Something hits my back.
A stone, maybe.
I don’t turn around.
When I look up, Ben is walking toward me, chin high, eyes fixed on mine. Professional, as always. He reaches me in three long strides, takes my elbow, and steers me across the farmyard toward the main building.
“Ignore them,” he says quietly. “Eyes front. Walk with me.”
I pull my elbow from his grip.
“I don’t need protecting,” I mutter. “We’re partners in this.”
A voice calls from behind us. “Is he your business partner or your dinner date?”
I hesitate mid-step. Ben’s hand presses briefly at the base of my back. “Keep walking,” he says.
And we do. We walk into the farmhouse together.
Inside, Ben steps in behind me and closes the door, sliding the bolt across the top.
It’s just the two of us in the site office. We got rid of the portacabin about three weeks ago, once the main house became watertight and we finally had electricity.
He sighs. “It’s getting worse. Julian needs to get this under control. There’s no way they should be here at every single site visit. We can barely speak before someone shouts at us.”
“How did they know?” I whisper.
He looks up. My breath catches as soon as his gaze lands. “Know what?”
“About last night.”
He swallows and shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe someone saw us. Maybe they’re guessing. Does it really matter?”
I hold his gaze. Today is so different from the night before. The business world has reappeared, the space between us wider.
But I still remember how easily that space disappeared.
I shouldn’t still feel it. But I do. The warmth of his hand on my back. The anticipation of what's next as he leaned in.
Something’s shifted, even if we’re pretending it hasn’t with the chaos on the other side of the door.
“How can you even ask that? Of course it matters. This is my professional life. This is my career. This is who I am.”
My voice sharpens. “I don’t want a reputation for sleeping with the people I work with. Never mind sleeping with a man I’m funding.”
His face darkens, but he can’t argue. The retreat, after all, was his ambition. He needed me for it to take off. And here we are, one day after a line was crossed, and there are already whispers that we’re romantically involved.
I’m not sure I can cope with that.
I’ve always prided myself on my professionalism. On who I am. The CEO. The woman at the top of the company. In control.
And here I am, stepping out with a man I’m giving money to so he can build a retreat in honor of his dead wife.
Even thinking that sounds insane. Saying it out loud would be worse.
“Antonia,” Ben says quietly. There’s no missing the apprehension in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I don’t look at him. I can’t, or I may crumble and ask him to hold me. His chest offers warmth I can’t afford to sink into. So I just move to the desk and open my laptop.