One Night Stand With The Gigolo

The sapphire-blue gown clung to Arianna Jason's curves like it had been made for her, which of course it hadn't. The designer dress was worth more than three months of her rent, and the delicate fabric felt like it might disintegrate if she breathed too hard. She adjusted the strap for what felt like the hundredth time, her fingers trembling against the cool silk.

"You look like you're about to pass out or punch someone," Lila whispered, appearing at her side with two flutes of champagne. Her best friend and coworker looked effortlessly elegant in her emerald-green gown, her dark curls piled into an artful updo. "Relax. It's just a party."

Arianna accepted the glass with a death grip. "Just a party? Lila, this is the Hudson Foundation's annual charity gala. Half the people here could buy our company with their pocket change."

"And the other half are here to be seen with them," Lila said with a wink. "Which means they're too busy preening to notice you. Now stop fidgeting before you pop a seam on that dress."

Arianna took a gulp of champagne, the bubbles burning down her throat. She didn't belong here. She was only attending because her boss, the senior event planner at Luxe Affairs, had called in sick with food poisoning twenty minutes before they were supposed to leave for the venue. As the junior planner, Arianna had been the obvious last-minute replacement-thrown into a world of crystal chandeliers, million-dollar auction items, and people who thought nothing of dropping five figures on a bottle of wine.

The ballroom of the Hudson Tower was a glittering spectacle. Ice sculptures melted slowly beside towers of champagne flutes, while waiters circulated with silver trays of hors d'oeuvres that probably cost more than her weekly grocery budget. The air smelled like expensive perfume and money.

"Remember," Lila said, squeezing her arm, "we're here to network. Smile, be charming, and if anyone asks, you've been with Luxe for three years, not three months."

Arianna nodded, forcing a smile as Lila drifted off to schmooze with a group of socialites. She took another sip of champagne and began circulating through the crowd, offering polite nods to strangers.

Then she saw him.

Jace Hudson stood near the auction stage, his imposing frame commanding attention even in a room full of powerful people. The media portrayed him as a ruthless businessman-the self-made billionaire who'd taken his family's failing empire and turned it into a global powerhouse. In person, he was even more intimidating.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he'd run an impatient hand through it, he exuded an aura of controlled power. His sharp jawline was set in what looked like permanent disapproval, and his ice-blue eyes scanned the room like a predator assessing prey.

Arianna quickly looked away before he could catch her staring, but not before noticing how his presence seemed to create an invisible radius around him-people hovered nearby, desperate for his attention, but no one dared approach too closely.

She turned to escape toward the buffet table when a booming voice came over the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the twenty-fifth annual Hudson Foundation Charity Gala."

The crowd quieted as an older man-presumably Jace's father-took the stage. Arianna half-listened to the speech about charitable initiatives and corporate responsibility while subtly scanning the room for potential clients.

"-and now, I'll turn things over to my son, Jace Hudson, who has some exciting news about our expansion into-"

A sudden burst of feedback from the microphone cut him off. Jace strode onto the stage with the confidence of someone who'd never doubted his place in the world. He adjusted the mic with one hand while the other rested casually in his pocket.

"Thank you," he said, his deep voice resonating through the ballroom. "As my father mentioned, we're proud to announce-"

Another screech of feedback. Jace's jaw tightened visibly.

A technician rushed forward, fumbling with the equipment. The delay stretched awkwardly.

From her spot near the stage, Arianna could see the exact moment Jace's patience snapped. His fingers flexed once against the microphone stand before he stepped back and fixed the technician with a glare that could melt steel.

"Fix it," he said, just loud enough for those nearby to hear. The technician paled and scrambled to adjust the controls.

Arianna shouldn't have found it amusing-she knew firsthand how stressful live events could be-but something about the way this billionaire couldn't handle a few seconds of technical difficulties made her lips twitch.

The microphone stabilized, and Jace continued his speech without missing a beat, as if the interruption had never happened. His words were polished, his delivery flawless, but Arianna couldn't unsee that flash of irritation. For all his power and wealth, Jace Hudson was apparently as human as anyone else when things didn't go his way.

The thought made her bold.

As the speech ended and the crowd broke into applause, Arianna found herself moving toward the stage instead of away from it. She wasn't sure what she intended to do-maybe just get a closer look at the man who seemed to fascinate and annoy her in equal measure.

She didn't notice the waiter carrying a tray of champagne until it was too late.

The collision sent her stumbling forward, her borrowed heels slipping on the polished marble floor. She barely managed to catch herself before face-planting at the base of the stage-right at Jace Hudson's feet.

Silence fell around them.

Arianna's cheeks burned as she straightened, smoothing her dress with trembling hands. The waiter was already apologizing profusely, but Jace's attention was fixed solely on her.