by S. Nelson
“What?”
I repeated my question. “How well do you know that guy?”
“Not well,” he grumped, as if my questions frustrated him. “Divorced. No kids. Moved here from California a couple weeks ago.” Chris slowed his strides. “Funny you should run into him tonight. He usually doesn’t attend these types of events. His words, not mine.”
I caught sight of my father looking in our direction, and when he saw Chris by my side, he smiled. Not an I’m-happy-to-see-my-daughter smile, but an I-knew-you’d-see-reason smile.
I momentarily lost my breath, Max all but forgotten as each step took me closer to erasing a tiny piece of the future I longed for. It wouldn’t be long before my forced engagement would be announced, a public spectacle of sorts.
I could’ve refused my father’s demands, but in doing so, I’d put my passion for helping others in jeopardy. With me as managing partner someday, there would be no telling how much good the firm could do for those in need. He knew that was where my heart was, so he dangled that carrot in front of me so that goal was the only one I could see. In essence, I’d been blinded by it. Besides, my refusal would only cause a rift between us, and I couldn’t afford to lose another parent, no matter how infuriating he could be.
When we were twenty feet from my father, Chris stopped walking and turned to face me, pulling me closer, our hands still tightly joined. Holding his gaze, I tried to come around to the idea of becoming his fiancée, then soon after his wife. So far, I could attest that he was kind, witty, and charismatic, and certainly easy to look at. Why then, when my eyes roamed his features, did an image of Max pop into my head?
“Relax.”
I hated when someone told me to relax. “Stop telling me what to do,” I griped, hating that I sounded like a brat, taking out all my frustrations on Chris rather than on the one person who truly deserved them. The funny thing was, I couldn’t determine if that person was my father or me.
When defeat finally stole my posture, Chris flashed me a sympathetic smile. “Come on. Your father’s waiting.”
That simple statement annoyed me all over again, though admittedly my irritation hadn’t faded fully to begin with. “Oh yes, God forbid we keep the great Randall Winthrop waiting for another second,” I mumbled, snatching my hand from Chris’s and stalking past him. He caught up quickly, matching me stride for stride, even though his legs were much longer.
“What’s wrong with you tonight? You seem off.” I ignored him as I continued to walk ahead. “Alina,” he called out, snatching my elbow before I could put any more distance between us. I finally stopped, shrugging out of his grasp.
“What?” I wasn’t in the mood to entertain his stupid ideals that I had no right to be upset about having my future decided for me.
“Have you been drinking?” he unexpectedly asked.
“Yes.” I swore as soon as I acknowledged it, the alcohol swirled through me. Not to where I slurred my words or wobbled on my feet, but enough where a slight numbness gripped me, allowing me to speak my mind more freely. As if I was immune to any consequences that would occur if I rambled on, or even blatantly caused a scene.
“How much?” He stepped closer, looming over me and suffocating me with his presence. An image of Max bombarded me again, and I suddenly wished it was him demanding answers, no matter how messed up that made me seem.
As soon as the man entered my thoughts, I glanced around the room to try and locate him. Was he still sitting at the bar? Had he left? Was he here with someone and went off to find her? Why did the thought of him with another woman irritate me?
“Only two glasses.”
“Of?”
Huffing, I raised my head and glared at him just in case he thought he could intimidate me with his tone. “Scotch. What’s with the interrogation?”
If I hadn’t been looking at him so intently, I wouldn’t have noticed the quick tic of his jaw. Was he aggravated I’d been drinking scotch, or that I’d consumed any kind of alcohol? Taking a deep breath, he retreated a step and looked like he wanted to chastise me, but instead, he held his tongue. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would’ve let loose on me if we were married, feeling as if he had some sort of control over me.
“I’m not interrogating you. I’m just concerned, that’s all.” His expression softened, and I thought maybe I was reading too much into the situation. Maybe he really was just worried about me. He’d never given me a reason to doubt his intentions before that evening. He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Shall we?”
I took a moment before complying. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Knowing what was to come once we reached my father’s side, I gave in to having my future mapped out for me. Maybe if Chris had been on my side and had tried to talk some sense into my father, I would’ve had a fighting chance, but not when both men were dead set on me becoming Mrs. Chris Harris.
Max
I COULDN’T TAKE my eyes off the stunning creature who’d captured my undivided attention. I’d acted as if I hadn’t known who she was when she sat down next to me, but I’d seen her picture on the firm’s website during my research of my new employer. I was also aware her father was none other than Randall Winthrop, the managing partner, all details I’d left out of our earlier conversation.
As I watched her storm off, the thought of engaging her in an argument again excited me. While twisted, the thrill of the chase, mixed with the back and forth would be exhilarating. I hadn’t come across someone like her in quite some time. She was a challenge; too bad she’d never belong to me. I wasn’t one for going after another man’s woman.
“Sir?” the bartender called. “Would you like another?” He pointed toward my glass, and as much as I would’ve loved to lose myself in another drink, I needed to cut myself off.
