Meet Scarlett Striker, a bold and quirky journalist for the Seattle Times. She's fun, confident, sassy, and just the right amount of weird. Scarlett is determined to rise to the top, no matter what it takes.
When her boss offers a golden opportunity...
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The grand ballroom of the hotel James leads us into is breathtaking, with crystal chandeliers casting a soft, golden light over the elegantly dressed guests. My hand rests lightly on James's arm as we enter, my evening gown fitting perfectly, making me look every bit the part of a glamorous, confident woman. Yet beneath the surface, I'm anything but. I'm on high alert, my mind racing with the real reason I'm here—to play the role of his arm candy while gathering intel on this charity event.
As we walk in, I can feel eyes on us, heads turning to follow our every move. James commands attention effortlessly, his presence magnetic, but I'm not used to being the center of attention like this. The weight of the stares, the whispers, and the scrutiny from those around us feels like a physical force pressing down on me. But when I glance at James, his profile is as composed as ever, betraying nothing. He's cool, controlled, and completely unfazed by the attention we're drawing.
James guides us to the bar, where he orders two drinks. When the bartender hands him his cognac and me a spritz, I finally muster the courage to break the silence. "So, should I play dumb?" I ask, taking a sip of the bubbly cocktail, the cool liquid doing little to ease my nerves.
James's eyes rake over me, his expression unreadable. "You are just arm candy after all," he replies, his tone laced with a touch of condescension as he takes a sip of his cognac. His gaze narrows as he watches me closely. "Play your part, and stop giving me those withering looks."
I force a seductive smile onto my lips, trying to mask the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "Right, I must find you irresistible," I say, letting the words drip with sarcasm, though my tone remains light. "Should I bat my lashes too, or is that overkill?"
James steps closer, his presence overwhelming as he leans in slightly. "You already find me irresistible," he murmurs darkly, the words sending an involuntary shudder down my spine. His voice is a low, velvety threat that makes my heart skip a beat. I meet his gaze with a pointed look, refusing to back down even as he invades my space.
I raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a challenging look. "Don't flatter yourself. Just because you can dress up nice doesn't mean I'm impressed."
"Keep telling yourself that, princess." There it is, him calling me princess again.
