Billionaire's Hidden Desire**

Chapter 5: The Spark of Paris

The soft glow of Parisian streetlights bathed Ivy and Lucien in a golden hue as they walked back to their hotel, their conversation lingering on the success of the day’s meeting. Ivy’s laughter filled the air as Lucien recounted a charming mishap from his early days in business—a side of him she hadn’t seen before. It was a warm, unguarded moment that made him seem more human, more real.

As they approached the grand entrance of their hotel, Lucien paused, his hand gently grazing Ivy’s elbow to stop her. His touch was brief but electrifying, sending a tingle up her arm. Ivy turned to face him, her heart racing slightly faster, the anticipation of the unspoken moment thick between them.

“Paris suits you,” Lucien said, his voice low and thoughtful. His gaze was intense, locked onto hers, and Ivy felt a flutter in her chest, an undeniable pull that made her want to close the distance between them.

“It’s a beautiful city,” Ivy replied, her voice soft, almost breathless. “I can see why you come here so often.”

Lucien’s lips curled into a faint smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes, a quiet storm brewing that Ivy couldn’t quite decipher. “Paris is more than just a city to me. It’s... a place where things happen, where decisions are made, and sometimes where unexpected connections are found.”

Ivy’s breath caught at the last part, her mind racing to read between the lines. The intensity in Lucien’s gaze felt like a magnet, drawing her in, making her acutely aware of the tension simmering just beneath the surface.

They stood there for a moment, the bustling sounds of the Parisian night fading into the background. Lucien’s hand, still lightly resting on her elbow, was a reminder of his presence, of the connection that had been growing between them since the start of the project. It was intoxicating, this mix of professional respect and a burgeoning personal attraction that neither of them had openly acknowledged—until now.

“Would you like to see the view from the rooftop?” Lucien asked, his voice suddenly quieter, more intimate. “It’s breathtaking at night.”

Ivy hesitated for only a split second before nodding. “I’d love to.”

They took the private elevator up to the rooftop, a secluded terrace reserved for the hotel’s most exclusive guests. As the doors opened, Ivy was greeted by a panoramic view of Paris that took her breath away. The Eiffel Tower stood illuminated in the distance, its lights twinkling like a beacon against the night sky.

Lucien led her to the edge of the terrace, his hand briefly resting on the small of her back, guiding her forward. Ivy’s pulse quickened at the touch, her senses heightened by the nearness of him. She leaned against the railing, her eyes drinking in the city’s beauty, but her mind was acutely aware of Lucien beside her.

“It’s stunning,” Ivy whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle breeze.

“It is,” Lucien agreed, though his eyes weren’t on the city; they were on her. Ivy could feel his gaze, heavy and lingering, and when she turned to meet it, the air between them crackled with an unspoken electricity.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Lucien’s eyes searched hers, and Ivy felt herself being drawn into the depths of his gaze, losing herself in the quiet intensity that seemed to envelop them. It was as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them, standing on that rooftop, surrounded by the glittering city below.

“Ivy,” Lucien said softly, his voice breaking the silence. He reached out, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face, his touch gentle and deliberate. Ivy’s breath hitched, her skin tingling where his fingers had been. The gesture was intimate, lingering just on the edge of something more, something Ivy wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

“Lucien…” Ivy began, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words. But before she could say anything else, Lucien stepped closer, his hand cupping her cheek with a tenderness that made her heart skip a beat.

“Ivy,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion. “I can’t pretend anymore.”

The admission hung in the air, a confession that sent a thrill down Ivy’s spine. She looked up at him, her resolve wavering as the tension between them reached a breaking point. Lucien’s thumb brushed lightly across her cheek, and Ivy felt herself leaning into his touch, her own desire rising to meet his.

“We’ve been dancing around this for too long,” Lucien continued, his face inching closer to hers. Ivy’s breath mingled with his, their proximity sending her senses into overdrive. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the pull of his presence so strong it was almost impossible to resist.

“I’ve been trying to keep things professional,” Ivy whispered, her voice barely audible. “But it’s hard… when you look at me like that.”

Lucien’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “I know,” he said, his voice soft but filled with a determination that made Ivy’s pulse race. “I’ve been doing the same. But sometimes… sometimes, Ivy, you just have to take a chance.”

Without giving herself a moment to overthink, Ivy closed the gap between them, her lips meeting Lucien’s in a kiss that was slow, exploratory, but charged with the weight of everything they hadn’t said. Lucien responded immediately, his hand sliding into her hair, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss.

Ivy’s senses were overwhelmed—by the feel of Lucien’s mouth against hers, the taste of him, the way his hands held her as if he never wanted to let go. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of pent-up desire, and Ivy found herself surrendering to it completely. She pressed closer, her arms wrapping around Lucien’s neck as she let herself get lost in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. Ivy’s heart was pounding, her mind spinning with the implications of what had just happened. Lucien’s eyes searched hers, his expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve.

“I don’t regret that,” Lucien said quietly, his voice firm. “Not for a second.”

“Neither do I,” Ivy replied, her voice soft but sure. “But where does this leave us?”

Lucien brushed a thumb over her bottom lip, his touch sending a shiver through her. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his honesty disarming. “But I do know that I don’t want this to be the last time.”

Ivy smiled, a warmth spreading through her at his words. “Me neither.”

They stood there for a moment longer, savoring the shared intimacy before eventually pulling away. As they made their way back to their respective rooms, Ivy’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The kiss had changed everything, and she knew that whatever happened next, there was no going back to the way things were.

As Ivy lay in bed that night, the image of Lucien’s eyes, dark and intense, lingered in her mind. She knew they had crossed a line, but for the first time, she didn’t feel the need to draw it back. For now, she was content to savor the memory of that rooftop kiss, the promise of what could be, and the thrill of the unknown that awaited them both.