Turbulence at 30,000 Feet.
Flight to Mexico
The hum of the jet engines thrummed softly in the background as Eva sat across from Damien in his sleek, private jet. The interior was nothing short of breathtaking, polished mahogany, cream leather seats, soft gold accents, but none of it could compare to the man sitting before her.
Damien Lopez.
Every inch of him screamed control, power, and untouchable elegance. He was focused, eyes pinned to the sleek tablet in his hands as he reviewed his business plans, completely engrossed. But Eva... she was mesmerized. Utterly and helplessly so.
He looked so impossibly handsome it was almost criminal. His features were carved like a marble sculpture, flawless and intense. The way he furrowed his brows in concentration, the way his lips pressed together in thought, it was maddeningly sexy. Her eyes dropped to those lips, the same lips she had once tasted. Once kissed, impulsively, recklessly, as if her life depended on it.
And back then, he had kissed her back.
Her throat tightened as her eyes roamed. His perfectly tailored suit hugged every inch of his lean, muscular frame. Those long legs, the broad shoulders, the elegance of how he sat, it all made him look like a prince from another world. Her stomach fluttered. A heat spread through her, slow and sinful.
She tried to pull her gaze away, but it was like her body betrayed her.
She remembered the day she saw him shirtless. The day she spilled hot coffee on his torso. God. The memory flashed like fire behind her eyes. The ridges of his abs, the way his trousers had clung low on his hips, the smoothness of his skin… She nearly gasped aloud. That image had haunted her for days. And now, seated across from him, she felt it all over again. Her body tingled in places it shouldn't, her breath came shallow, and her skin felt far too hot.
Then_
He suddenly looked up.
Their eyes locked.
And the world stopped.
Time, sound, thought, everything froze. His gaze, dark and unreadable, pierced through her like he could see everything she was hiding. Every lie. Every longing. Every secret beat of her heart.
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't blink.
Those eyes held her captive, and her heart began to pound. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound escaped. Her throat was bone-dry, and she kept swallowing, desperate to steady herself. But he didn't look away. Didn't blink. He just stared at her, silent, intense, burning.
Her pulse raced.
She felt exposed.
She felt… wanted.
And just right when she had that devilish impulse to pass her boundaries to hold him again like she used to when she was Ana, she was actually dangerously close to leaning, across the space between them and doing something she'd regret.
But at the last second, reality returned with a cruel rush. Her eyes widened, and she stumbled to her feet like she'd just woken from a dream. Without a word, Eva bolted toward the back of the jet, her heels clicking urgently against the marble floor.
In the restroom, she turned the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, over and over again. Her heart was still pounding in her chest.
What the hell was that?
Why did just one look from him still undo her so completely?
She gripped the sink edge tightly, staring at her reflection.
Because once upon a time, he had been hers.
And now… he wasn't.
Damien's POV
When Eric had first suggested that Eva accompany him on the trip to Mexico, Damien felt something odd stir in his chest, tight, raw, and unshakable.
Fear.
Not the kind he felt before a high-stakes board meeting or while facing a billion-dollar acquisition. No, this was deeper. Personal. Intimate. It felt like a silent threat, like being dragged toward a dangerous current he wasn't prepared for.
He hadn't felt this way in years, if ever.
Restlessness brewed inside him. Quiet but unrelenting. He wasn't sure he could trust himself around her. Not on a private jet. Not with hours of proximity and silence thick enough to suffocate.
Because the truth was, anything that had to do with Eva, anything at all unsettles him, made him feel… unrecognizable. She stripped him bare with nothing but her presence, made him question the iron-clad control he prided himself on.
That was the very reason he'd made her his assistant PA. So he could study her. Observe her like a puzzle he couldn't stop trying to solve. Every smirk, every flicker of hesitation in her eyes, every damn time she bit her lip when she thought no one was watching, he noticed everything.
So why did the idea of this trip unsettle him so much?
The moment they boarded his jet, she'd taken the seat across from him. It was a harmless act. Professional, even. But when he sat down and pulled out his iPad to crosscheck the itinerary, something shifted.
He felt it.
That stare.
Burning. Intense. Heavy.
Eva was watching him. No, devouring him with her eyes.