“I’m good. Thanks.” The five seconds my focus had been turned away from Alina proved to be five seconds too long. When I looked back across the room, she was gone. Irritation flowed through me, and before I dared to contemplate why, I vacated my seat and slowly strode across the vast space.
Crowds of people blocked my path, but being the new guy at Winthrop, Krueger, and Donn, I knew it was my professional duty to mingle with everyone gathered. If it wasn’t so imperative for me to make a good impression that evening, I would’ve stayed home.
But if I had missed out on the charity event, I would’ve never had the pleasure and intrigue of meeting Alina Winthrop.
Before Harris stole . . . I mean whisked Alina away, he’d mentioned that her father was waiting for them. Curiosity won, and as I finished a meaningless chit-chat session with a couple, whose name I’d already forgotten, my feet propelled me forward until I was but a few paces from the small crowd formed in the far-left corner of the room. From where I stood, I could see Alina’s profile, Harris steadfastly right by her side.
I quietly approached, being sure she hadn’t noticed me as I stood behind her and pretended not to listen.
“So, Alina, your father tells us you’ll be following in his footsteps soon enough. Is that true?” All the men present looked intrigued by the gorgeous woman. I couldn’t say I blamed them.
She dipped her head and closed her eyes, a beat longer than normal. When she looked back at the man who’d asked the question, she answered, “No. I could never follow the likes of my father. His shadow would surely suffocate me.” She chuckled, but the sound was tense, although her audience didn’t seem to notice the strain in her tone. They were all smiles, nodding as if they agreed with her.
“Now, now, sweetheart. You know that’s not true.” Randall Winthrop stepped forward to put his arm around his daughter’s shoulder.
“I’ve taught my daughter well. She’ll do great when I finally step down.” His words were filled with praise, but the edge to his tone was curt, as if he himself had doubts about his daughter’s abilities.
I took a moment to study the man, trying hard to get a better read on him, but it was nearly i
mpossible. I’d never met him in person, my interview and offer being conducted solely with Krueger and Donn, but I’d seen a picture of him.
His short dark hair grayed at the temple, lines of experience and sophistication etched around his eyes, and although he was in his late sixties, he had an otherwise youthful look about him.
Alina flashed the group a tight smile before shrugging away from her father. His face fell but only briefly, the mask I was sure he presented to the public settling back into place rather quickly. “If you’ll excuse me, I need some air.”
“Don’t be too long. We have an announcement to make.” I watched the interaction between them, the tension so thick it made me slightly uncomfortable. Harris chose not to follow her, instead staying fixed to her father’s side.
A minute later, I inconspicuously retreated and headed toward the balcony, my mind reeling with all the things I wanted to say, and not say. I had no idea how our interaction would go, but uncertainty had never stopped me before.
I should have left her alone.
I should have said my goodbyes and left the hotel.
I should have done a lot of things differently that evening, but I ignored my voice of reason and waltzed out into the warm night air.
At first I couldn’t find her, but after another quick scan of the people milling around, all with the same intention of reveling in the beautiful evening’s spring weather, I saw her huddled in the corner.
Her black gown was classy yet dangerous. The material, while covering her completely and making her appear modest, fit her like a glove, accentuating every curve of her lithe body.
It took every ounce of control inside me to not stalk toward her and demand she leave with me.
Promising her a night of unbridled lust.
I would control every breath she took, every spasm her muscles contracted, every blink of her entrancing eyes.
Get ahold of yourself, Colter. My inner chastising should’ve made me flee and leave well enough alone, but I refused to listen to reason, even when coming from myself. It was out of character for me to hold back, my earlier actions proving I loved to push the envelope, but it was different when presented with a real opportunity to be near her.
Switching gears, pushing aside any thoughts of conquering this woman, I settled on a bit of entertainment instead. The event was boring as hell, Alina being the only light of the evening. Some of the people had gone back inside, giving me the opportunity to quietly walk up behind her. I longed to incite the feistiness within her, possibly taking her mind off what was surely bothering her, if only for a moment. Parting my lips to speak, I slammed them shut as soon as I heard her sniffle.
I took a step closer and heard it again. Then I saw her shoulders tremble slightly, and all my plans to verbally play with her went out the window.
Alina
“ARE YOU OKAY?” As soon as the words drifted through the air, I stiffened. An inexplicable shiver rushed through me, and it had nothing to do with the breeze cutting through the fabric of my gown, but instead, everything to do with the silk and gravel of his voice. Max.
“I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine, but the last thing I wanted to do was engage Max in a back and forth, fearing just where our conversation would lead. My whole world felt as if it was going to come crashing down around me very soon, and if I didn’t get my wits about me, I knew the outcome of our exchange would be less than desirable. In what way, I simply had no idea.
Sucking in a strangled breath and wiping the remaining tears from my cheeks, I turned to face him, although I knew the movement was inherently dangerous.
Max was closer than I’d initially thought, and when I turned, my chest brushed against his. His lips parted at the contact, his eyes devouring me before he took a slow step backward.
“You don’t look fine.”
“How would you know? You don’t even know me,” I rebutted. Extending my arms behind me, I gripped the railing to anchor me into place, worried I’d either stumble into him or collapse altogether.
