The CEO’s Unspoken Love (Eleanor and Derek) novel Chapter 142

Chapter 142

Eleanor POV

A few days after Christmas, life in Boston had settled back into its regular rhythm-or at least tried to. The winter showed no signs of relenting, with temperatures hovering stubbornly below freezing and occasional snow flurries dusting the streets. Despite the holiday decorations still adorning many storefronts, the city had returned to business as usual, and so had I.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

In truth, I couldn’t stop thinking about Christmas Eve and Christmas Day-how I’d melted into Derek’s touch both times, how my body had betrayed my mind with such embarrassing eagerness. I hated how easily he could unravel my resolve, how his lips-so impossibly soft for someone with such sharp words-could make me forget years of hurt. Every time he touched me, I became like a sponge, absorbing his energy, his heat, his desire until I was saturated with him.

The memory of his weight on me, the taste of his skin, the way his breath hitched when I ran my nails down his back-these thoughts ambushed me at the most inconvenient moments. During client consultations. While arranging delicate orchids. In the

shower. Driving home.

I had spent the past days immersed in work, deliberately drowning myself in orders for corporate office displays and seasonal centerpieces. Mia and Rachel had commented on my unusual focus, the extra hours I was putting in. “Winter blues, I’d explained with a forced smile. It was easier to focus on flower arrangements than to untangle the complicated web of emotions that Christmas

Eve had left me with.

When Olivia texted insisting we meet for drinks, claiming a “friend emergency, I reluctantly agreed. Maybe talking would help clear my mind-though I knew I couldn’t tell her everything. Some secrets were too raw, too personal to share, even with my closest

friend.

The early evening sky was already dark as I navigated the icy sidewalks of Newbury Street. Streetlamps cast pools of warm light on the snow, and shop windows glowed invitingly. I passed a boutique where Derek had once bought me a cashmere scarf-the same scarf currently wound around my neck, I realized with a jolt of irritation at myself. I should have left it at home.

I slipped through the heavy oak door of Ascension, one of Boston’s more exclusive cocktail lounges, and immediately spotted Olivia waving from a corner booth. The warmth inside hit me in a wave, bringing color back to my cheeks and thawing my frozen fingertips. The lounge smelled of cedar, citrus, and expensive whiskey.

“There she is, Olivia called, raising her martini glass. “I thought you’d never escape that flower shop of yours.”

Three corporate clients back-to-back,” I said, unwinding Derek’s scarf-no, my scarf-and sliding into the leather booth. The buttery leather squeaked softly beneath me. “January means new quarterly budgets, so everyone suddenly wants fresh displays for their reception areas. The Morgan Stanley people alone ordered six arrangements.”

Olivia signaled the server, a poised woman in a crisp black uniform who approached with silent efficiency. “Another gin martini with extra olives for my friend, please. The server nodded and glided away. Olivia knew my preferences well, just as she knew when

something was bothering me.

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Chapter 142

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The lounge hummed with the quiet conversations of Boston’s professional class. A pianist in the corner played soft jazz standards,

the notes floating above the murmur of voices. The lighting was dim enough to feel intimate but bright enough to catch every

subtle expression-a detail I was acutely aware of as Olivia studied my face.

“So,” she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief, the gold flecks in her brown irises catching the light from the candle

between us. “Are you finally going to tell me what happened on Christmas Eve? James mentioned things seemed to have…

progressed between you two.”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, but not because of James. My mind flashed unbidden to Derek’s hands on my skin, his body against mine, the way he’d whispered my name like a prayer-memories I’d been trying desperately to suppress. I took a deep breath,

inhaling the scent of the fresh rosemary garnish on Olivia’s cocktail.

“Nothing happened, I said automatically, studying the cocktail menu with sudden fascination, tracing the embossed leather with my

fingertip.

Olivia’s perfectly shaped eyebrow arched skeptically. “Come on, Eleanor. James wouldn’t have said that if nothing happened.” She tilted her head, a lock of her dark hair falling across her cheek. “He seemed pretty confident that you two had a connection.”

I sighed, realizing I needed to give her something or she’d never let this go. The server returned with my martini, the glass frosted and perfect. I took a grateful sip, the gin burning pleasantly down my throat.

“Fine. We kissed. Once. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“You what?” Olivia’s eyes widened, her voice rising enough that a couple at the next table glanced our way. The man in a charcoal suit looked vaguely familiar-probably a client of Wells Investment Bank. I lowered my voice.

“It was just a kiss, Liv,” I said, uncomfortable with her enthusiasm when the kiss with James had been so… unmemorable. Especially compared to what had happened later that night with Derek. James’s kiss had been gentle, respectful, technically perfect-like a well-executed dance move. Derek’s kisses were consuming, demanding, a force of nature that left me breathless and disoriented.

“Was it good? Did you feel anything? Are you seeing him again?” She fired questions rapidly, leaning forward with each one, her bracelets clinking against the table. I need details, Eleanor. This is the first real development in your love life since-

“Since my divorce,” I finished for her, twisting the olive in my martini with the small plastic sword. “Which, may I remind you, is

still quite recent.”

Recent but necessary, Olivia said firmly. And well past due. Now tell me about this kiss.”

Before I could formulate a response that wouldn’t reveal my complicated truth, the leather seat beside me dipped.

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The CEO’s Unspoken Love