IGNITING DESIRE BURNING FOR YOU SERIES

The moment their eyes met, something dangerous ignited.

Callie Morgan had never believed in love at first sight. Lust? Sure. A fleeting pulse of attraction? Absolutely. But what roared to life inside her the moment she laid eyes on him was far more treacherous. It was raw, it was primal-and it was immediate.

He stood across the crowded lobby of the Carlton Hotel, dressed in a crisp black suit that molded to his tall, broad-shouldered frame like it had been stitched by sin itself. His hair was tousled to perfection, dark like espresso, and his jaw was the kind that made women stare too long and forget to breathe. But it was his eyes that undid her. Piercing and dark, like they held secrets no man had any business knowing. He wasn't smiling. He didn't need to. He looked at her like he already knew what she tasted like.

Callie blinked, tried to look away.

She couldn't.

The moment held. A beat too long.

She was here for work-her first luxury event as an independent event planner. The stakes were high, her nerves already rattled, and now this stranger-this devastatingly hot stranger-was looking at her like she was tonight's entertainment.

She sucked in a breath, turning her attention back to her clipboard, praying he didn't walk over.

He did.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice like velvet smoke, low and intimate. "Are you in charge of this event?"

Callie glanced up. Dear God, he smelled good-woodsy, clean, and expensive. She forced herself to stay professional, even as heat coiled in her belly. "Yes. I'm the event planner. Can I help you?"

"I hope so," he said with a smirk that curled the edge of his mouth in a way that was both maddening and irresistible. "I'm looking for the executive suite. I was told to check in here."

She flicked her eyes to his luggage-sleek black leather, monogrammed. "You must be a VIP guest. I can walk you over."

"Appreciated," he said smoothly. "I'm Jace."

Callie hesitated for a second. The name sounded familiar.

She froze. Jace Bennett.

Oh hell. Jace Bennett.

Billionaire investor. The man whose name was attached to half the building projects in the city. The client backed the company that hired her. Her stomach twisted.

And here she was, ogling him like he wasn't forbidden fruit dressed in Armani.

She extended her hand. "Callie Morgan. Welcome to Carlton."

His hand engulfed hers-warm, confident, a slow slide of heat-and lingered for just a second longer than necessary. Her pulse kicked.

He noticed.

"I like the way you say my name," he murmured.

She blinked. "I didn't say it."

"You did. In your head."

She laughed, nervous and breathy, and turned on her heel before she did something ridiculous like melt. "Follow me."

The walk to the elevator was short, but the silence was loaded. Every step next to him was like walking beside a storm about to crack open the sky. He didn't talk. He just watched her, and she felt it-every slow, sweeping glance that skimmed over the curve of her waist, the swing of her hips, the bare skin at the nape of her neck.

She tried to stay cool. Tried.

The elevator doors slid open, and they stepped inside. The moment the doors shut behind them, the tension tripled.

He stepped closer. Not touching-never touching-but close enough she could feel the warmth of his body. Smell his cologne. Imagine things she had no business imagining.

"Is it always this hot in here?" he asked, voice low and lazy.

Her breath hitched. "It's the suit."

"Ah." He glanced down at himself. "Too much?"

"Only if you're trying to kill someone with it."