Page 7 of Theirs to Tempt: The Marriage Claim

From a corner of the room, a string quartet begins to play, and several couples move onto the dance floor.

I am deep into a conversation with the executive director of a small nonprofit when the atmosphere shifts.

Everything inside me goes still as a subtle change in the air raises the fine hairs along my arms.

I turn toward the entrance without thinking, and there they are, stepping into the ballroom as though they own the very light that falls across the polished floor.

The two men who ruined my life eight years ago.

My carefully buried fury flares hot and immediate beneath my skin.

“Sophie?”

“Sorry.” I shake my head and give a small smile as I try to focus on what the woman is saying.

But it’s hopeless.

I can’t help but track the location of the two men.

They look exactly as I remember them from that jasmine-scented courtyard night—tall, polished, devastatingly controlled.

The taller one’s midnight-blue eyes sweep the room with the same quiet certainty that once shattered my entire future. The other man’s broader frame radiates the coiled intensity that made me feel pinned in place even from across the stone tiles.

My stomach clenches tight.

I’ve spent years convincing myself they were nothing more than ghosts, monsters from a nightmare I outgrew the moment Adrian walked away and never looked back.

Yet here they are. My worst moment brought back to life.

The taller one moves first, cutting across the floor with deliberate calm, his broad shoulders parting the crowd without effort.

I go cold when his eyes lock on me.

And since he is headed in my direction, I excuse myself and make my way toward my father for safety.

But the man cuts me off before I can reach Dad’s side.

He stops directly in front of me, close enough that the faint scent of his cologne—something dark and expensive—reaches me on the next breath.

Without asking, he extends his hand, palm up. The gesture is arrogantly assertive.

I don’t want anything to do with him. “Thank you. But no.”

“I think you’ll want to.”

“Meeting you once was enough for me.”

My voice must have been sharper than I intended, and the people I was speaking to are staring.

He smiles easily, undoing me. For a moment, I almost believe he’s someone other than the man who destroyed my future.

“A dance takes less than three minutes. And we’re in public.”

“If I do, you’ll leave me alone?”

He doesn’t respond.

Heat rushes through me. What is it about him? All my instincts are screaming that he’s dangerous. So why am I still here? Like a moth captivated by a flame.