CHRIS

This was, without a doubt, the most genuine expression I had ever seen on Sarah Hannah Wayne’s face.

Yes, I’d looked up her full name. Call it a dick move, but I needed to know everything about the woman causing this maddening warmth in my chest—a warmth my heart seemed to crave whenever she was near.

This feeling. It was confusing. Terrifying, even. And yet, the thought of it stopping? I couldn’t bear it.

I was still trying to make sense of it all. I’d never felt anything like this before—not even close. It was like my chest tightened every time I saw her smile. My pulse raced whenever her skin brushed mine, melting so effortlessly against me. I could tell she felt it too, even if she didn’t know what to call it.

Maybe she was just as scared as I was about whatever this was. I wouldn’t blame her if she was.

The truth was, when I first saw her, my intentions were shallow. Selfish. I wanted the pleasure of hearing her say my name in bed. That hadn’t changed—I still wanted her in every way—but now, I wanted more.

More of her. And maybe... more of us?

God, I sounded insane. Like, really insane. There was no way I could tell Alex about this. It’d just add another layer of drama to an already messy situation.

"You..." Her voice pulled me out of my head. My eyes flicked back to Sarah as she began to speak.

Even in the dark, the dim light on the balcony framed her perfectly, letting me take in every breathtaking detail.

She looked incredible.

The soft glow illuminated her flushed cheeks, which had likely turned pink after my last words. Did I surprise her? It made me wonder—I wondered why they had such an effect on her when she must have men chasing after her back home, saying much better catch lines than I.

The thought made my jaw tighten.

I hated feeling like this but it was facts.

let’s just face it: Sarah was the kind of woman who wouldn’t have looked at me twice under normal circumstances. If not for this contract forcing us into proximity, I would’ve been just another fuckboy dreaming about a goddess he’d never reach.

A fuckboy who would use her for pleasure and move on.

Fuck. That sounded so horrible.

Is that how I have been behaving all this time?

It's sickening.

"You're ridiculous," she whispers, her words nearly drowned by the way she takes a huge sip of wine, almost as if trying to erase what I just said. The way she moves—awkward, adorable, and completely out of her element—makes me want to laugh, but the moment shifts like a sudden wave crashing into me.

The weight of what I’d just admitted settles in, and for a second, I wonder if I should’ve kept my mouth shut. But no. It’s too late for second-guessing.

I let out a soft sigh, dropping my guard as I met her eyes. “Why?”

She blinks, confused. “Huh?”

“Why do you think what I said was ridiculous?”

She doesn’t answer, her eyes darting to her glass instead of meeting mine. It’s a small crack in her armor, but I see it.

I pressed on, pouring out the truth in a voice lower than before. “I meant what I said—about no one else in that room being the one I wanted to dance with... to be with.”

Her breath catches, just barely, but it’s enough for me to notice. Her body stiffened, her hand tightening around the glass as she processed what I’d said.

Her lips parted slightly, like she’s about to respond, but nothing comes out. Instead, her eyes darted back to mine, and for a second, I can see everything she’s feeling—surprise, doubt, and something deeper that she’s trying hard to suppress.

Then, she looked away, breaking the invisible tether between us. Her voice dropping as she speaks, almost as if the words hurt to say. “Well, it’s too late. The party is already over... so forget about it.”

She finished the rest of her wine in one swift motion, the glass trembling slightly in her grip. I noticed the way her shoulders tensed, like she’s bracing herself for what’s next, and it made smile—softly, knowingly.

“Who says it’s too late?” I murmured, my tone laced with challenge.

Her head snapped back toward me, her eyes narrowing in confusion. I took the moment to set my own glass down on the bench beside her, my movements deliberate and calm, as if I’ve got all the time in the world.

Then, I rose to my feet, moving to stand in front of her, blocking her from escaping this—escaping us.

The way she looked up at me—her confusion and hesitation etched into every line of her face. I held her gaze, my chest tightening at the vulnerability she tries so hard to hide.

I extended my hand toward her, palm up, watching as her gaze flickered between my face and my outstretched hand. She looked uncertain, her brows drawing together like she’s searching for answers.

Answers I’ve already given her.

