With a sigh, I fasten the clasp of my necklace. The contrast of the white pearls on my bronze skin make them pop. I roll one of the smooth pebbles between my fingertips, the sudden longing stifling. Lucas gifted me the necklace for our first anniversary. He had taken me to French Polynesia and we had the best of times. It was before everything went to shit. Now those memories just hurt.

"You look nice."

My gaze flicks to Xavier stretched out on my bed. For once, the game console in his hands does not eat up his entire attention.

"Thanks, cariño." I spin around in front of the mirror. The fitted black dress with the keyhole back highlights everything it should, from my wide butt to my perky tits, though I have no clue whom I'm trying to impress. Truth is, I shouldn't even be going. "Are you sure you're gonna be fine on your own?"

"Positive."

"And I promise I won't be long." A couple of hours tops; just long enough not to arouse suspicion.

Xavier rolls his eyes. "Just go and enjoy yourself. I'll be fine."

With a snicker, I look at my little boy almost drowning in the fluffy comforter that's stacked around him. He is growing up way too fast. "Still, I should've gotten a sitter."

"It's okay. I'm ten years old now. Double digits. Uncle E said that makes me a man."

I shake my head at his logic. My brother and I have a very different interpretation of what makes a man. "I could still ask the lady from across the hall—"

Xavier groans. "Mom, please. If we were still living at home, you wouldn't be worried."

"That's because there was always someone in the house."

"And people are in the building here, too. If there's a problem, I can go downstairs to the doorman."

"Yeah, you're right." His reasoning is annoying. A boy his age shouldn't be this street smart. "Do you have my number programmed in your phone?"

"Yes."

"And what's the emergency number for the cops?"

"Nine-one-one." He openly rolls his eyes at me. "And I know my bedtime is ten thirty, and I won't clean out the liquor cabinet or play with your gun."

His eyes are sincere and filled with that sparkle of hope to simply trust him. And why shouldn't I? He's a good kid who has never disappointed me.

"Okay, you win." I walk over to the vanity table where I set my open laptop. The download of the encrypted files E sent is complete and I pop the microchip out of the computer. "But if there's anything at all, promise me you'll call."

"Of course."

On second thought, I need more than that. "And I want at least one Snap. Every hour."

He groans again but doesn't argue. It's a small compromise that makes both of us happy. He loves sending me silly Snaps.

I unscrew the fake pen and pull out the refill. Popping the microchip into the little compartment, I reassemble the pen and drop it into my clutch purse together with a copy of Pride and Prejudice. The little bag barely closes, but it will do. The museum is only a ten-minute walk from here and the exchange is scheduled in an hour.

I bend down and kiss Xavier on the forehead. "I love you, cariño. Be good."

"I love you, too, Mom." He smirks. "And have fun."

"Don't be cheeky." I tousle his hair. Leaving him feels like a betrayal, but it's not that I have a choice. After everything E did for us, asking me for this small favor, even on short notice, is not something I could've refused.

The night air is crisp and stings my lungs. I cuddle into my coat as I walk swiftly down the sidewalk on Fifth Avenue. Back-to-back limousines on the road next to me are my steady companion; it's not surprising seeing them lined up for one of the most prestigious fundraisers of the year. Three thousand bucks a plate—an expense my brother didn't spare to allow for an inconspicuous drop. The dude I'm supposed to meet works for the Bratva ruling the East Coast, and I don't even want to know what type of business deal they have in the pipeline.

I laugh under my breath. Newly-minted US Attorney Robyn Sinclair is in cahoots with one of the biggest crooks of New York. What would Gordon Mullins say if he found out, though technically, he isn't my boss until Monday morning, when I start my job with his office.

Queuing at the entrance to the museum, I let my gaze roam over the waiting guests. Women in beautiful gowns on the arms of tuxedo-clad men. The who-is-who of the city, rich beyond measure, with outfits that easily camouflage the source of their wealth. My bet is that at least half the people in this line did something unethical to get to where they are today, even if most of them didn't blatantly violate the law.

"Your name?"

I hand the security guard my invitation. "Robyn Sinclair."

She checks my name off a list and I stroll into the museum's foyer. The air is buzzing with laughter, clinging glasses, and excited chatter. Lucas was a sucker for this type of event and loved the attention a higher societal status brings. He would've felt right at home—I, on the other hand, would like nothing more than jump out of my skin and run. Plus, the mere fact that I'm here on my own is awkward.

Sudden nostalgia rears its ugly head and I have to swallow hard for my face not to crack. It was my choice to end things with Lucas and to totally change my life, so I have to suck it up. Walking aimlessly around the museum to kill the time, I finally settle on a barstool by the bar counter closest to the men's bathroom. I place the copy of Pride & Prejudice book next to my purse in plain sight.

The bar tender drops a napkin in front of me. "Anything to drink?"

"A glass of champagne, please."

Checking the time on my phone, I smile. Xavier sent me a Snap with his tongue sticking out and he's holding up the Merlot bottle from the liquor cabinet.

Just kidding reads the caption.

I'll still check his breath for any sign of alcohol, just to irk him.

"Excuse me, may I borrow a pen?"

I look up and meet the glare of an older white guy with salt and pepper hair. He has a block face and harsh features; a scar the length of my small finger mars his forehead above his right eyebrow. Zero emotions reflect in his steel blue eyes, his smile cold and aloft. The tailored tux doesn't hide the killer vibes that are enough to send a sliver of fear down my spine. He runs his index finger along the spine of Pride and Prejudice, softly but still with a matter of urgency. He wants this exchange done, and pronto.

"Certainly." I open my purse and set the pen on the counter. "Feel free to keep it."

