Page 21 of The CEO's Obsession

Mason nods, his composure returning like a mask sliding into place. He turns to the gallery owner, who's hovering nearby looking distressed.

"I'll cover the damages," he says smoothly, pulling out a sleek black credit card. "And I trust this unfortunate incident won't find its way to the press?"

The owner's eyes widen at the implied threat—or perhaps it's the promise of Mason's money. Either way, he nods quickly.

As Mason deals with the fallout, I stand there, my cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and something else I can't quite name. The adrenaline is still coursing through my veins, my heart pounding.

I should be appalled. I should be running for the hills after witnessing Mason's violent outburst. But there's a traitorous part of me that felt a thrill at his possessive display, at the raw power he exuded.

When Mason turns back to me, his eyes are dark and intense. Without a word, he takes my hand and leads me swiftly through the gallery. I can feel the eyes of the other patrons on us, hear their whispers, but Mason's grip grounds me.

We burst out onto the Parisian street, the afternoon sun momentarily blinding after the dim lighting of the gallery. Mason doesn't slow his pace, guiding me purposefully down the sidewalk.

"Mason, where are we—" I start to ask, but he cuts me off by suddenly pulling me into a narrow alleyway between two buildings.

Before I can catch my breath, he has me pressed against the rough brick wall, his body caging mine. His lips crash down on mine in a bruising kiss that steals what little air I had left in my lungs.

I should push him away. I should be furious. Instead, I find myself melting into the kiss, my hands fisting in the lapels of his expensive suit.

When Mason finally breaks the kiss, we're both panting. His forehead rests against mine as he speaks in a low, gravelly voice. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Harper. But I'm not sorry for protecting what's mine."

A shiver runs through me at his possessive words. "Yours?" I breathe, my mind reeling.

Mason's hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip. "Yes, mine," he growls. "Tell me you don't feel it too. This connection between us."

I want to deny it. I want to be strong and independent and tell him he's crazy. But I can't lie, not when every nerve ending in my body is singing from his touch.

"I feel it," I admit in a whisper. “But you can’t be acting like that.”

A triumphant gleam flashes in Mason's eyes. He leans in close, his lips brushing my ear as he speaks. "Good. Because I'm not letting you go, Harper. Not now, not ever."

His words should terrify me. Instead, they send a thrill of excitement through my core. As Mason's lips find mine again in a searing kiss, I know I'm in way over my head.

But just as I start to lose myself in the kiss, a loud crash from the street startles us apart. We both turn to look, and I freeze in shock at what I see...

CHAPTER

TEN

Harper

My heartnearly stops as I see the cause of the commotion. A sleek black motorcycle has skidded to a halt at the entrance of the alley, its rider dismounting with fluid grace. As they remove their helmet, I catch a glimpse of familiar blonde hair.

Tyler. My best friend from art school. I haven’t seen him since he moved off to California.

"Harper?" he calls out, his voice a mix of confusion and relief. "Oh my god, I've been looking everywhere for you!"

I'm frozen in place, caught between Mason's possessive embrace and the shocked face of my childhood friend. How did he find me here? Why is he in Paris?

Mason's arm tightens around my waist, and I feel the tension radiating through his body. His eyes narrow as he assesses Tyler, clearly seeing him as a threat.

"Who is this?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

Before I can answer, Tyler strides towards us, his face hardening as he takes in the scene.

"Get your hands off her," he growls at Mason. "Harper, are you okay? Is this guy bothering you?"

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. How can I possibly explain this situation?

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