The CEO’s Unspoken Love (Eleanor and Derek) novel Chapter 135

Chapter 135

Eleanor POV

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the lock.

Why was he here? I’d made myself clear-space, distance, a clean break. Yet, there he was, uninvited, as always. With a sigh, I steeled myself and opened the door, the cold air rushing in with him as he stepped forward, a small, elegant box clutched in his gloved hand. His eyes, those piercing blue-gray depths, met mine with an intensity I couldn’t ignore, though I tried.

“Eleanor,” he said, his voice low, almost rough, as if he’d been battling the cold-or something else-for too long. “May I come in?”

I crossed my arms, the weight of exhaustion settling over me like a shroud. “Derek, I’ve asked for space. I meant it. I need to live my own life.” My words came out firm, though my voice trembled at the edges, betraying the fatigue I couldn’t hide.

Despite that, I let him in and closed the door behind him.

His jaw tightened, and I saw a flash of something raw-jealousy, perhaps, or suppressed anger-flicker across his face. He took a step closer, saying, “So, other men can just waltz into your private space, celebrate your birthday, even kiss you, but I’m the one who’s supposed to stay away?” His tone was sharp, cutting through the winter air, each word laced with a bitterness I hadn’t

expected.

I froze, my mind racing. He’d seen me with James. He must have been watching, following us all the way to my door. The realization sent a shiver down my spine, not entirely from the cold. My voice turned icy, sharp enough to match his. “This is none of your business, Derek. James is gone now, and so should you be. Why are you really here?”

He didn’t flinch, but his gaze softened, just for a moment, as he held up the small box. “I came to give you something. For your birthday.” There was a rare gentleness in his tone, a crack in the armor of his usual detachment, but his eyes still held a storm of unspoken things.

A birthday gift. The words hit me like a wave, unexpected and disorienting. In all our years of marriage, Derek had never once acknowledged my birthday with more than a passing nod, if even that. I stared at the box, my heart a tangled mess of disbelief and

wariness.

“A gift,” I echoed, my voice flat as I reached out to take it, my fingers brushing against the cold leather of his glove. I opened it to reveal a sapphire necklace, its deep blue gem catching the light from the hallway, exquisite and heartbreakingly beautiful. It was the kind of gift that spoke of thought, of care-things I’d never associated with Derek. I forced a polite smile, my throat tight. “Thank you. It’s lovely. You’ve delivered it now, so you can go.”

But he didn’t move. Instead, his gaze locked on mine, resolute. “Let me put it on for you.” It wasn’t a request, not really. His tone carried that quiet authority I knew too well, the kind that brooked no argument.

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the box. Every instinct screamed to refuse, to let him go and end this intrusion. But something in his expression-some unreadable mix of determination and vulnerability-made me relent. With a sigh, I stepped back, shedding my scarf and coat to reveal the simple sweater beneath, my neck exposed to the cool air of the room. “Fine. Make it

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Chapter 135

quick.”

He moved behind me, his presence a tangible weight even without touch. I stood rigid, hyper-aware of every sound-the shuffle of his coat as he adjusted his stance, the faint rustle of the necklace as he lifted it from the box.

Then, his fingers brushed against the nape of my neck, deliberate and slow, as he fastened the clasp. A shiver ran through me, unbidden, as his breath grazed my skin, warm against the chill. I could feel my pulse quicken, my body betraying me with a reaction I couldn’t control. I hated it. Hated how he could still do this to me, after everything.

“There,” he murmured, his voice closer than I expected, sending another jolt through me. I stepped away quickly, turning to face him, my cheeks flushed despite my best efforts to remain composed.

“Does it look okay?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended, almost a whisper. A foolish question, born of a moment’s weakness

He moved in front of me, his eyes tracing the necklace before lifting to my face, lingering on my lips. “It looks perfect,” he said, his voice a low rumble, heavy with something I didn’t want to name.

Before I could step back, before I could think, he closed the distance between us. His lips crashed into mine, fierce and unyielding, a kiss that spoke of possession and pent-up longing. I stiffened, my hands pressing against his chest in protest, but the heat of him, the familiar taste of him, overwhelmed my senses. My resistance faltered. My body remembered -oh, how it remembered the fire that had always simmered between us, a blaze James’s gentle touch had never ignited. My heart pounded, a traitor to my mind, as I

melted into the kiss, if only for a moment.

We parted, breathless, the air between us charged with a dangerous electricity. His forehead rested against mine, his breath ragged, and then he leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “Did James ever make you feel like this?” His voice was a growl, laced with raw need, a question that cut through the fog in my mind..

Tell me, Eleanor. Tell me, he whispered.

I looked at his eyes, my chest heaving, my thoughts a chaotic storm. I knew the answer. I’d felt nothing with James like this consuming, reckless pull. But I wouldn’t give Derek the satisfaction of hearing it. “Shut up,” I gasped, my voice trembling with anger and something else-something I refused to acknowledge. And then, against every shred of logic, I kissed him again, my hands gripping his coat as if it were the only thing anchoring me.

It was madness. Pure, unadulterated madness.

The heat of his mouth, the strength of his arms as they tightened around me, ignited something primal, something I’d buried deep. My legs moved of their own accord, wrapping around his waist as he lifted me effortlessly, his hands firm and possessive. We stumbled, lips still locked, as he carried me toward the stairs, each step a silent agreement to cross a line we’d drawn and redrawn a

hundred times.

I didn’t think I couldn’t Not with the fire raging between us, not with the way his touch burned away the cold I’d carried for so long We reached the top of the stairs, the door to my bedroom looming ahead, and I knew-some distant, rational part of me knew that this was a mistake. But in that moment, with Derek’s breath hot against my skin and my heart racing like it might shatter, I

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The CEO’s Unspoken Love