He steps aside and pretends to write something on a napkin before pocketing the pen and strolling off without a thank you or another glance. Even if the Feds surveilled him, nothing would suggest that this was anything but an innocent encounter. I should be in the clear.

Taking a shaky beath, I sip from the champagne and open Pride and Prejudice to distract myself.

"Some light reading in case you get bored?"

I snap my head around and squint at the man who snuck up on me. His face looks familiar, though it takes me a couple of seconds to place him. "Didn't we meet at the grocery store the other day?"

"We did indeed." His deep, gravelly voice rubs my skin in inconvenient places that force me to cross my legs. My gaze is drawn to his long-curved eyelashes.

Shit, the man is gorgeous.

"What are you doing here?"

He quirks a brow. "Supporting a good cause, same as you."

Heat warms my cheeks. Of course he is here for the auction and not to stalk me.

A smile curls his full lips. "My company is actually one of the donors, so I attend the fundraiser every year. Anything to help sick kids."

"I couldn't agree more."

He nods at the bartender. "A Martini, please."

The joke pops out before I can help it. "Let me guess. Shaken, not stirred."

He laughs out loud. "To be honest, I'm not as finicky as James Bond and like my Martini either way. As long as it's chilled, I'm good."

At least he has a sense a humor.

When he reaches around me to clasp the stem of the martini class, his long fingers unleash wild imaginations. They could fuck me senseless or roll my nipples between their tips until they are hard as a rock. Licking my lips, I shift on the stool. Hopefully, the arousal won't stain the back of my dress.

'But where are my manners?" He stretches out his hand. "I'm Nick."

"Robyn."

The handshake is firm, his skin cool from the frosted glass. He stands now so close that our knees touch. I inhale his spicy aftershave; it's a blend of earth and forest with just a hint of citrus. Mixed with the saltiness of his skin, I bet he tastes delicious. I'm more or less drooling, though considering that I hadn't have sex in close to a year, I have the right to be horny.

"Shall we?"

His question tears me out of my trance. "Excuse me?"

"Shall we find a seat? The auction is about to start."

I should leave. Xavier is home alone. Although he sent another Snap, a clear sign of life. Nick's closeness causes a sensation overload; the releasing hormones cause my rational mind to shut down. Uninhibited urges take over my willpower and I find myself nodding. Holding on to the champagne glass grounds me enough to walk. Nick keeps his hand on my lower back, his thumb caressing the bare skin exposed by the keyhole opening in the dress. By the time I sit down, the arousal has soaked my panties. The wetness between my legs is almost uncomfortable and my sex throbs.

Nick registers the number of his bidding panel on his app. The slight bulge in his designer pants is almost torture. I want his cock deep inside me.

"Do you have a particular piece you would like to buy?" I ask in a desperate attempt to distract myself from the pulsing need in my crotch.

"I'm rather fond of the piece I donated, so I'll bid on that."

I arch a brow. "You'll bid on your own donation?"

"Yep."

"Why not just give the foundation the money?"

"What would be the fun it that?" His brown eyes sparkle with the audacity of a risk taker. "In an auction, someone could still outbid me, so I find it thrilling."

"Well, then let's hope that no one takes you for all the money you have."

He chuckles. "That would be impossible."

I'm tempted to prove him wrong, but E would not approve if I dipped into the offshore accounts for such a silly quest.

The first lot is offered; it's a cute little Monet that fetches a decent price. The next offerings are mostly unknown artists that have good-cause efforts written all over them, but that are not truly of interest to an art collector. Under normal circumstances, I would be bored, but Nick's presence keeps my body on high alert. I'm enjoying his closeness way more than I should, and my hormones cause one heat flash after another to rip through my lower torso whenever our eyes meet. His curved lips are mesmerizing.

The auctioneer unveils the next piece and I take a sharp breath.

No fucking way!

Nick straightens in his seat.

"We are now auctioning off the best piece of tonight. Pablo Picasso's Tête à L'oiseau. Bidding starts at one million dollars." The auctioneer looks around. "Do I have one million five-hundred?"

Nick raises his panel.

"This is your donation?" I hiss under my breath.

"Yep."

"One point five million to the man in the back. Do I have two million?" The auctioneer's question is met with low mumbles.

The panel of a woman goes up.

"Two million to Mrs. Grafton. Anyone bidding two and a half million?"

Nick lifts his panel.

"Three million?"

Turning around, the woman raises her panel.

I bite my lip. Even though it's not my money that's at stake, the adrenaline rush is real.

"Five million." Nick's voice carries above the heads of the other bidders and is met with an "ohh."

The auctioneer looks around. Nick's offer has stunned the crowd into silence.

"Five million going once, going twice . . ." The gavel comes down. "Sold for five million dollars to the gentleman in the back."

Wow.

Nick leans in and his lips touch my ear. "I told you I'd win."

The whole experience has made me dizzy. "And it's for a good cause, right?"

"That's right." His hand takes advantage of the keyhole in my back. Slipping his fingers underneath the fabric just above my butt, he sends tingles all over my skin. "Why don't we go someplace less crowded?"

Xavier. I can't stay out all night.

Nick's gentle touch hums on my skin and my lust defeats the rest of my resolve. "We can go to my place. It's right down the street, but I have to warn you. We have to be absolutely quiet or we'll be trouble with my son."

So Robyn and Nick reconnect and Nick uses the opportunity to dazzle Robyn. Do you think this was a chance meeting or did Nick's stalking efforts pay off. Also, what do you make of Robyn making a drop for her brother? All comments/theories welcome and please don't forget to vote if the chapter deserved it. Thanks for reading!