“Excuse me.” An older gentleman smiled her way as he slowly walked past.
Returning the gesture, she met his gaze with a small grin of her own. His aged eyes lingered a bit too long for her comfort, and Alex released a breath of relief when someone else called out the man’s name.
“William, come look at this one, darling.” A woman with streaks of silver in her long, otherwise dark hair motioned for him to join her.
The man she assumed was named William sent Alex a parting glance before moving across the room to where he’d been summoned.
With her view no longer blocked by a guy old enough to be her grandfather, Alex continued her visual search for their host. On her far left, she found the same faces she’d seen before, but when her gaze slid further to the right, her entire body froze.
No. It’s not possible.
The steady hum of conversation swallowed her sharply inhaled gasp. She looked away quickly, closing her eyes and giving her head a slight shake in hopes of erasing what was obviously a figment of her wild imagination.
Only he wasn’t, because, when she looked back to the man in question, his ruggedly handsome features were even clearer than before.
Coulter Morgan.
Tall. Dark. Sinfully fit with blue eyes that sent her heart racing.
Coulter was Colt to his family and friends, though technically Alex was neither. Her sister, Avery, however, was married to Colt’s older brother, Garrett.
Now, him . . . I like.
Garrett was smart, funny, handsome, and sweet. Most importantly, he was head-over-heels in love with Avery. It also didn’t hurt that, along with the other members of Tac-Ops, Alex’s brother-in-law had been instrumental in saving Avery’s life.
Tac-Ops—short for Tactical Operations—was Garrett’s elite hostage rescue team. They traveled all over the globe to help those in dire need of being saved. Colt, on the other hand, was a wildcard whose fly-by-night attitude drove her positively insane.
Immature didn’t even begin to describe him, and for the past two years, it seemed as if Colt’s entire life mission was to become the bane of Alex’s existence. Well goal achieved because the man drove her crazy at every turn.
That’s only because you liiiike him.
No, she didn’t. Not unless “liking” him meant possessing the chronic urge to punch the jerk in his perfectly straight nose.
Whatever. You want nothing more than to tear off all his clothes, one torturous piece at a time.
Alex took another small sip, refusing to continue the ridiculous argument with her own subconscious. Colt was a thorn in her side and had been from the very moment his brother had married her sister. But if she were being honest—which she most certainly was not—the Bradley Cooper look-alike was also drop-dead freaking gorgeous.
Especially tonight.
Especially in that tux.
Black. Designer. Tailored to fit his masculine form with mouthwatering perfection.
The guy practically screamed poster boy for suit porn as he stood near a tall, white pillar across the room.His pretty eyes scanned the crowd as another scantily clad server approached him, sending the man’s kissable lips into a smile.
It was killer, no doubt. A smile Alex both hated and loved to see. She watched those same lips form a polite “thank you” before he reached for one of the offered flutes.
The young woman moved on to the next group of guests gathered a few feet away. Colt’s gaze followed, trailing the girl’s every move.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Alex squeezed the glass in her hand with such force it was a wonder the damn thing didn’t break. Beforeeven realizing her feet were moving, she was marching across the expansive space.
It wasn’t jealousy pushing her forward. The very notion was so ridiculous she nearly laughed.
The perpetual playboy could ogle the entire catering staff, for all she cared. Just not here and most definitely nottonight.
This was too important, and she refused to let Colt or anyone else embarrass her in front of Gordan Crawford or his influential friends. Speaking of?—
