Chapter 1 - The Gala Mistake #2
My heart stops. He’s the mystery guy?
He looks out over the crowd… and his gaze lands on me.
Slow. Sure. Like he already knew.
I’ve never really been a delusional person.
I’ve always lived my life according to facts and realism.
But if I’m deluded into thinking about the explanation of why Alexander’s turn was sold to me automatically when it was supposed to be to the highest bidder, it would be because Alexander himself wanted this to happen.
Because he did this.
Jas grabs my shoulders, an overly excited look brightening her features. “Did what I think just happened, really just happen?”
“What?” I ask, but the word stays stuck in my throat because Alexander smiles at me.
All eyes turn to the direction of his very targeted smile and I instantly want to melt into the floor.
The MC gestures for me to join him.
I’m an unmoving being until Jas pushes me forward. “You got this.”
I don’t actually. Jesus.
But I go anyway, because there’s no escaping now.
The rest of the auction goes by in a blur.
Or maybe it’s because I’ve been unable to remain calm since I was called up to the stage to join Alex four bids ago.
It’s practically impossible to ignore his steady presence beside me, the gentle heat rolling off his body and his expensive, citrusy-smelling cologne wafting into my nostrils.
After the last auction, all the couples are directed to the dance floor to claim their winning dance.
Alexander extends his hand and I become nervous again. I’m not sure why I’m this nervous. He’s always been an attractive man. Anyone with working eyes can see and acknowledge that. But I’ve always been so caught up in his brother that I hadn’t realize just how much of a man he is.
“Shall we?”
I nod, because words are useless.
We walk into the spotlight together as the music begins to play.
The band eases into a slow, sultry tune that doesn’t exactly belong at a corporate gala, but comically fits the tension humming between us perfectly.
Alexander’s hand slides around my waist like it belongs there, his other hand capturing mine with infuriating ease.
He spins me around before tugging me towards him, his hand firm against my lower back as he presses my body flush against his. He bows, lowering me until the heat of his breath scalds my lips. And he does all this without taking his eyes off me for even a second.
I swallow and clear my throat, before murmuring. “A little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“And you make a stunning mistake,” he murmurs back just as I accidentally step on his toes. I cringe so hard my stomach caves in. “Best one I’ve seen all night.”
My stomach flips again, and not just because he’s a good dancer.
He’s close—too close. His eyes are a clear, crystal green.
They always look so hard and focused at work but now, they’re the most relaxed I’ve ever seen them.
Yet, the intensity shimmering in them can’t be hidden.
Every step he takes guides me effortlessly across the floor.
“You planned this,” I say.
He raises a brow. “You think I orchestrated being auctioned like a vacation timeshare to end up slow-dancing with my assistant?”
“You tell me.”
His mouth twitches. “Let’s just say I don’t mind how it worked out.”
The way he’s looking at me—intense, unreadable—makes it hard to breathe. I glance away, trying to keep my expression neutral.
“People are watching,” I murmur.
“Then we should give them something to talk about.”
His words, said so casually, send heat coursing through me.
He tightens his hold just enough to pull me fractionally closer, before he places my arms around his neck.
I have to mentally remind myself that he’s my boss and I’m his assistant as we move like we’ve done this a hundred times. Like we fit.
He’s not just my boss but my ex’s older brother. The walking HR violation I can’t stop thinking about.
His thumb brushes over the back of my hand, slow and deliberate. I feel it all the way down to my toes.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” I whisper.
“Only if I lose,” he says.
The music slows and my pulse races.
Alexander leans in, lips near my ear.
“Come with me,” he murmurs. “Five minutes.”
“Why?” I manage.
He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes. “So I can do this without an audience.”
And then he leads me off the floor, toward the balcony doors, without waiting for permission.
Every eye is on us, but I only feel him.
The moment the doors shut behind us, he turns.
His gaze drops to my lips.
He hesitates for a beat, and so do I—just long enough for the air between us to charge like a held breath before a storm. My heart hammers against my ribs, my lungs forget how to work, and for the briefest second, I see it all: the mess, the risk, the fallout.
And then he kisses me.
Not softly. Not carefully.
It’s heat and promise and possession.
I forget the gala.
I forget my rules.
I just feel.
And everything tilts.
Thank you for reading!