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Excerpt

Jesus, he's not the Spaniard!

That's the first thing I notice when he tells me not to leave and then leaves the room with the boss.

On a scale of zero to ten, how screwed am I? Not just for introducing myself to the wrong man but for feeling wildly attracted to the first client I dance for.

That was totally unexpected. I thought I would hate every moment, but instead, I felt beautiful and sexy as I was desired by the man. Yes, even in my inexperience, I could identify raw and intense desire in his eyes.

What did he go to do with Mr. Ares? Clarify the mistake? I might be naïve, but a man with looks like that doesn't need to frequent a club to fulfill his fantasies. I don't doubt that if he snapped his fingers, women would be clamoring to give him whatever he wanted.

I'm still facing away from the entrance when I feel a shiver down my neck.

He's back, I realize, and I have no idea how to act. The urge to bend down and pick up the robe from the floor is enormous, but the fear of being fired wins.

I turn around to look at him, and he stares at me from only a short distance away. He’s so close that I'm afraid he can hear the rapid beating of my heart.

I wet my lips with my tongue to speak, but even then, I have to make an effort to produce any sound. "Should I continue dancing?"

He takes a while to respond, and it's a tremendous effort to stay still.

"Let's get out of here, Madison."

I repeat his words to myself, sure that I misheard.

He must have asked Mr. Ares for my name, fine, but if he's a member of the club, he knows perfectly well that we shouldn't even be talking to each other in the first place. And what's this "let's get out of here" business?

What do I do now?

I study his face to try to guess the meaning of his words, refusing to believe that this handsome man is breaking the rules to ask me out. It would mean his exclusion from the club, as well as my dismissal, because they might think I encouraged him.

I remember what Adriel said—just call security and accuse him of harassment. Everything would be resolved. The problem is, I don't feel harassed. I like those piercing blue eyes on me.

No. That's the worst path you could choose, Madison. Dance for the gorgeous millionaire man, then give your best fake smile and return to the real world.

"Sir, you must know that this is not allowed," I say, sweetening my voice, but at the same time acting as if I'm in charge, when inside I'm very anxious.

In a normal situation, being the object of interest for a man like this would be flattering, even though I'm aware of the obvious gap between our worlds. But any opening I give him could mean the loss of my job, and that's a risk I can't take.

"Change your clothes. I'm taking you out to dinner," he says, ignoring what I said.

I'm not sure if it's the arrogance in his tone, the certainty that I would leave my job and follow him without a second thought, or the intensity of his attraction that makes me act.

"I don't know your name, sir, but you certainly aren't the person I’m supposed to be presenting myself to, since you speak English without an accent. But at the risk of being rude, I'll give you two options: either you sit back down and I'll dance to as many songs as you're willing to pay for, or I'll have to leave you alone here. There's no third alternative." I feel strangely excited by challenging him, even though no one needs to tell me that he's not the type of man to be challenged.

"I'm Zeus Kostanidis, Madison. Now we know each other."

I use all the skill I acquired from my father to not let him see how much discovering his identity has shaken me. "If you're Mr. Ares' brother, you know the rules better than anyone."

To my surprise, just like with my boss on our first encounter, the corner of his mouth lifts, but in Zeus, this almost-smile is full of cynicism. While his arrogance irritates me, it also excites me. The self-confidence the man exudes is very sexy.

No, I must be going crazy.

No way, Miss Madison. Even if he's not a client, you live in different galaxies.

I pick up my robe from the floor and put it on. I don't feel even a millimeter more secure now that I've covered myself, because I'm madly attracted to him and I don't know what to do about it.

"Rules don't apply to me. Besides, I wasn't thinking about anything other than taking you to dinner."

I cross my arms in front of my chest. "Can I speak freely without you telling my boss what we talked about?"

"I'm listening."

"I have no experience with men, but I know someone like you doesn't date girls like me, so if we're done here, I wish you a good night." I sound irritated, but to be honest, what makes me confront him with such determination is the intense sexual attraction he arouses in me.

"Someone like me?" he asks slowly.

"Yes. You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't. Clarify, Madison."

"Wealthy, Mr. Kostanidis."

"Is that a flaw?"

"In my world, yes."

"A dinner," he says, ignoring my protest once again.

"I can't."

Even though I really want to.

Yeah, I'm that stupid. Even though I know he can't want anything but sex from me, given the circumstances under which we’ve met, if it weren't for the risk of losing my job, I would accept the invitation because he's too handsome.

"And what if I say there won't be any risk of losing your job?" he says, as if he can read my mind.

I bite my lip nervously, unsure how to deal with what I'm feeling.

I close my eyes for a moment, and immediately the image of my niece and nephew comes to my mind, then Brooklyn in the hospital, and just like that, all doubt disappears. The security of my family is more important than throwing myself into an adventure that will probably last one night.

"In your world, maybe there are no consequences for breaking rules, Mr. Kostanidis, because in it, you're the king. But in mine and yours, I'm a subject. Good night."

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About the Author

D.A. Lemoyne embarked on her writing journey in August 2019. Since then, she has written more than 70 books and several bestselling series, captivating readers along the way.

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