“…your number?”
Alexander didn’t even turn his head. The dark sunglasses concealed his eyes, but his reaction—or lack of one—was cold. His posture remained relaxed, hands in his pockets, as if the woman were nothing more than passing noise.
Then his head shifted.
His attention slid cleanly over the woman’s shoulder and locked onto Mia. The moment he spotted her, his body subtly straightened.
Without a single word, Alexander stepped past the woman, his shoulder brushing by her as if she were invisible. His focus never wavered from Mia.
The woman’s smile froze. Color rushed to her face as the embarrassment hit. She stiffened, then turned away quickly, hurrying off with her head down.
Alexander closed the distance between them in long, unhurried strides. Before Mia could react, his fingers wrapped around her wrist, and he pulled her toward the car.
“Alexander—what are you—”
He didn’t answer.
The passenger door was open in the next second. His hand pressed at her lower back, guiding her down into the seat with controlled force. The door shut with a solid thud, cutting off her protest. She barely had time to breathe before he was already moving around the car.
When he leaned over her to fasten the seat belt, his presence swallowed her whole. His scent—clean, sharp, unmistakably him—wrapped around her senses. Mia instinctively leaned back, her shoulders pressing into the seat, but his hand came down behind her head, palm planted firmly against the leather. There was nowhere to go.
His other arm slid around her waist, anchoring her in place.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
Alexander tilted his head slightly, a slow, knowing smirk touching his lips. “How about you give me a kiss,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous murmur, “and I’ll tell you.”
He leaned in, his mouth brushing close enough that she could feel his breath against her lips.
Just before his lips touched hers, Mia shoved hard against his chest and turned her face away.
Alexander paused. He drew in a slow breath, then let it slip out through his nose, disappointment written in the small,controlled gesture. Without a word, he leaned back, released her, and returned to the driver’s seat.
The engine came to life, and he drove off in silence.
The quiet inside the car was heavy, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the steady roll of the tires against the road. The tension drained from her body little by little, exhaustion sinking in. Her eyelids grew heavy before she could fight it.
She didn’t even realize when she fell asleep.
Her eyes fluttered open to movement—a gentle rocking, arms holding her securely. Confusion washed over her before reality clicked into place.
Alexander was carrying her.
His arms were locked around her, strong and sure, her cheek pressed against the solid warmth of his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear. The faint scent of his cologne clung to his clothes, familiar and unsettling all at once.
They passed through a doorway.
Her gaze lifted—and her heart dropped.
“Why would you bring me to your house?” she rasped, her voice thick with sleep. As awareness returned, irritation flared sharp and hot. “Mr. Graves, put me down. I don’t want to go to your house.”
She twisted in his arms, pushing weakly at his shoulder, but Alexander only tightened his hold. The muscles in his arms flexed as he carried her farther inside, unbothered.
“Stop,” he warned quietly.
He didn’t release her until they reached the living room.
He set her down on the dining table with unexpected care, positioning her at the edge. Before she could slide away, he stepped between her legs, blocking her in. His hands pressed flat against the table on either side of her hips, his body close, heat radiating toward her.
