Yours Suddenly

Chapter 2

Alexandra

My heart rate skyrockets like I'm being chased.

For a moment I do nothing but stare at a stranger as his scent wraps around me in a cold yet warm embrace.

“Um,” I say, my voice a little faint, “I think you’re at the wrong table?”

The man's eyes briefly drop to my lips and then back to my eyes before he gives a slow, imperceptible shake of his head.

“I'm pretty sure you are…?” I say, my voice trailing away. I swallow, not being able to taste the wine anymore.

He keeps glaring at me, not saying anything. Then he says, “I'm at the right table.”

I… I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say anything more assuredly and definitively.

He adds, “I would love to have dinner with you.”

His voice is deep and sends waves of pleasure down my spine. But his words make me go: What the hell?

“I'm already on a date,” I say with a squeak. I'm sweating profusely and adjust myself in my seat, sitting up straighter to appear less flummoxed when the man doesn't respond to what I say. I have to try and intimidate him too. I raise my eyebrows at him.

His face… his face is absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful . With thick dark eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, full lips and those burning eyes.

He remains expressionless, almost bored but his eyes don't once leave my face. They don't study my body, or have a condescending, objectifying shine to them.

They're focused on me, almost as if they see me.

After a while of staring he says, “You’re no longer on your previous date. You’re with me now.”

The authority in his voice… why does it make my knees clench together? This guy is used to getting what he wants, when he wants it, I can tell. He looks dangerous, not much older than my twenty-two years, but older still. Controlling.

He is exactly what I want to avoid.

I want somebody who loves me. I'm going on dates because I'm a lover . I'm definitely not looking for a man who wants me as a shiny object on his arm, a man who looks like he can kill people with his glare. He looks like the kind of man no one will dare mess with you when you’re with him.

“What's going on here?” a voice says, making me jump. For the last few seconds, the ambient sound of the restaurant had been blocked out. He’d done that, this mysterious man before me. He’d made everything fade away.

I look up at Derek, the tech bro. Derek has classically handsome looks, but he doesn't come close to this man , who’s now leaning back in Derek’s seat like it's a throne. He has claimed it for himself now and made himself comfortable. He doesn't look up at Derek, still watching me, still studying my face curiously.

“Hello?” Derek says, snapping me out of my trance again. “What the fuck is happening here?” He turns to the mysterious man. “Dude, get the fuck out of my seat!”

It's then that the man snaps out of his own reverie. Maybe “snap” isn’t the right word, more like eases out of it. He slides his gaze languidly away from my face and up to Derek. He looks at him in a calm yet ferocious way that makes me flinch.

A feeling rises in me, like imminent disaster is about to strike, perhaps involving blood and broken bones. I want to warn Derek to leave because this man looks like he wants to commit murder. It would be stupid to keep standing there.

After a second, Derek seems to realize this. His furious stance and clenched fists seem to melt away. I see him open and close his mouth like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

This level of striking fear into another man, like this, is so... alarmingly hot.

With a final opening and closing of his mouth, Derek gives a nod and then walks away. As soon as he does, the man before me cuts his eyes back to me. The ferocity in his gaze thaws and that curiosity comes back. His gaze glides over my long black hair, lands on my hands, and then lifts back up to my face.

“What is your name?” he says.

I don't have to answer that. I don't have to keep sitting here, because this man is dangerous . And I’m dangerously idiotic. Why would I be turned on by somebody ousting another man on his date like that? I mean, it's Derek, but still. Who knows the things this man is capable of if he can scare people away with a look.

I get up. Derek may be an asshole, but at least he's not scary .

“Good evening to you,” I say to the man, and as I'm walking away after my real date, the man’s bored voice follows me.

“If you follow that man, this will be the last date he was ever on.”

I stop in my tracks, letting this threat sink in. The restaurant’s other patrons continue with their affairs, oblivious to the fact that a dangerous man who's probably killed people sits in their midst.

“What was that?” I say, turning back to look at the potential murderer, even though I heard him loud and clear.

“You better let him go,” he says, lazily, simply, “if you want him to live.” A muscle twitches in his jaw.

Stupidly, I get back to my seat, sinking down slowly.

He asks again, “What is your name?”

I could give him a fake name, but something tells me he'll know I'm lying.

“Alexandra.”

His eyes flare a little, a manic hunger lighting up his eyes.

And it's then I know he has no intention of ever letting me go. It's like I can see the future, and this man is firmly in it, a permanent fixture.

“What do you want from me? I say. “If it's sex you want, I'm not interested, I'm looking for something serious. And I think… I think I know what kind of guy you are.”

As I sat watching his interaction with Derek, I realized he could be one of those guys.

Powerful men who get their hands dirty when they want something.

“You know what kind of man I am?” he says, slight amusement painting his devastatingly handsome features. “And what kind of man is that?”

“Well…” I think if I say it out loud, it might make something go wrong in the universe. Maybe a meteor might land right on top of my head.

So I bite my tongue.

A small, devilish smile creeps on his mouth. Such a sensual mouth. I take in a sharp breath as a hot but unwanted image falls into my mind.

“Come with me,” he says, standing up with such graceful assuredness that I can't help but admire his masculinity. His scent is still hanging heavily in the air. I blame its headiness for making me feel like jelly. I blame his face and his voice, too. Everything about this man.

“Come with me, Alexandra, and I will give you the world,” he says quietly, extending a large hand to me.

As if in a trance, I take it, my small fingers being wrapped around his big palm.