A tingle ran down the back of Elaina’s neck. Danger.
Danger here, among humans? Not likely.
She searched the ballroom for hidden threats. Tapestries on either side of an alcove caught her eye, where a red and bronze dragon confronted a knight brandishing a sword. Her fingernails sharpened into points. Well, that was...
Disturbing. But not dangerous.
No, she was probably just off-kilter because of the way that man, Alexander Wyatt, had stared at her. Could he know she didn’t belong? Or had the assistant at his side identified her? Between her hair color change and her attempt to remain unobtrusive during the meeting with Stefano, she’d assumed Mr. Wyatt’s assistant wouldn’t recognize her.
It didn’t matter. She needed more treasure to stay alive. Period. Giving up this opportunity wasn’t an option.
If only her father wasn’t obsessed with making her his next victim, she wouldn’t be in this mess, having to live among humans and use up all her energy to evade him. It wasn’t as though she’d snatched the most prized item from his collection for her Zìwǒ rite of passage.
Oh, wait. That’s exactly what she’d done.
But he’d started it by threatening her in the first place. And now she didn’t have a choice if she wanted to survive to tomorrow, much less to next week.
Besides, she could handle a little danger. If she let her instincts have any say, it might even be fun.
Just in case though, she concentrated on the biggest prize first. Her internal precious metal and gem detector sensed an opal and diamond pendant in the room. Probably the same necklace she’d seen the governor’s wife wearing in pictures from other occasions. Perfect.
She aimed for the jewelry, but before she moved a foot, a warm hand caught her elbow and squeezed. Uh-oh.
The tingle she’d felt earlier intensified and, more surprisingly, carried a wave of valuable heat through her body, halting the shivers of her heart. She resisted the urge to move closer and instead calmly confronted the danger.
The host of the party stood beside her. “Excuse me, I don’t believe we’ve met.” He released her and extended his hand. “I’m Alexander Wyatt.”
Her breath hitched at the sudden loss of warmth. Money-fueled power flowed around him like an aura, and his deep, resonant voice compelled her to meet his steel-gray eyes.
The magazine covers hadn’t done justice to his appearance. On the surface, he looked younger than his thirty-one years, but the intensity of his gaze made him seem old enough to have witnessed her father’s birth. His styled mahogany-brown hair and custom-tailored tux would turn heads even in a GQ spread. Come to think of it, he’d probably been on that cover too.
And in his pocket, diamonds—lots and lots of them. Her fingers twitched at the torture. So close and yet so impossible to acquire.
Power, looks, gems. Wow. Humans had never interested her before, but this one...
Dizziness swirled her thoughts, and she grasped his outstretched hand despite having perfect balance all her life. Lost in the whirlpool of his stare and the warmth of his touch, she forgot everything.
Except her name. Her real name.
“I’m Elaina Drake,” she heard herself saying.
Her words echoed in her mind, and she recoiled, knees wobbling. Her chest caved with a sudden inability to breathe. What the hell had she done? Ten years of fake-ID anonymity broken by three little words spoken by an idiot. An absolute idiot.
She yanked her hand away. Exit. Where was the damn exit?
He tilted his head, chasing her gaze. “Are you looking for someone?”
She stretched her fingers and forced her nails to reform into a shape less noticeable than their current points. He hadn’t come to escort her off his property for crashing the party, so there was no need to panic—and certainly no need to freak out about her reaction to this human male.
Time to play nice rather than draw more attention to her presence. The faster she got away, the faster he’d forget her name, and the faster she could return to her hunt.
She went for blasé. “No, I’m just deciding where to start.”
His grin that surfaced, broad and triumphant, could knock at least twenty IQ points off any woman’s ability to think clearly. Liquid pooled in her mouth, and she nearly choked at the unfamiliar sensation. Her piecemeal self-education on human society—browsing the front covers at newsstands, reading the merchandise when she’d worked at a comic book shop, and various menial odd jobs—hadn’t prepared her for this reaction from her body.
He offered his arm. “If you don’t know everyone here, I’d be honored to make introductions, Elaina. May I call you that?”
“Yes, I mean, no.” A quiet hiss escaped through her clenched teeth. Damn it, her danger-junkie instincts were not helping. She had to get away from him before she completely lost her head. Not to mention what little remained of her security blanket of anonymity. “That’s not necessary, Mr. Wyatt.”
