She turned to her guard, who was standing stiffly behind her, eyes sharp on Winn. "It’s fine," she murmured. The guard’s jaw flexed but he stepped back, glancing at Winn once more before retreating toward the edge of the site.

Ivy took a slow breath, gathering herself, and followed Winn.

He didn’t say another word as he led her toward his Maybach parked just outside the area. He opened the rear door for her, his hand brushing the small of her back, igniting a tremor that she hated herself for feeling.

She slipped inside and was relieved to find a familiar face behind the wheel. "Hi, Reese," she said nervously, managing a faint smile.

"Miss Morales," Reese greeted. "Nice to see you again."

Of course it was him. Winn hadn’t changed a thing—not his driver, not his car.

Winn got in beside her, and the space between them immediately crackled with unspoken tension. "Orchard Estate, Reese," he said quietly.

Reese’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. "Yes, sir."

Ivy turned her head sharply, frowning. "Why there?"

"That’s where I live now."

"With Sharona?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Winn’s jaw tensed. His gaze flicked toward the window, the muscle in his cheek ticking once before he replied, "She stays at my house in Tribeca now."

My house in Tribeca. His words echoed in her head. The same one they had first made love in.

"It was the only way to keep the press satisfied," he added. "They needed the illusion I am a happily married man. So I gave it to them."

Ivy nodded slowly, her heart pounding. The rest of the ride was thick with silence.

At one point, her knee brushed his. She drew in a sharp breath, but neither of them moved away. The air between them grew heavy, their bodies remembering what their minds refused to admit.

By the time Reese pulled into the Orchard Estate, the sun was high in the sky.

The silence stretched again as they walked side by side toward the house. Finally, Winn stopped near the entrance, turning to face her.

"I shouldn’t have let you leave that day, should I?" he said at last. "The day you left here and walked right out of my life."

"I—" She faltered, blinking up at him. His eyes were on her, not angry now, but lost. Completely, devastatingly lost.

"Do you ever think," he continued, stepping closer until their breaths mingled, "how different things could’ve been... if I’d just stopped you that night?"

Her lips parted, a shuddering breath escaping her.

"Winn, please don’t do this."

"Come on," he said simply. He opened the door. She hesitated only for a heartbeat before stepping inside.

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the world outside vanished. Then Winn moved. Fast. Before she could speak again, his hand was on her waist, spinning her toward him, and his mouth captured hers.

It was fire meeting gasoline. A collision of want and rage and grief. Ivy gasped, caught off guard, her hands instinctively bracing against his chest. She melted.

God help her, she had been fantasizing about this since the moment she saw him again. Every stolen glance, every word exchanged, had only stoked the flame she’d sworn she’d extinguished. There was no disapproval in her, none at all.

She kissed him back with equal ferocity, fingers sliding into his hair as if they had a mind of their own. The taste of him was devastatingly familiar.

He groaned into her mouth, one hand cradling the back of her neck, the other roaming lower—possessive, desperate.

When Ivy felt the hard pressure against her stomach, reality crashed back in. Her breath caught, and a wave of panic surged through her veins, quenching the molten heat that had pooled there moments ago.

She froze, her heart pounding so loud it seemed to echo in the grand silence of the room. Then, with every ounce of willpower she could summon, she pressed both hands to his chest and pushed away. "No!"

Winn’s lips hovered just a breath away from hers, his pupils still blown wide with desire. "Ivy..."

"No!" she repeated, firmer this time. "We cannot do this! You are married and... and I am seeing someone."

She saw the flicker of disbelief cross his face, the sharp twist of his jaw as if she’d just struck him. "You have got to be kidding me." Winn dragged a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the strands in frustration.

She lifted her chin. "You wanted to talk, then talk."

He stepped closer, not touching her this time. "I just want to know why. Everyone says you got cold feet. You didn’t even give me a chance to warm them up."

The lump in her throat made it hard to breathe. "Yes," she whispered at last. "I did get cold feet. But..." She faltered, glancing away. "I... I had an accident. And I... and then you got married."

"I tracked your credit card. It says you bought a plane ticket to Newark."

She swallowed hard. "Yes... yes, I had the accident in Newark."

But her voice cracked at the end. Winn noticed. Of course, he did.

He took another step closer, and she could feel the shift in the air between them—charged, tense, heavy. "You’re scrambling, Ivy," he said quietly. "You always do that when you lie."

"I’m not lying," she insisted. "I don’t owe you every detail of my life anymore, Winn."

"Bullshit," he snapped.

"You got married a month later, Winn. What was I supposed to do—show up and clap for you?"

Finally, he exhaled and dropped his hand. "You think I wanted to marry her?" he said. "You think any of that was about love? I did what I had to. You left me no choice."

"Don’t make it feel like it’s my fault." Ivy crossed her arms over her chest, the defensive stance fooling no one, least of all Winn.

"I’m not," Winn said quietly. "I just want to know when you got back from Newark."

(Yay! 100 power stones. Here is an additional Chapter. Whew! Its been a busy day.)