Damien didn't look up right away. He didn't have to. He was the kind of man who caught every small detail, a subtle blink, the way air shifted when someone entered a room. And her gaze? It was like a brand searing into his skin. He felt it slide over him like a laser, he could even feel it , lingering far too long on his face. And she held it down for a few minutes.
He scoffed inwardly, keeping his expression calm.
Why is she staring at me like that? he mused, fingers pausing over the screen, the corner of his mouth twitching into a silent scoff. Doesn't she usually act like I'm invisible? Like I'm just another man in a suit? Some cold CEO who doesn't deserve a second glance?
He kept his expression neutral, but his mind wasn't still.
What's going on in that pretty little head of hers?
Does she like me now?
Is she finally seeing me as more than a signature on her paycheck?
Could it be that she's… attracted to me?
But this… this wasn't that.
It was different.
Suddenly, a thousand more questions swarmed his mind. Is she into me now? Has something changed?
Does she finally see me as a man?
A dangerous part of him liked the idea, too much.
But then, like a dark cloud crashing through his moment of fantasy, Damien's mind conjured the image of him. The man she was with. The one he had seen shirtless.
That guy.
Tall. Muscular. Gym-toned like a damn Greek god. His skin had glistened like he'd walked out of a Calvin Klein ad. He even looked… decent. Attractive, in a way Damien couldn't deny.
And clearly, the man wasn't poor either.
Damien clenched his jaw slightly.
So she's not lacking in good looks, or money, he thought bitterly.
So why the stare?
Why now?
Was it possible that her walls were cracking? That despite the perfect man on her arm, she was starting to want him?
His pulse ticked faster. The idea was intoxicating. Addictive. Dangerous.
While still caught up in his tangled thoughts, another idea suddenly struck him, one that made his blood simmer with rage.
So she does sleep with that man. That perfectly sculpted, too-good-to-be-true "type" of hers.
The mere possibility made his jaw tighten. Heat flushed through his veins, uninvited and unstoppable. He hated how the thought consumed him, how jealousy curled its poisonous fingers around his chest. He found himself glaring at her, at that calm, innocent face she wore like a mask.
And then their eyes met.
Time seemed to stutter.
A strange, dangerous current passed between them, one that made his skin prickle and his breath hitch. He should've looked away. He should've shut the door on the chaos flooding his mind. But he didn't.
All he could think about was how she played weak and delicate before him… only to imagine her whispering sinful things in another man's ear. The contrast drove him mad.
A flash of something forbidden lit up in his mind, a wild, reckless image of her standing before him, bare and vulnerable. How would she look with nothing to hide behind? The thought of cupping those full, perfect breasts in his hands made heat crawl up his spine. And then, those lips, lush, a little fuller than Tyler's but just as haunting. He remembered the taste of Tyler's lips, the softness, the danger.
He began to wonder if Eva's lips would taste the same.
His fingers twitched against his lap, his breath heavy.
And then his thoughts spiraled further, he imagined what it would feel like to have her beneath him, tangled in his sheets, completely his. The idea sent a fire raging through his veins. He wondered what sounds she would make, how her body would react to his touch. Would he be able to stop himself? Probably not. He could already picture himself devouring her, pulling her into his very soul until there was no line between them.
He dragged his eyes away, cursing himself.
What the hell was wrong with me?
He asked himself inwardly, then forcing himself to stop such uncanny images cascading through his mind, pushing it far away, scolding himself inwardly for letting his mind stray so far. Focus, he told himself. She's just your assistant. That's all she is.
Still, something didn't sit right. Why was she staring at him like that, eyes fixed, unmoving? Why did it look like there was pain in her expression? Or was it guilt? Or… desire?
He couldn't tell anymore. And that unsettled him most.
He found himself suddenly confused. What is going on? Who exactly is this girl? Just as he tried to decipher her gaze, just when he thought he could peel back the layers and see through her, then she did something completely unexpected.
She stood up abruptly, her movements jerky, like she couldn't get away fast enough. And then… she ran. Not walked, ran out of the cabin, her heels clicking against the floor in a frantic rhythm.
Damian scoffed under his breath, but his eyes didn't leave her. He remained frozen in place, watching her silhouette disappear, his thoughts tangled in a storm of curiosity, heat, and something dangerously close to obsession.