Making scenes—well she is hard to miss. Thick and curvy, with that crimson hair, beautiful eyes, and stunning face, heads turn wherever she goes. Maybe she is a bit of a princess—there is something regal about her. About the way she enters a room, head held high as her crystal blue eyes scan the space, looking for something or someone worthy of her interest.
Tonight, they land on me. When she catches me watching her, I can see her flush even from a distance. It strikes me as funny—she should be used to the way I watch her by now. I spent the past few months watching her. More often than she even knows. She is not here by mistake—I want her here.
“There she is,” I say as my heart starts to beat differently. Luke is very aware of my obsession with Brielle. He had warned me she might not be here despite the invite I hand delivered to her two weeks ago. “I told you she would be here. Brielle knows I want her here.”
Watching her move through the crowd, I never take my eyes off her. Lennon is with her—she knew better than to bring a date as her plus one. This is a fancier affair than I tend to host, with everyone dressed to impress. I tug at my own tux as I watch her gown light up the room.
Brielle is stunning in awine-coloreddress. Low cut on thefront, with a sexy slit that showcases miles of leg, it is sexy as hell. When she turns to talk to Lennon, I see her back is bare but for a few flimsy straps. My hands itch to touch her, to trace the floral tattoo at her shoulder with my fingertips. As she turns to continue through the crowd, her skirt flares. From up here I can see her panties and immediately I want to rip them off to bare her.
“Fuck, she is so beautiful,” I groan as I watch her charm everyone she passes.
“Yeah, she is,” Luke agrees, throwing his hands up when I glare at him. “And I know just as everyone else does that she is off limits, so relax.”
When I do relax, he laughs and shakes his head. I guess I have made it clear my intentions for her. Not that she seems to notice. I have tried to flirt with her, to find out what she likes or places she likes to go, but she ignores me.Unfortunately,Briellesees me the same way others see her.
A spoiled brat whois notworth the effort.
Maybe once upon a time, I was that guy. Showing off on a reality show, being followed by paparazzi, and being a cocky prick did me no favors. Now I host charity events like this, I spend my time dodging cameras whileI am doinggood instead of showing off for them. Which means no one knows that I turned over a new leaf, but I don’t care what most people think.
ButI docare what Brielle thinks of me.
“I am going to go talk to her,” I announce as a wave of panic hits me. Any charm I showed playing a ski stud vanishes once I see her. I tried a dozen times to talk to her just to make a fool of myself. To ask her out or get her number or something...just to walk away with a bruised ego.
Rushing down the stairs, I stumble twice but catch myself before I faceplant. I could soar on skis but in thesewingtips,I am a disaster. Fixing my tie, I square my shoulders and mentally rehearse what I want to say. I mean I can’t really tell her all the things I want to.
I cannot tell her I am borderline obsessed with her. Or that I would do anything or give anything to spend time with her. To know what goes on in that head of hers. To find out what makes her smile. And to be the person who makes her happy. The one who gets to take care of her.
“Evening, Brielle,” I manage as I approach her, fixing my suit and fussing with my tie again. “You look...you look...just, wow,” I stutter.
Rolling my eyes at myself as she turns to face me, I wait for her to dismiss me.We havedone this dance before. I get the courage to talk to her and she blows me off. Thingswon’tgo down that way tonight. I am going to ask her out. I want her to give me a chance to show her I can be good to her.
“Thank you, Ace,” she offers as she tilts a look up at me. Her eyes sparkle in the dim lighting of the room. Makes her look as if she is keeping a secret. And she lets me in on her secret. “Looking good yourself, Brett.”
My insides churn at the way she looks at me as she says my name. It's just the second time she has ever used it. Usually, she just calls me Ace, which I hate. Seems too impersonal. This feels...very personal. As her eyes slide over me, heat floods the space between us, and I step closer.
“Thanks. You really look beautiful,” I whisper as I reach for her hand. I draw it to my lips and press a soft kiss to the silky skin of her wrist. Her eyes flash and her pulse thumps beneath my lips. Good. That’s a good sign.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice as soft as satin.
Keeping hold of her hand, I toy with her fingers absently. I tug her closer and she comes, surprising me. Her sweet scent hits me and I am dazed. Strawberries and something fresh. Soap or rain. I dip my head, so my nose touches the top of her head, and breathe her in, smiling when she giggles.
“Awful forward tonight, Ace,” her voice rasps sexily, making my dick jerk.
“Am I being forward? Greeting you like a lady, remarking how stunning you look...is that forward?”
“It is for you,” she husks, tipping her head back to gaze up at me.
Something simmers in the air between us. It’s different than theone-sidedneed that I have felt every single time I get close to her. I blink in shock, stunned it hits me the way it does. Her light eyes watch me with a heat I have never seen before. Heat I very much want to explore.
“Surprised you came,” I whisper softly, wanting to keep thisintimacyI feel between us going.
“You knew I would,” she husks back with a wicked smile. “I am a sucker for charities.”
Tilting my head at her, I wonder if she means the charities, we are here raising money for. Or if she means me, a charity case slightly obsessed with her. When she smirks at me, I think it might be the latter, but I don’t care.
I will take her charity if it means getting what I want—andI want her.
Chapter Two