Elias' POV

Like a giddy child eager to show off the secret hideout they discovered, I lead Clark to the edge of the property.

When I stumbled upon this secluded spot by the river earlier today after leaving one of my solo workshops, I knew I had to share it with him.

"Okay, so hear me out." As we approach the water's edge, I turn to Clark with a bashful smile. "With everything you've got going on, I think it'd help a lot for you to relax and unwind for a bit. So I came up with this." I gesture to the water. "What do you say?"

Clark looks past me and at the river, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I say I never do stuff like this."

Of course he doesn't. That office of his is probably his second home. I can't help but laugh as I pull my shirt over my head.

"What? You mean you never jumped in a random river you just found? Really?"

"Exactly," he chuckles. "I can be impulsive at times, but not like this."

"You just have to trust the process. I would never steer you wrong." I wink at him, not missing the way his eyes drink me in while I strip down to my underwear. "So bend over and take the stick out of your ass and join me in the water!"

I take a running start and launch myself into the river. The warm water envelops me completely, and I surface seconds later with a goofy grin.

"The water feels amazing!" I call out. "You told me you can swim, so there's literally no excuse."

He mumbles something under his breath while playfully rolling his eyes. I watch as he undresses down to his underwear, my mouth watering at the sight of his fit body. The v-cut leading into his boxers is proof enough that he works out like he said he did. I sink lower in the water to hide my blush as he wades into the river with way more caution than I used.

"So, when exactly does the relaxing part start?" He swims to me with a smile that makes my weak ass heart skip several beats. "Because this is actually using up a lot of energy."

"You can't force it, man. You just have to let it happen." I swim around him in slow, lazy circles, his eyes following my movements. "I am curious about something, though."

"What?"

"After you get Ava on board, then what happens?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's next for the great Clark Ashford?" I ask, genuinely interested. "You've been going hard to save your company, but what happens after that? More work? A vacation?"

He tilts his head back and looks up at the sky. The sun's golden rays caress his face in a way I wish I could, making him look almost ethereal. There's no part of him that I wouldn't devour.

"I don't know. Keep working, keep making money. Same old thing." He sighs, and I take the hint to move away from business talk. "What about you?" He brings his eyes back to mine, his expression softening. "What's next after you end your star role of pretending to be my boyfriend?"

I laugh. "This won't happen anytime soon, but I really want to open another flower shop. You know, keep growing the family business."

"Sounds like a great idea."

"For now, anyway. So if you ever need flowers for a special occasion or whatever, stop by Flowers by Elodie! We'll hook you up with something pretty and affordable."

"Do I get a discount for being close with the owner?" he teases, floating closer. I try not to react when our legs brush against each other, tiny sparks of electricity making my heart rate pick up.

"Absolutely..." I pause, barely maintaining my composure because his 'close' can mean a million different things. Close as friends? Business partners? Or something else? "...not."

"Fair enough." He laughs and pulls away, putting distance between us again.

Our conversation drifts to other topics, and I can't help but wish that this moment could last forever. Well, maybe not forever. But longer than the remaining days we have left here.

Clark is just so different from the other people I've had in my life, and it's not because he's a billionaire. It's the magnetic aura surrounding him, something I'm guessing many don't catch at first glance because of all the walls he has up. Little by little, they've been coming down for me.

And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious to see how he acts when completely unguarded.

"You know, we've been getting a lot of compliments on our chemistry. You think I should look into acting after this?" I joke. "The extra income would be nice."

"I guess we do make a pretty convincing couple." Clark chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.

"We do." Emboldened by his words, I swim closer to him. "Speaking of, let's get into the real tea. Say none of this was fake, and we were actually a couple madly in love. Describe your ideal partner? What's your type?"

"My type?" He pauses, considering his answer. "It's cliche as hell, but honestly, you just have to be a good person. And attractive, of course. I'll admit looks do matter."

"Oh, that reminds me..." I smirk, inching even closer. "You told me I check a lot of boxes."

"You do. So?"

I know I shouldn't push this. I know I'm treading on dangerous ground, but fuck, I can't help myself when it comes to this man. "So what are the boxes that I clear for you? Be specific."

"You haven't Googled me enough by now to see the people that I used to fool around with?"

"I mean, I tried, but it's not like you flaunted everyone you dated. I could barely find anything juicy. Even the blogs were dry as hell and had no gossip or pictures. Your team is thorough."

"With as much money as I pay them, they'd better be." He laughs, and instead of answering my question, he turns it back on me. "What's your type? If we weren't here doing what we're doing, would you normally go for someone like me?"

"I...don't want to be rude."

"Please do."

