Betrayal in His Arms

drops scatter reflections across marble; champagne flutes lift and fall with

nters through t

ows him but keeps their distance; he doesn't need guards to announce him. The cut of his suit, the stillness of h

cans faces-senators, bankers, heirs, women dressed like promises-and registe

n stands there, small, curved, self-contained. Her dress glows under the chandeliers like a flare in mist. Sh

pens. He alters cou

she finally spots him, she understands the stories: the billionaire who built an empire on silence and fear; the man her handle

lady can actually fall for him at first sight. He looks better

tters to herself, "control

beside her. "Ch

t drink and lifts it to he

the movement of air-conditioning vents. Details record themselves without effort: the scent o

ane," h

Mr. Steele. I'm surpr

s that interrupt

ndshake is brief; contact is a spark contai

g to this circle

'm lost," she

ou don't l

t's more like observation disguised as inter

alcony. "Walk with me. T

long enough to seem re

a mosaic of light reflected on the

nd on the railing, gaze sliding over the s

a distance," Isabella

idering her profile. "Y

Mr Steele." She says i

nally I pref

her lips. He's testin

quieter note: She i

ten but to study. "What brings

planning. I fill space wi

y." His tone doesn't f

"And you? Do you fil

hang. "Owning is ea

ear, unaware the motion draws his eyes to her throat. H

he quartet ends its piece. A

"You don't like be

she wasn't expecting it "Hmm .... Not exactl

ld be dan

d ignori

at never quite reaches his

llows them again. Adrian leads her toward

oft

night, y

ow number, strings low and deliberate. Their bodie

creetly. Rumor star

ed. "Wow! You command rooms the

or should I call it a par

hen trying to get her focus back without looking worried or better still bef

ersat

ou're w

, this time closer.

To onlookers they are elegant, nothing more. But their thoughts run

n's hand lingers at her waist a hear

he says. "For

y," she replies. "Mor

ved something

ead, polite. "Good

w," he

she feels a lot of eyes in that moment are on her back

ief, appears beside him

t yet, but

voice low. "Wan

he exit where she disa

he soft slide of elevator doors, the faint buzz of phones that never stop vibrat

ash; no one pays attention to another beautifu

tinted glass. Neon blee

ade co

her earpiece is

der her breath

ribe

ismatic. He looks at people like

n you have to break. Don't

car except for the pulse in her ears. She exhales, slow. I won't