Page 34 of Enchanted Hero
“Lovely.” Mrs. Perkins clapped her hands together.
Everleigh couldn’t look away from the mirror. “Have you done this before for Mr. Stone?” she asked impulsively, then wished she hadn’t. It didn’t matter if Alexander pampered all his lady friends.
“Of course.”
Her smile faltered.
“I work with Mr. Stone’s sisters, his cousins, close family friends. But that’s not what you’re asking, is it?” Mrs. Perkins’ eyes sparkled. “I believe the answer is no, I’ve never worked with aspecialfriendof Alexander’s.”
A special friend.“Oh no.” Everleigh wagged her finger. “You have the wrong idea. Alexander and I are just business partners. This is strictly a networking event.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Perkins beamed.
Everleigh sighed. Did anyone deny the all-powerful Alexander Stone?
She travelled to the grand hall, a magical wonderland where thousands of revelers danced under brilliant chandeliers. The walls were gilded and mirrored, with masterful oil paintings in ornate frames. Cut glass goblets and golden linens graced tables with long pillar candles and deep red roses. Everleigh took a deep breath of flower-scented air, smiling softly. The last time she’d infiltrated one of these events, she’d been too busy on her doomed quest to enjoy any of it. Now it felt almost magical, as if she were part of a storybook’s tale.
Only where was the crown prince?
Poised in the middle of the vast room, she turned, but Alexander was nowhere to be seen. Yet a whisper of a breeze tickled her neck, and heat engulfed her. She pivoted.
To her prince.
She lost the ability to talk. Almost to breathe. Of course, he’d always been gorgeous, stunning beyond reason, but now he was a masterpiece. He stood tall, towering above others as he surveyed his world like a conquering warrior, and her like apredator. He wore a tuxedo cut to perfection, straining against powerful muscles. As spice scented the world, desire flared, the urge to surrender all.
Fiery eyes proved he wasn’t immune to the attraction. Power and possessiveness tangled, challenging, asserting, claiming. The world melted away, conversations lowered as people peered at him, unable to do anything but submit to his power. She fought for her own strength.
“Would you like to dance?” His voice was deep, intense.
She should say no, should protect herself from the man whose true motives were still unknown. But his gaze gave her no choice. She hesitated briefly, then nodded.
He pulled her closer than a business partner should. And she accepted more than a business partner should, but how could she not when she pressed against six foot three of pure muscle? When she stiffened, he rubbed her back, plying her acquiescence. His hand stayed where was appropriate, yet everywhere he touched, passion burned. A soft sigh escaped.
His possessiveness was undeniable.
They twirled and spun, soaring in a world of their own, yet he always kept her near. The ten-piece band played one song and then another and another. When he pulled her close, she could only sigh and lean against him. The fifth dance came and went, and where this night was headed became clearer by the moment. She’d be lost forever if it didn’t stop.
A relationship might ultimately mean nothing to him, but she could fall hard. She forced her head back, fought for focus. Finally acknowledged the world that watched them. “Everyone is looking at you,” she whispered.
“Not me,” he murmured. “They can’t look away from the most beautiful woman in the world.”
From any other, the words would have been frivolous flattery, but this man dated the most beautiful actresses, supermodels andprincessesin the world. And somehow she believed him.
He led her into a deep dip. “As long as they only look, it’s fine.”
Her heart stumbled. Like a conqueror from the past, he would challenge anyone who dared steal what was his. She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him she’d do whatever she wanted with whomever she liked, but the gleam in his eyes stopped her. He wouldn’t leave the challenge unanswered.
“Are you having a nice time?”
Her unease lightened at the benign question. Perhaps she was casting too much significance into the night. She would ignore the possessiveness burning in his gaze. “It’s how I imagined my prom.”
Alexander inclined his head. “You didn’t go?”
“I got the flu instead.”
He winced. “That must have been devastating.”
Was he making fun of her? No, his concern was genuine, his kindness sincere. “It was pretty upsetting,” she admitted. “They had a beautiful venue where you could dance under the stars. But it’s okay.”