"Well, at first glance, honestly, you looked like every other bougie white man with money." I laugh when he makes a face of mock offense. "I'm just saying! In real life, outside of this charade, I definitely wouldn't approach you first."

"But now that we've gotten to know each other, what's your take?"

"I'd date you for real. No question about it."

Silence falls between us.

Slowly, almost tentatively, Clark's hands find my waist beneath the water, pulling me flush against him. The butterflies go to war in my stomach again, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to not get hard.

"This is getting more and more dangerous, Elias," he whispers, his breath ghosting across my lips. "So very dangerous."

"What is?" My pulse races as I bring my arms up to rest on his shoulders, temptation winning over rational thought. "Tell me."

"You already know the answer." He leans in closer, like he's really going to kiss me this time, so close I can see the tiny flecks of honey sparkling in his green eyes. "Us."

"Sure you're not reading too much into all this? We've been good at faking it," I murmur, but the words sound hollow even to my ears. Clark says nothing in response. His eyes are focused on mine. Unrelenting. He clearly knows I'm full of shit, yet he doesn't call me out on it.

Do it. Kiss him...

His lips are just inches from mine, so close I can almost taste him.

Wait, don't do it! You can't kiss him. Back the hell off!

I should. Because what if the kiss ruins everything between us? What if he regrets it afterward and then pushes me away for the rest of the week? Or worse, makes us leave early?

Then again, what if he doesn't? What if this is exactly what the universe wants us to do?

"Elias."

"Clark."

He growls and closes his eyes, resting his forehead against mine. "You feel it too, right?" he asks, voice pained. "Please tell me you feel it too."

"Yeah," I admit hoarsely. Nothing ever felt this right or this wrong at the same time. "I feel it."

Just as the tension between us reaches a boiling point, his grip tightening on my hips, the sound of an approaching vehicle immediately bursts the bubble we'd been hiding in.

"Hey!" We spring apart, startled, as an old woman driving a utility vehicle comes into view. She's waving a hand at us, yelling frantically, "You can't swim in there! Get out, both of you!"

"Shit. Must be the groundskeeper or something," Clark mutters, glancing in her direction. "She looks like she means business."

"Yeah, let's get out before she tries to jump in and throw hands," I joke.

We quickly make our way out of the water, stifling our laughter. The old woman reaches into a compartment and tosses us two towels before driving off without another word.

"That wasn't awkward at all," I mutter while drying off, trying to keep the mood light. Too bad my voice comes out a little too high, my emotions still on a rollercoaster ride.

Before Clark can respond, his cell phone rings from inside his pants on the ground. I watch as he retrieves it, the carefree expression on his face now transforming into one of cold seriousness as he answers the call.

"What now?" He snaps at the caller before stepping a few feet away from me.

I guess playtime is over.

As I finish getting dressed, I strain to hear what he's saying because his voice is too low. My thoughts continue to spiral. Is someone hurt? Did his company lose another investor? Is he getting trashed in the press? For a man like him, his problems are endless.

When he finally does end the call, the stress that had previously left his body while we were in the water comes rushing back. I can actually see him change in front of me. He clenches his jaw, his arms stiffening as he takes a second to rub his temples in a clear sign of frustration.

Watching him switch so easily into office mode, his mood darkening in an instant, is nothing but an unfriendly reminder that Clark comes from a world where business always comes first. Where his responsibilities can never truly be put on the back burner. It's a reminder that I can't keep letting my guard down like this. We can't keep letting our guards down.

The flirty banter, the almost-kisses, the fire brewing between us that we can't seem to extinguish...it has to stop. I have to do better. Because if we cross that line and give in to our attraction, there's no going back. Not for me, anyway.

And as much as I want to lose myself in Clark Ashford, I'm not quite ready to roll the dice on whether I'll end up with a broken heart afterward.

"Ready to head back?" I speak up after he has all his clothes back on, his fingers steadily typing away on his phone. "Work troubles?"

"Yes and no." He gives me nothing more as he takes the lead back to the main building.

We walk back to our room in silence, the earlier mischievousness long gone. I'm worried about him, but I don't ask for details about the phone call; it's clear from his demeanor that whoever called didn't deliver any good news, and I don't want to make things worse by prying.

He looks so damn miserable. I wish I could at least hold his hand.

When we reach our room, Clark heads straight for the bathroom. I shut the bedroom door behind me and hover by the bed, torn between wanting to rush into the bathroom and comfort him, but also knowing I need to maintain some professional distance. Like, a lot.

If he really needs me, he'll say something. So I decide against checking on him. I tell myself that it's for the best, that I should stay put and mind my business.

That being alone right now is probably what he wants.