Chapter 5: Evie’s First Move
The mansion was quiet except for the steady rhythm of rain drumming against the tall windows. Evie stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, heart hammering as she adjusted the thin straps of the silk slip dress.
It was modest enough to pass as bedtime attire, cream-colored, falling mid-thigh, with a subtle drape that slipped off one shoulder if she moved just right. Innocent on the surface, but dangerous underneath.
She had spent the last hour planning this. Researching from her secret stash of romance novels. Practicing expressions in the mirror. Tonight, she would stop being just the little sister. Tonight, Aiden would see her… really see her.
Her long dark hair fell in soft waves down her back. She dabbed a touch of vanilla perfume on her wrists and behind her ears, the scent she knew he liked. One last look, a deep breath, and she padded barefoot down the wide marble hallway toward Aiden’s home office.
The door was slightly ajar. Warm light spilled into the corridor. Evie paused, watching him for a moment. Aiden sat behind the massive oak desk, sleeves of his black button-down rolled up to his elbows, revealing the edge of a tattoo on his forearm. His dark hair was tousled from running his fingers through it. A glass of whiskey sat untouched beside a stack of reports. He looked exhausted. Powerful. Irresistible.
“Rough day?” she asked softly, pushing the door open.
Aiden looked up. His sharp gaze softened the instant it landed on her, then darkened as it traced the slip dress and bare legs. “Evie. You should be in bed, angel.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. The room smelled of him, cologne, leather, and faint whiskey. “I saw the headlines. Thought you might need company.”
He leaned back in his chair, watching her approach. “You don’t need to worry about that nonsense.”
“But I do.” Evie circled the desk slowly. Her fingers brushed his shoulder as she moved behind him. “You take care of everyone else. Who takes care of you?”
Before he could answer, she placed her hands on his shoulders and began a gentle massage. His muscles were knotted tight beneath her palms. Aiden exhaled heavily, head tilting forward. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. She worked her thumbs along the base of his neck, leaning in so her hair brushed his cheek. The silk of her dress whispered against his arm. “You canceled meetings for me. You investigate anyone who touches me. Let me do something for you.”
Aiden’s hand came up, covering one of hers. His grip was warm, firm. For several long seconds, neither spoke. The rain pattered louder against the windows. Evie’s pulse thundered in her ears.
“You’re too good to me,” he murmured.
She smiled against the back of his head. “You deserve it.” Slowly, she moved around to perch on the edge of the desk in front of him, facing him directly. The dress rode up her thighs just enough. Aiden’s eyes flicked down for half a second before locking back on her face.
“Evie…” There was a warning in his tone, but his hand settled on her knee, thumb stroking absentmindedly.
“Tell me about your day,” she said, ignoring the warning. “The real version, not the one the board hears.”
He talked. About the faulty projections, the pressure from investors, the endless meetings. All while his thumb traced small circles on her skin. Evie listened, nodding, leaning closer. Every laugh she gave, every soft “I’m proud of you,” seemed to unravel him a little more.
At one point, she reached out and loosened his tie completely, sliding it free. “You’re tense again.”
Aiden caught her wrist, the same one with the fading mark from Damien. His expression darkened. “I got the report back. Damien Cole’s family has connections. He’s persistent… too persistent.”
Jealousy flared in Evie, but she used it. “Then distract me from him,” she whispered. “Like you always do.”
The air thickened. Aiden’s grip tightened. His free hand rose to tuck her hair behind her ear, lingering at her jaw the way it had in the car. His eyes dropped to her lips. For one electric moment, the space between them shrank. Evie leaned in, heart soaring…
Aiden pulled back slightly, jaw clenched. “Angel, you should go to bed.”
Disappointment crashed through her, but she didn’t retreat. Instead, she slid off the desk and into his lap, straddling him in one smooth motion. The silk rode higher. Her arms looped around his neck. “Just a few more minutes. Please?”
His hands settled on her waist automatically, steadying her. The touch burned. “Evie…” His voice was rougher now, and lower. “This isn’t…”
“What?” She tilted her head, her doe eyes wide and pleading. “I’m just sitting with my brother. The person I trust most in the world.” Her fingers played with the collar of his shirt, brushing the warm skin beneath. “Unless… there’s something wrong with that?”
Aiden’s breathing changed. His hands flexed on her waist, fingers digging in just enough to send sparks down her spine. She could feel the tension in his body, the war he was fighting. His gaze dropped to her mouth again, then lower to where the dress had slipped off her shoulder.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now,” he said, almost to himself.
Evie’s pulse spiked. “Then show me.”
The words hung between them. Aiden’s hand slid up her back, pulling her closer. Their foreheads nearly touched. She could smell the whiskey on his breath, feel the heat radiating from his chest. His lips parted…
His phone rang sharply on the desk.
Aiden cursed under his breath. Lucas Reed’s name flashed on the screen. He didn’t let go of her immediately. For several heartbeats, they stayed locked together, breathing each other in. Then, reluctantly, he reached for the phone with one hand while the other remained possessively on her hip.
“What?” he answered, voice clipped.
Evie stayed in his lap, listening. Lucas was talking about the gala tomorrow, Isabella Hawthorne’s confirmed attendance, and new intel on Damien. Aiden’s expression hardened with every word, but his thumb kept stroking her hip in slow, absent circles.
“Handle it,” he said finally. “I’ll deal with the rest in the morning.” He ended the call and tossed the phone aside.
His eyes returned to Evie, darker than before. “The gala tomorrow. You’re coming with me.” It wasn’t a question.
She smiled, tracing a finger along his jaw. “Of course… I won't miss it.”
Aiden studied her face, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. “Go to bed, angel. Before I do something we’ll both regret.”
Evie slid off his lap slowly, deliberately, letting her body brush against his. At the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Sweet dreams, Aiden.”
She left the office with her heart racing and a secret smile. The first move had worked better than she hoped. The tension was no longer one-sided.
But as she climbed into her own bed minutes later, the guilt returned. *He’s your brother.* The words echoed, but they felt weaker tonight.
Down the hall, Aiden sat alone in the office, staring at the closed door. His hands still tingled where they had touched her. The whiskey glass remained untouched.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.
The thoughts he had pushed away earlier, the jealousy, the protectiveness, the way her body felt in his lap, refused to stay buried any longer. And for the first time, Aiden Scott wasn’t sure he wanted them to.
