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 glitzy lights of the event hall spill out from the grand windows, casting a warm, golden glow onto the sidewalk as we step out of the sleek black car. I feel James's hand slide possessively to the small of my back as he leads me forward, his presence radiating a sense of command that makes heads turn the moment we step inside. He's in all black, as usual, his suit tailored to perfection, draping him like it was crafted by someone who understood the gravity he carries with him. Tonight, he's exuding even more power than usual, an energy that feels both enticing and dangerous.
As we walk in, I catch sight of our reflection in a passing glass. My gown hugs my curves in all the right places, a deep emerald green that drapes down to the floor and shimmers with the slightest movement. The fabric wraps around one shoulder, leaving the other bare, exposing a sliver of collarbone that glitters with a delicate diamond necklace James insisted I wear. The gown has a slit that cuts up to my thigh, allowing glimpses of my leg with each step. I wore it with him in mind, knowing his gaze would linger. And, of course, it does.
"Did I mention how dangerously stunning you look tonight?" James murmurs, his lips brushing my ear as he speaks. There's that possessive tone in his voice that sends a thrill down my spine.
I meet his intense gaze and smirk, letting my hand slide slowly up his chest, feeling the firmness beneath the smooth fabric. "And did I mention how dangerously tempting you look, Mr. Wilson?"
His eyes darken, a look I know well by now. But tonight, it's different. There's something else lurking there, a mix of pride and something vulnerable. "You're going to ruin me," he says, his tone light but his eyes saying something deeper.
I tilt my head, looking up at him. "Ruin? I thought you liked a little chaos."
"I do, Scarlett." He brushes his thumb across my cheek, a tender gesture that feels so unlike him, and yet, so perfectly us. "But only the kind I control."
There's a flash in his eyes, something soft and real beneath all his usual guarded armor. It's these moments with him that make the rest of his world worth navigating. "And you think you're in control tonight?" I challenge, arching a brow.
James chuckles, low and amused. "Not entirely, but I'd like to think I know you better than most." His fingers tighten on my waist, grounding me as we walk forward. "Do me a favor tonight," he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear as we pause at the top of the staircase. "Stay close. I don't trust half the men in this room not to try something."
"Possessive much?" I tease, giving him a look as I place my hand on his shoulder.
"Not possessive," he replies, but his tone and the way his hand lingers a little too long on my waist say otherwise. "Protective."
We're interrupted by the flash of interest from the businessmen attending the event. The moment we step onto the event floor, they start to gravitate toward us like moths to a flame. James pulls me a fraction closer, his gaze shifting, assessing the room. I catch sight of a few men scattered along the periphery of the room, their sharp eyes discreetly focused on James—his security, though they're careful to blend into the crowd. It's subtle, but I know James has meticulously orchestrated everything to make sure he's prepared for anything that might come his way.
