Page 27 of Her Holiday Arrangement
The air between them shimmered, charged.
“You can go to sleep,” Elizabeth said, voice hushed. “I’m not going anywhere.”
It sounded like a promise. One Riley wasn’t sure she deserved. One she wanted anyway.
She nodded slowly, though she didn’t close her eyes.
And neither did Elizabeth.
They stayed like that, facing each other in the dark, saying nothing more.
Breathing.
Not touching.
And feeling everything.
Riley woke up slowly, blinking into the soft gray light filtering through the heavy curtains. For a moment, she forgot where she was, forgot the snow, the fake dating scheme, the centuries of Hale family portraits judging her from the hallway.
All she registered was warmth.
Then came the awareness.
A deep inhale. Not hers. Slow and steady beside her.
Elizabeth.
Riley didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just listened to the even rhythm of Elizabeth’s sleeping breath and the way the sheets rose and fell beside her. Her heart started thudding faster, not with panic, exactly. Something quieter. Sadder.
She wassoaware of her body. Of how close they were. Of how the edge of Elizabeth’s arm brushed hers beneath the duvet.
Riley turned her head slowly, carefully, to look.
And there she was.
Not the CEO. Not the ice queen in a suit. Just… a woman. Asleep.
Her hair was slightly mussed at the temple where it had pressed against the pillow. A lock curled toward her cheek. Her lips were parted, and at the corner of her mouth, there was the faintest line, one that only appeared when she wasn’t trying to hide anything.
Riley had never seen her like this. Soft. Still. Unprotected.
Her chest ached.
She told herself it was the moment. The intimacy of waking up beside someone. The quiet spell of morning light and winter silence. That’s all it was. Just a trick of atmosphere.
Don’t fall for her.
Don’t fall for her.
Don’t fall for her.
But she already had.
It hit her like a wave, how much shewantedthis to be real. Not just the pretending. Not just the warmth and laughter and late-night conversations in the dark. She wantedthis: the morning after, the small details, the slow realization that someone you thought was unknowable… isn’t.
Riley turned her face back to the ceiling, eyes wide, heart pounding.
This was a job. It had always been a job.