“Dance with me,” I said, my voice low, meant only for her. Not a command, not a plea—just a quiet promise.

"Dance with me, Sarah."

I said once more, making my voice more audible so she wouldn’t think she was imagining all this.

Her lips pressed together, her hesitation clear, but I didn’t move. I held her gaze, silently willing her to take my hand. She may think she’s the one who’s guarded, but I see through her. Every little flicker of emotion, every ounce of doubt—it’s all there, and it’s all I need to know I’m getting through to her.

Now, it’s up to her.

She stared at my hand like it was something foreign, her lips parting as if to say something, but no words came out. For a moment, I wondered if she’d reject me, push me away like she’d done before.

But then, slowly, her fingers moved, hesitating just long enough to make my chest tighten. Finally, she placed her hand in mine, the warmth of her skin sending a jolt of energy through me.

I pulled her up gently, her body stiff but pliant as she rose to her feet. The wine glass slipped from her other hand, clinking softly as it hit the bench. Her emerald– like eyes searched mine, wary, hesitant, but there was something else there too—something she was trying desperately to hide.

Without a word, I guided her a few steps away from the bench, keeping her hand in mine. The cool night air wrapped around us, but I barely felt it, too focused on the woman in front of me.

“There’s no music,” she muttered, her voice shaky, as if she was looking for an excuse to pull away.

I smirked, my free hand settling lightly on her waist. “We don’t need music.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and I felt her breath hitch as I drew her closer, leaving just enough space between us to keep it from feeling like too much.

For a moment, she resisted, her body tense, but then she relaxed, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder. The corners of her lips tugged downward, as though she was fighting the urge to let herself feel this.

But I won't let her, she needed to feel what I was feeling.

We began to sway, the silence around us broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the celebration inside. Her gaze drifted to the ground, avoiding mine, but I didn’t let her retreat into herself.

“Look at me,” I said softly. "I want your eyes on me, love."

Her eyes stayed locked on my chest, her refusal to meet my gaze as stubborn as ever. I let out a quiet sigh, then gently touched her chin, tilting her face upward so she couldn’t avoid me any longer. There was a stiffness in her movements, a wariness that made my chest tighten, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned ever so slightly into my touch, like part of her wanted more even if she wouldn’t admit it.

"Is it just me, or do you look even shorter than earlier?” I teased, my lips curling into a small smirk. The tension was too much for me to bear and I needed to lighten the mood somehow, to distract both of us from how intoxicating this moment felt.

Her brows furrowed as if trying to process what I’d just said. Then, glancing down at her feet, she muttered, “Oh. I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“I’m…” She licked her lips, pausing as if unsure whether to say it. The sight of her tongue brushing against her lips was almost too much, and I had to fight the urge to run my thumb over them.

“You’re what, Sarah?” I asked, my voice softer now.

“I’m not wearing my heels,” she admitted, her voice almost shy.

I followed her gaze, noticing her bare feet for the first time. Her toes peeked out delicately, and to my surprise, I found myself smiling. “You have cute toes.”

She looked up at me, startled by my comment, but instead of being shocked, she leaned back slightly and let out a laugh.

Fuck me. Even her laugh was fucking cute.

It was another rare sight, one I wasn’t expecting, but it hit me like a wave. That laugh—light, free, and completely unguarded—was probably the most beautiful sound I’d heard in years. My shoulders eased, and for a second, I forgot everything else. Would it be crazy to tell her how much I loved the sound, how I wanted to hear it every day, but I wasn’t sure if she’d blush. In fact she would think I was just flirting again.

“You also have a cute laugh,” I added, unable to control my tongue. It was probably too much, but with Sarah, I couldn’t help myself.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, enough with the flirting,” she said, though her voice still carried a trace of that laugh. I could feel the tension in her body ease just a little, though not entirely.

“That’s going to be a hard thing to do,” I said, smirking.

Her brow arched in challenge. “Why? Because you’re a flirt?”

We were still moving in sync, her hand resting on my chest while her other hand stayed in mine. The rhythm was slow, intimate, and I wasn’t in any rush to break it.

“Hmm. Something like that,” I replied. “But mostly because it’s hard not to.”

She tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “How can it be hard not to flirt?”