Something about Maxton Colter put me at ease while causing me to ride the edge of apprehension. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but whatever the feeling . . . it made me nervous.
And excited.
“I think I do.” His tone indicated he would brook no argument.
“What do you want, Max?” Even though I wanted to sound affronted by his arrogance, his name tasted delicious on my tongue.
The man before me was quite the contradiction. He looked every part the professional, but his demeanor was predatory. The look in his dark eyes told me I’d be entering dangerous territory if I continued this charade with him.
“If you’re out here to go another round with me, please don’t. I don’t think I can handle it.” I meant every word. I didn’t possess the emotional strength to ward him off if he started talking about having me underneath him.
“I came out here to see if you needed me.” My brows knit together in confusion. He spoke as if we’d known each other for years, as if we were friends. But we were nothing of the sort. We were two strangers, thrown back together because I’d wanted to escape the absurdity of my earlier conversation with my father.
Nothing more.
Being intrigued by this man was the last thing I needed in my life.
Averting my eyes from his intense gaze, I stared at the tips of my pumps peeping out from underneath my gown. “I don’t need you,” I mumbled, still confused as to why he’d followed me out onto the balcony.
“I know we just met, but I feel some sort of draw toward you, and if I’m not mistaken, I believe you feel the same.” I snapped my head up, and the warmth of his breath caressed my face as he stepped closer. The heat from his body scorched me. Had it been a different time and place, if I hadn’t been moments away from publicly announcing my engagement, I would’ve agreed with his straightforward, yet surprising and bold statement.
Was I attracted to Max?
Of course.
Would I acknowledge such a thing?
Never.
“You’re mistaken,” I lied. “I don’t feel anything toward you except anger that you continue to pursue me knowing damn well I’m involved with someone.” A flash of what I read as regret crossed his suddenly hardened expression. With a barely controlled tone, I brushed past him while muttering, “Leave me alone, Max.”
There was barely any space between us when he reached for my wrist to stop me from walking away.
“Don’t,” he implored, the desperation in his voice surprising. Or was I hearing inflections that just weren’t there? Maybe I was hoping there was more to the odd connection between Max and me, more than him simply wanting to spread my legs and rut between them.
My back continued to face him. I knew myself well enough that if I turned around that time and looked into his eyes, I’d want to spend more time alone with him.
Max
DAMMIT! I WASN’T someone who pursued unavailable women, but there was something about Alina that scrambled my brain, making me want to throw caution to the wind and say ridiculous things like, ‘I know we just met, but I feel some sort of draw toward you, and if I’m not mistaken, I believe you feel the same.’
I’d never been so anxious for a woman’s attention before, and while my inner turmoil racked through me, my fingers continued to circle her delicate wrist. The warmth of her skin shook my insides in such a way I barely remembered to breathe.
“Don’t do something you’re going to regret, Alina.” While still holding onto her, I stepped closer so her back was flush with my chest. Leaning down until my lips brushed the shell of her ear, I whispered, “Don’t let other people make decisions for you.”
“Like you’re doing for me right now by not letting me go?”
Her words jolted me back to reality. I released her wrist, but she didn’t move forward like I’d expected. Instead, she remained motionless, continuing to lean back into me. I didn’t think she realized she was doing it, not until t
he one person I truly didn’t want to see right then made an unwanted appearance, strolling through the double doors and out onto the balcony with us.
“Alina, sweetheart, there you are.” Harris walked toward her with purpose. He hadn’t seen me at first, my silhouette shrouded in the shadows, but as he stepped closer, he saw me positioned close behind her. Too close to have been appropriate, and we both knew it.
Throwing me a warning glare, he reached for her hand and pulled her forward. She didn’t falter. She didn’t hesitate. Like a well-trained Stepford wife, she shuffled her feet and followed him back inside, but not before glancing over her shoulder at me one last time.
When our gazes connected, an explosion of confusion and hopelessness swirled behind her green eyes. The look was brief yet poignant.
Mumbling incoherently to myself, I most likely seemed a bit touched in the head, but I didn’t care. I wanted . . . no needed more time with Alina. To do what, I had no idea. I was drifting into unchartered territory, and if I wasn’t careful, I would most surely drown.
Leave her alone. She’s taken. She’s not yours.
Silently repeating this mantra over and over, I stood frozen in place for the next five minutes. Five minutes of wondering what Harris and Alina were talking about, what they could’ve possibly been doing in the darkness of the elongated hallways. I knew she’d never slept with him, but did he steal as many kisses from her as she would allow? The beat of my heart thumped against my chest, the breath from my lungs singeing me as if my insides were ablaze.
What was wrong with me? My annoyance at my odd feelings was what finally drove my feet forward, what caused my eyes to narrow in on the bar at the far end of the room, and what made me drown myself in another drink.
My newfound aloofness lasted all of twenty minutes, fading as soon as I heard her father speak into the microphone. Twisting in my seat, my attention was once again captured by the woman standing in front of the stage, fidgeting and looking as if she was ready to bolt from the room.