CHAPTER 2

The heat of the afternoon sun was nothing compared to the slow-burning fuse lit deep within Orion’s chest. As he navigated the manicured lawn, his presence acted like a tidal wave, parting the sea of socialites and businessmen. People reached out to touch his sleeve, to offer a handshake, or to pitch an idea to the youngest CEO to ever dominate the national market, but Orion moved past them with the single-minded focus of a heat-seeking missile.

He was a giant among men 6’4” of hardened muscle and calculated grace. To his parents, he was the cherished son, the golden boy who had exceeded every expectation. To the world, he was the Greek god in a three-piece suit. But as he drew closer to the floral trellis where Noah was standing, he felt like a prey masquerading in fine linen.

Noah was laughing. It was a sound like silver bells, soft and melodic, lacking any of the jagged edges that defined Orion’s world.

Noah was tucked into the shadow of a large oak tree, looking up at Marcus—Orion’s father’s best friend. From this distance, the height difference was agonizingly perfect. Noah, at 5’4”, had to tilt his head back, exposing the long, elegant line of his porcelain neck. His fluffy brown hair was slightly tousled by the breeze, and his doe eyes were bright with a shy, fluttering hope.

To anyone else, Noah looked like a pretty man. To Orion, Noah looked like a masterpiece of feminine curves trapped in the wrong gender. The silk of Noah’s shirt was thin, and as he shifted his weight, it clung to the full, soft swell of his chest—a chest that had no business being that shapely on a man. His waist was narrow, cinched by a leather belt that served only to emphasize the sudden, dramatic flare of his hips and the heavy, soft bounce of his backside.

Noah was the definition of soft. And right now, that softness was being offered up to Marcus.

"You really think so, Marcus?" Noah asked, his voice a soft-spoken breath. He reached out, his small, delicate hand briefly brushing Marcus’s forearm. "I’ve always wanted to see the galleries in Paris, but I’ve never had anyone to go with..."

The implication hung in the air, thick and sweet. Noah was pining, his innocent heart practically thumping against his ribs.

Then, the sun went out.

Or at least, that’s how it felt to Noah as a massive shadow swallowed him whole. A heavy, warm weight settled on the small of his back,a hand so large it seemed to span the entire width of his waist.

"Uncle Noah," a deep, vibrating baritone rumbled from behind him.

Noah jumped, his wide hips swaying with the sudden movement, and he turned to look up... and up. He blinked, his long lashes fluttering as he met the intense, dark eyes of his nephew.

"Oh! Orion! You scared me, sweetheart," Noah chirped, his face splitting into a radiant, oblivious smile. He reached up, standing on his tiptoes to affectionately pat Orion’s cheek. The contrast was startling: Noah’s small, pale hand against Orion’s tan, rugged jawline. "I didn't even see you stalking over here. You’re just getting bigger every day, aren't you? A regular giant."

Orion didn't flinch, though his pulse hammered against the palm of Noah’s hand. He felt the phantom itch of his tattoos beneath his shirt, a restless energy that wanted to claim the space between them.

"I’m the same size I was at breakfast, Noah," Orion said, his voice dropping an octave. He didn't move his hand from Noah’s waist. Instead, his thumb made a slow, deliberate circle against the soft curve of Noah’s hip, hidden from Marcus’s view by their positioning.

"Marcus," Orion acknowledged, his gaze shifting to his father’s friend. It wasn't a friendly look. It was the look of a CEO evaluating a competitor and finding him lacking. "I believe my father was looking for you in the cigar lounge. Something about the merger?"

Marcus, a man who usually held his own, felt the inexplicable urge to straighten his tie. Orion had that effect on people; he radiated a natural, born dominance that made other men feel small.

"Right, right. The merger," Marcus said, offering Noah a polite, slightly distracted smile. "We’ll finish our talk later, Noah? Paris is lovely in the autumn."

Noah’s face lit up. "I’d love that!"

As Marcus walked away, Orion’s grip tightened just a fraction, not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor Noah in place.

"You shouldn't bother Marcus with your travel dreams, Noah," Orion said, his tone smooth as velvet but cold as ice. "He’s a busy man."

Noah pouted, a gesture that made his lips look incredibly lush and pink. He turned fully toward Orion, completely unaware of the possessive fire burning in the younger man’s eyes. To Noah, Orion was still the sweet little boy who used to follow him around, now he just happened to be a 6'4" titan.

"I wasn't bothering him! He was being very sweet," Noah insisted, huffing a bit so that his fluffy fringe bounced. He reached out and adjusted Orion’s tie, his small fingers fumbling with the silk right beneath Orion’s chin. "You’re always so serious, Orion. You work too hard. You’re the country’s most eligible bachelor, you know! You should be out there flirting with those lovely girls your mother pointed out, not hovering over your old uncle."

Orion looked down at the top of Noah’s head. From this angle, he could see the delicate whorl of hair and the way Noah’s ears turned pink when he got excited. The "sunshine" of the party was happening all around them, his sister was laughing nearby, his parents were clinking glasses, but for Orion, the world had narrowed down to this 5’4” contradiction of a man.

"I’m not interested in those girls," Orion said, his voice thick.

Noah laughed, a bubbly, innocent sound. He patted Orion’s chest, his palm flat against the hard, muscular pec that could have been carved from marble. "Such a picky boy! Well, I suppose a Greek god needs a goddess, hmm? But don't be too picky, or you'll end up lonely like me."

Noah sighed, his shoulders drooping, which only made his chest look fuller. "I just wish Marcus would look at me the way he looks at his business contracts. With focus."

Orion’s eyes turned predatory. The irony was almost physical. Noah was pining for focus from a man who barely saw him, while he was being hunted by a man who saw nothing else.

"Maybe you're looking in the wrong direction for focus, Noah," Orion whispered.

"Hmm? What was that, dear?" Noah asked, tilting his head. "Oh, look! Your sister is starting the cake! Come on, Orion, you know how she gets if we aren't there to cheer for her."

Noah grabbed Orion’s massive hand with his own small, soft one, tugging on him with all his might. To anyone watching, it was a sweet scene: the tiny, feminine uncle leading his "cherished" giant of a nephew toward the family festivities.

But as Orion followed, his hand engulfed Noah’s, his fingers lacing through the soft, porcelain digits. He watched the way Noah’s wide hips swayed beneath the silk of his trousers, the bouncy gait that was entirely too provocative for a man who claimed to be innocent.

Orion didn't say another word. He let himself be led. He was a patient hunter, and he had been obsessed since he was a child. He could wait a little longer. He would let Noah play at being the sweet uncle and the innocent piner.

But as they reached the table, Orion leaned down, his breath ghosting over Noah’s sensitive ear.

"You look very pretty today, Noah. That shirt... it suits you."

Noah beamed, his doe eyes shimmering with pure, platonic affection. "Thank you, Orion! You always were such a sweet boy."

Orion just smiled a dark, dominant curve of the lips that Noah, in his blissful ignorance, didn't recognize for what it truly was.