Blind to Everyone But Her

Chapter 3 – Close Quarters

The morning light spilled into Leah’s room, warm and deceptive. Outside, the olive trees whispered in the wind, a gentle contrast to the storm brewing in her chest.

She hadn’t slept well. Every creak of the estate, every distant footstep made her heart jump. And, she realized, it wasn’t fear of the job that unsettled her. It was him—Eli Moretti.

Breakfast was quiet. She carried her tray into the dining room, trying not to notice the way he was already seated, hands folded, head tilted slightly as if he could sense every movement in the room.

“You’ve been awake long?” he asked, voice calm but probing.

“Not long,” she replied, placing the tray carefully on the table.

He tilted his head again, detecting something. “Your pulse is elevated.”

Leah stiffened. “I just walked faster than usual.”

“No.” He tapped the table lightly with two fingers. “Something else. You’re hiding tension.”

She met his words with silence. She had learned quickly that arguing with Eli was pointless.

After breakfast, he needed her to guide him through the olive orchards. He walked with his cane, but Leah’s proximity was unavoidable. Every step, every turn, every hand brushing against a branch or railing brought her closer to him. And every time she reached for his arm, a jolt of awareness ran through her.

“Stop stepping like that,” he said suddenly, his voice sharper than usual. “Your foot placement is predictable.”

“I’m trying to—” she began.

“Don’t explain. Move differently next time,” he interrupted. “And keep your hands steady.”

Her fingers trembled slightly as she guided him past a low-hanging branch. He noticed, of course.

“You flinch too easily,” he said quietly.

Leah’s stomach tightened. “I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” he countered softly. “And yet, you stay.”

A pause. Then, almost to himself, he murmured, “Good.”

They reached a small stone fountain in the center of the estate, water trickling calmly. Leah set down the basket she carried.

He stopped. Close. Too close. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, the faint scent of his cologne—wood and something darker, richer. He didn’t need to see her to command her attention.

“Your heart beats faster around me,” Eli said. His hand hovered near her arm—just barely brushing the sleeve. “Why?”

Leah swallowed. “It’s the estate… the responsibility… your expectations…”

He stepped closer, until the air between them was heavy, almost tangible. “No,” he corrected. “It’s me.”

Her breath hitched. She had no words. She could feel the subtle shift in his posture—the quiet dominance, the control that didn’t need eyes to assert itself.

Finally, he took a step back, releasing the invisible pressure. “Keep guiding me,” he said. “But know this—you are noticed. Every movement, every hesitation. I see more than you think.”

Leah’s fingers lingered on the basket as if to steady herself. Her chest ached, her pulse racing. She wanted to turn, to escape the intensity of his gaze, but some part of her—a part she didn’t understand yet—wanted to stay.

Eli’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Do not misunderstand me. I am not kind. I am not gentle with anyone. But you… you are different.”

Leah’s knees felt weak.

Different. Dangerous. And completely irresistible.

She realized, with a mix of fear and something far more complicated, that she could not avoid him. Not here. Not ever.

And maybe she didn’t want to.