Chapter 2 Just Dinner #2
She reached for the car door, wrapped her fingers around the cold metal handle, and pushed it open. Cool air rushed in. But the second her feet touched the ground—
A strong hand locked around her waist.
Before she could react, Alexander yanked her back. Hard.
Mia gasped as she was pulled straight into his lap again, the door still open, the world tilting for a split second. Her hands flew up instinctively, landing on his shoulders to steady herself.
He didn’t give her time to breathe.
His fingers slid up, gripping her jaw firmly, forcing her face toward him—and then his lips crashed against hers in a quick, unapologetic kiss. And then he released her.
Mia pushed off him instantly, scrambling out of the car with sharp, frantic movements. The moment her feet hit the pavement, she whipped her head toward him, eyes blazing as she shot him a glare.
Unaffected, Alexander was already climbing out, but she pivoted on her heel and bolted toward the company building, refusing to give him even a chance to grab her again.
Less than ten minutes later, her phone rang at her desk.
“Lunch delivery for you,” the receptionist said as Mia reached the lobby, holding out a paper bag. “Did you order something?”
Mia shook her head, frowning. “No, I didn’t.” She looked down at the bag—and saw a note clipped to it.
‘Don’t even think about going hungry. Finish this, or after dinner, you’re staying by my side until I know you’ve eaten properly.’
Mia’s jaw tightened, a spark of anger igniting instantly. Only one man would have the audacity to threaten her like this. Her fingers curled around the bag, and she strode back toward her office, every step sharp with irritation.
She ate in silence, seething with each bite.
The day crawled forward, heavy and exhausting. Papers piled on her desk, emails pinged endlessly, and her shoulders ached from tension. Somewhere in the middle of it, she started to miss her old office.
“It really was the dream job,” Mia whispered as she closed her eyes and exhaled under her breath. “I really don’t like working. I want to go home.” A tiny sob threatened to slip out, but she forced a deep breath in and wiped the corner of her eye before it could fall.
There was still one hour left. So she pushed through it—working until the clock finally struck six.
When she stepped outside, she froze.
Alexander stood by his car, arms crossed over his chest, the fading light of evening casting stark shadows across his face. The sky was deepening into indigo, but a faint strip of sunlight lingered behind him, accentuating his sharp silhouette.
‘Has he been waiting for me this whole time?’ Her heart lurched. ‘What does he want? I… I have nothing to give him. Why is he still so relentless?’
As Mia walked closer to the main road, she noticed a woman stepping into Alexander’s space, standing just a little too close. The woman tilted her head, smiling as she spoke to him in a soft, coaxing tone.
When Mia drew nearer, she caught the last few words, breathy and bold.
“…your number?”
Alexander didn’t even turn his head. The dark sunglasses concealed his eyes, but his reaction—or lack of one—was cold. His posture remained relaxed, hands in his pockets, as if the woman were nothing more than passing noise.
Then his head shifted.
His attention slid cleanly over the woman’s shoulder and locked onto Mia. The moment he spotted her, his body subtly straightened.
Without a single word, Alexander stepped past the woman, his shoulder brushing by her as if she were invisible. His focus never wavered from Mia.
The woman’s smile froze. Color rushed to her face as the embarrassment hit. She stiffened, then turned away quickly, hurrying off with her head down.
Alexander closed the distance between them in long, unhurried strides. Before Mia could react, his fingers wrapped around her wrist, and he pulled her toward the car.
“Alexander—what are you—”
He didn’t answer.
The passenger door was open in the next second. His hand pressed at her lower back, guiding her down into the seat with controlled force. The door shut with a solid thud, cutting off her protest. She barely had time to breathe before he was already moving around the car.
When he leaned over her to fasten the seat belt, his presence swallowed her whole.
His scent—clean, sharp, unmistakably him—wrapped around her senses.
Mia instinctively leaned back, her shoulders pressing into the seat, but his hand came down behind her head, palm planted firmly against the leather. There was nowhere to go.
His other arm slid around her waist, anchoring her in place.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
Alexander tilted his head slightly, a slow, knowing smirk touching his lips. “How about you give me a kiss,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous murmur, “and I’ll tell you.”
He leaned in, his mouth brushing close enough that she could feel his breath against her lips.
Just before his lips touched hers, Mia shoved hard against his chest and turned her face away.
Alexander paused. He drew in a slow breath, then let it slip out through his nose, disappointment written in the small, controlled gesture. Without a word, he leaned back, released her, and returned to the driver’s seat.
The engine came to life, and he drove off in silence.
The quiet inside the car was heavy, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the steady roll of the tires against the road. The tension drained from her body little by little, exhaustion sinking in. Her eyelids grew heavy before she could fight it.
She didn’t even realize when she fell asleep.
Her eyes fluttered open to movement—a gentle rocking, arms holding her securely. Confusion washed over her before reality clicked into place.
Alexander was carrying her.
His arms were locked around her, strong and sure, her cheek pressed against the solid warmth of his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear. The faint scent of his cologne clung to his clothes, familiar and unsettling all at once.
They passed through a doorway.
Her gaze lifted—and her heart dropped.
“Why would you bring me to your house?” she rasped, her voice thick with sleep. As awareness returned, irritation flared sharp and hot. “Mr. Graves, put me down. I don’t want to go to your house.”
She twisted in his arms, pushing weakly at his shoulder, but Alexander only tightened his hold. The muscles in his arms flexed as he carried her farther inside, unbothered.
“Stop,” he warned quietly.
He didn’t release her until they reached the living room.
He set her down on the dining table with unexpected care, positioning her at the edge. Before she could slide away, he stepped between her legs, blocking her in. His hands pressed flat against the table on either side of her hips, his body close, heat radiating toward her.
His eyes locked onto hers. They were steady. Serious. Intense.
“I just want to have dinner with you,” he said quietly. “Just dinner. I promise.”