Chapter 1
Xander
The black dress clings to her like a secret, elegant and dangerous in equal measures. Every curve it reveals is a temptation—and yet, there’s nothing overt about the way she carries herself.
Present.
Unbothered.
Unreachable.
“I wondered why you invited her.” Cal, my friend and partner at Merged, a company I co-own, elbows me.
It’s not a question; it’s a statement, like he has some inside knowledge I don’t really care about.
“Enlighten me.” I glare at him, annoyed by the interruption. Grateful for it at the same time, because what the fuck am I doing?
“She’s not interested.” He chuckles. “I know that is a tough pill to swallow, but remember, she’s my wife’s best friend.”
“She came with me.” I shrug. Though I know she accepted my invitation because her best friends are here, including Cal’s wife, Celeste.
She didn’t say yes becauseIinvited her. It’s not exactly a rejection, but it still feels like one, especially since Cal is right, and she is so obviously not interested in me.
She’s just happy to be out. Her lack of interest probably got me to invite her to this gala.
She is here with me, but she doesn’t see me. Not really. Not the way most women do.
She’s completely immune. It makes me feel… something. I love that about her. And I hate that I do.
Because it means I’ll have to win her attention. And I always win.
I should be working the room, though.
Shaking hands. Making deals. Nurturing connections to strengthen the empire I’m building. This room is a chessboard of opportunity—and I’m the kind of man who plays to win.
She laughs. Enjoys herself with abandon. Cora Winslow is a woman who doesn’t perform for anyone. She simply is. And that presence? It’s compelling. It’s real.
So fucking real, I almost can’t believe it.
No one in my life is this genuine.
I’m not a romantic. I don’t seek relationships, but I would wine and dine this woman just to catch some of that uncensored freedom from her by association.
I leave Cal and approach her with her friends.
Her laugh—low, unrestrained, utterly unself-conscious—punches me square in the solar plexus. I’ve heard women laugh like they’re performing joy. Hers? It wraps around me before I can decide if I want to chase it or drown in it.
“May I have this dance?” I wink, and Cora narrows her eyes.
She gives her drink to Celeste and straightens up. “Okay, Stone, you got me to this glamorous event; the least I can do is accept. Let’s dance.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dancing.” Celeste smirks at me.
We get to the dance floor and… well, dance.
Cora glides across the floor, luminous and completely present, as if the world exists for no other reason than this moment.
There’s no calculation in her smile. No desperation in her eyes. No hidden agenda. No points to score.
