Page 25 of Worth the Risk
“Declan.” I look up at him. “What are we doing?”
“Dancing,” he says simply.
“You know what I mean.”
His hand tightens slightly on my back, pulling me a fraction closer. “I think we’re figuring that out as we go.”
The song changes to something even slower, and around us other couples move closer together. Declan follows their lead, eliminating the careful space we’ve been maintaining. Now I can feel the solid warmth of his chest against mine, catch the scent of his cologne mixed with lingering feast aromas.
“Maya.” His voice is lower now, meant only for me. “I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“This collaboration—working with you, spending time at Highland, getting to know your community—it’s changing how I think about a lot of things.”
“Such as?”
“Such as whether profit margins are really the most important measure of success. Whether my father’s approach to business was the only way to build something meaningful.” He pauses, his thumb tracing a small circle against my back. “Whether I want to be the kind of man who can walk away from someone like you when this is over.”
The admission hangs between us, honest and vulnerable and completely inappropriate for a professional collaboration. I should step back, remind him that we’re business partners working on Highland’s future, not potential lovers swaying to romantic music at a community festival.
Instead, I find myself moving closer, my free hand sliding from his shoulder to rest against his chest where I can feel his heartbeat, quick and strong beneath my palm.
“This is complicated,” I murmur.
“I know.”
“You’re still the CEO of the company that wants to demolish Highland.”
“I know that, too.”
“And I’m still the woman who will fight you with everything I have if this collaboration doesn’t work.”
“I’m counting on it.” His smile is soft. “I’d be disappointed if you were anything less than fierce about protecting what matters to you.”
The song ends, but neither of us moves to step apart. Around us, couples transition to the next dance or return to conversations and food, but we remain still in the center of the makeshift dance floor.
“Thank you,” Declan says quietly. “For including me today. For letting me be part of this.”
“Thank you for coming. For learning the dances, for being patient with Rosa’s questions.” I pause. “For surprising me.”
His smile is warm. “You’ve been surprising me since the moment you scattered those petition papers across my office floor.”
I laugh despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach, and the sound seems to break whatever spell has been holding us in place.
“I should probably mingle,” I say eventually. “Make sure everything’s running smoothly.”
“Of course.” But he doesn’t step away immediately. “Maya?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad I came today. Highland’s community is extraordinary. I understand now why you fight so hard to protect this.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest tighten with emotion. “I’m glad you came too.”
Before either of us can say anything else that might complicate our professional relationship further, Carlo Martinez appears with a camera and an eager expression.
“Maya, Mr. Pierce, can I get a photo for the newsletter? Tita Sol wants to document community partnerships.”
