"Are you trying to seduce me?"
"No."
Her heart dropped—until he leaned in, lips brushing her jaw, barely touching.
"I'm trying not to," he whispered.
Her breath broke in a soft gasp.
He dragged that slow, teasing breath across her skin before pulling back enough to meet her eyes again.
"Eva."
The way he said her name shook her to her core.
"What if I don't want you to stop?" she whispered.
Derek went still.
Absolutely still.
His gaze burned locks into hers, the restraint inside him unraveling thread by thread.
"You don't know what you're asking."
"Maybe I do."
He exhaled, slow and heavy, his hand tightening on her waist. "Say it."
Her throat tightened, heat pooling low in her stomach.
"Say… what?" she whispered.
"Say you want me," he murmured. "Say the words."
Her breath shuddered.
"I want…"
His eyes darkened.
She swallowed, unable to look away.
"I want you," she whispered.
The effect on him was immediate.
His jaw tightened. His chest rose sharply. And something dark, hungry, unrestrained flickered in his eyes—like she'd just unlocked a door he'd been holding shut with both hands.
He stepped closer until her back touched the wall, caging her without touching her fully.
"Eva," he murmured, "if I take you with me tonight… there's no going back."
Her heartbeat hammered against her ribs.
"Going back to what?" she whispered.
"Who we were before this."
She hesitated—not because she didn't want him, but because every warning he gave her only made the desire sharper.
"Derek," she whispered, "what are you inviting me into?"
He lowered his head, lips hovering a breath from hers.
"Something you won't forget."
Her breath stopped completely.
"And something," he added, voice a low promise against her mouth, "you might not be able to walk away from."
Her knees weakened.
"Eva," he murmured, "come with me tonight."
Her chest tightened.
Her heart surged.
Her mind spun.
This was it.
The line.
The point where desire clashed with fear, where temptation collided with caution. Where stepping forward meant losing the illusion of safety—and stepping back meant losing Derek's heat, his intensity, his dark, consuming want.
She opened her mouth—
—but a shout echoed from the far end of the hallway, interrupting them.
"Derek!"
His body stiffened.
Eva's breath broke, reality snapping back around them.
Derek's jaw tightened as he looked toward the voice, irritation and danger mixing in his eyes.
The voice came again—urgent, sharp.
"Derek, we need you. Now."
He exhaled slowly, the moment shattered.
But his gaze returned to her, hot and unyielding.
"This isn't over," he murmured.
He took her hand—slowly, deliberately—and lifted it to his lips, brushing a single, seductive kiss against her knuckles.
"Think carefully," he whispered. "When I come back… I'll want your answer."
Her breath trembled.
"And Eva?"
"Yes?"
His eyes locked onto hers, dark and full of promise.
"Whatever you choose…" he whispered, "I hope you're ready."
And then he turned and walked away, leaving her breathless, trembling—
And utterly torn between danger—
and desire.