I shook my head lightly, a soft smile tugging at my lips at how completely she misunderstood me. “I mean it’s hard not to flirt when you’re around.”

She rolled her eyes again, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “Now I get why Alex warned me about you—and why you’re so popular with women. You’ve got a… sweet mouth.”

I nodded, pressing my lips together as though considering her words. “I guess I do.”

“Oh,” she said suddenly, her tone shifting. Her eyes widened slightly as if remembering something. “Where were you earlier? I came to your room before the party started and… didn’t find you.”

She came to see me? My chest tightened at the thought. Regret settled in immediately. I shouldn’t have left so early, but I thought she’d need her space. Besides, I had other matters to handle.

“Oh, right. I was busy with something important,” I said, keeping my tone casual.

“You were busy?” she repeated, her tone carrying an edge of disbelief.

“Yes? Is there a problem with that?” I genuinely asked out of curiosity and wondering why she said 'busy' the way she did.

“No. Not at all." Her response was quick, and I could tell by her clipped tone that she didn’t believe me.

She glanced away, her body stiffening slightly in my arms. Whatever lightness we’d built had started to slip away, and I hated the thought of her retreating into herself again.

"Don’t you want to ask me what I was doing?” I asked, watching her closely, hoping for some indication that she cared enough to wonder.

She shrugged, her gaze darting anywhere but me. “I don’t think I have the right to ask that. It’s your body, and whatever you feel like doing—it’s your hormones.”

My hormones? What the hell was she thinking—

Oh. Then it struck me.

She thinks I was with another woman.

“I found out my brother is here,” I revealed, cutting through whatever assumption had just formed in her mind.

Her eyes softened immediately, like a weight had lifted off her shoulders. “Really? Have you seen him?”

I shook my head. “No. Remember the pictures I told you about? The ones Alex said she hired a detective to investigate?” She nodded, and I continued. “Well, I went to see a friend of mine who grew up with me. He recognized the park in the photos—it’s the one we used to go to as kids.”

“You went to a park?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Recently or when you were younger?”

I chuckled, pulling her closer to me without even thinking about it. “Is that so hard to believe? I never liked staying here. Elliot and I used to sneak out of the castle all the time. We’d go roller skating with Todd.”

“Todd?”

“Yeah, he’s the friend I met earlier today. We went back to the park to look for any clues about my brother.” I paused, taking a steadying breath. “I was hoping he’d show up to see me, but it’s fine. I’m fine.” I forced a smile, one I’d perfected over years of pretending everything was okay.

“Fine my foot,” she shot back, instantly cutting through my act.

I blinked at her, startled, as she continued, her voice sharp but laced with concern. “You miss him. And, sorry if this comes off hard or strong, but his behavior is so childish.”

“Sarah—”

“No,” she snapped, her glare fierce and unyielding. “Let me finish, okay?”

I swallowed hard and nodded, letting her speak.

“I’m not hating on him or anything,” she said, her tone softening just slightly, “but for him to just cut you and Alex off for five fucking years? That’s messed up. He has no idea what’s going on in your lives. He doesn’t even know how hard you, his younger brother, are working just to make sure he’s okay—or even alive. That’s so wrong. I’m the firstborn…” Her voice cracked, and I saw a flicker of pain in her eyes. “I can’t possibly imagine leaving James alone for that long. Just being here is already tearing me apart. I wish I could go back and stay with him, but I can’t.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. There was so much I wanted to say—how much I admired her love for her brother, how deeply I understood the pain of being apart from family—but all I managed was a soft, “You miss him.”

She nodded unconsciously, her sigh heavy with emotion. “You have no idea,” she murmured. Her eyes glowed with a distant sadness, and I could tell she was thinking of James. “Whenever we chat, he always asks if my boss would give me a vacation so I could visit him and tell him everything that’s happening here.”

“Your boss?” I repeated, stumbling over the words.

The mood shifted instantly. Her body stiffened, and her eyes darted around as if she’d just said something she wasn’t supposed to.

“Uh… umm…” Her voice trembled as she pulled her hand away from mine, the movement sharp and almost painful. Her expression shifted into something guarded, almost terrified. “It’s already late. We should go.”

Wait...what?

What did I do wrong?

What just happened?