“I insist.”
He placed her hand over the crook of his elbow. His touch shocked her skin again, and a similar reaction glinted in his eyes.
He dipped his head to hers. “And please, call me Alex.”
The quiet rumble of his voice sent shivers over her body, but the warmth of his touch strengthened the beat of her heart.
Once more, she succumbed to him. “Thank you, Alex.”
The glow of victory in his expression was unmistakable.
He was dangerous all right.
Very, very dangerous.
Alex couldn’t help staring at the woman on his arm. She was even more gorgeous up close. And she smelled intoxicating, like an exotic blend of incense. The unusual fragrance complemented the slight foreign lilt of her accent, which he couldn’t quite place. Eastern European maybe? Intriguing.
He stroked her fingers hooked over his elbow and savored the sensation of her skin. Sleek and lustrous as silk, the feel of her body spurred his fantasies into a gallop.
He would possess her.
A part of his brain sounded more alarms at the direction of his thoughts. Conquering? Possessing? That was too close to his father’s modus operandi.
He blew off the warning. It had been too long since he’d been with a woman—and never one this attractive. The testosterone overload seemed darker simply because of his vow not to follow in the bastard’s footsteps.
He wasn’t his father. He still had his self-control, his constant companion.
It wasn’t as if he was going to drag her out of the ballroom caveman-style. Probably.
He introduced her to the group clustered around Chicago’s mayor. She stiffened when he said her name, as though inexperienced with being presented. By the time he was done with her, she’d be a pro.
The mayor’s enthusiasm for Alex’s new foundation gave him hope that he’d have the crowd’s support. At a lull in the conversation, he excused them and steered Elaina toward several of his board members huddled near the string quartet. She tugged on his forearm after a few feet.
“Mr. Wyatt—” He raised a brow, and she huffed. “Alex. I’m quite capable of entertaining myself. You have a roomful of guests. You shouldn’t concern yourself with me.”
She glanced toward the doorway and shifted away from him. He tightened his elbow against his ribs, holding her hand hostage.
Sure, he was out of practice, but a woman had never before itched to escape his presence. His internal guide to women made several suggestions. A few were even appropriate for public venues. Flattery had always worked in the past—that was worth a try.
“Perhaps I wanted the most beautiful woman in the room on my arm tonight.”
Her gaze snapped back to him, and she recoiled. Not the reaction he’d hoped for.
“How ironic.” She laughed, the hollow sound stomping on his intentions. “That I should be nothing but an ornament to you.”
“No!”
The mayor silenced behind them, and others nearby stared. He led her away from the spotlight of the scene and stopped at a clearing between groups.
“I meant to compliment you.” How could his praise be such a blunder as to be ironic? He’d apparently become far too cynical to predict multifaceted women. “Plenty of women here would be eager to hang on my arm. I assumed you’d welcome my attention.”
The tips of her mouth twitched up. “I’m not like other women.”
In other words, not a gold-digger. He couldn’t help a grin. “Obviously. That confirms why you belong at my side.”
Her eyes brightened, and she stood on tiptoe, placing her lips near his ear. Heat sped through his body in a race with his heartbeat.
“Maybe your name should be Lex instead of Alex.” Her sultry whisper sounded more resonant than a feminine voice like hers should.
He pulled back and gave her a questioning look.
Her tone took on a shrewd edge. “As in, Lex Luthor. A filthy rich man who pretends to be nice with his charitable donations, and all the while he manipulates everything around him because he’s used to getting his way.”
His stomach sank, and just like that, he’d gotten his wish—someone had recognized him as an irredeemable fraud. Only now, he wished the truth had come from anyone but her.
His jaw must have dropped, because she pushed up his chin, closing his mouth. She slipped her hand from his elbow, but stroked her fingertips along his wrist.
“It’s too bad the circumstances aren’t different. I might have liked you.”
A click on the marble floor from her heels accompanied each stride that took her away. The flutters of her dress drew his eye until he lost her in the crowd.
He stood there, off balance and disoriented. Had he really struck out with her? Or was she teasing him?
At the thought, he couldn’t decide if he found her body or her mind more attractive. This was a woman who could match him for the relationship equivalent of a fair fight.
All he knew was that he would not—no matter what—allow himself to chase after her.
Yet.