One night with my untouchable CEO(2)

ISABELLA

“No.”

I stared at Adrian for a moment, wondering whether that single word meant he had enjoyed my kiss or was simply too shocked to form a complete sentence.

Then I smiled. “Oh, thank goodness, because I was beginning to worry that I’d forgotten how to kiss.”

His eyebrows lifted as he looked down at me. “Do you make a habit of kissing strangers?”

“Only exceptionally handsome ones, and you’re the first I’ve encountered tonight.”

“How unfortunate for me.”

I gasped, pretending to be offended, but his mouth twitched as though he was fighting a smile, and that tiny movement delighted me far more than it should have.

“Wait a minute! Did you almost smile?”

“No.”

“You did, Adrian! I saw it.”

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re a handsome grouch, so I suppose we all have our problems.”

He shook his head, although his hands remained at my waist, and I found myself wondering why he hadn’t moved away from me yet. Most men would have taken my boldness as an invitation to show off, but Adrian seemed genuinely bewildered by our closeness, as though he couldn’t decide whether to kiss me again or demand an explanation for my existence.

I was perfectly happy with either option.

The music from the ballroom grew louder as a group of guests passed through the corridor, and I grimaced when someone accidentally knocked against my shoulder.

“Can we go somewhere quieter?” I asked, rubbing my temple. “Because if that music gets any louder, my brain is going to resign.”

Adrian glanced toward the elevators before looking back at me. “There’s a hotel room upstairs where you can rest, but you should drink some water first.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you inviting me to your room, handsome?”

“I’m offering you somewhere quiet to sit down.”

“Of course you are,” I replied with a grin, because watching him struggle to maintain his serious expression was quickly becoming my favorite activity.

He studied my face for a moment before asking, “Do you actually want to come upstairs?”

I appreciated the question, even through the champagne fog, so I nodded. “Yes, but only if you promise to stop looking at me as though I’m a particularly difficult mathematics problem.”

“I make no promises.”

“Terrible answer.”

Nevertheless, he offered me his arm, and I slipped mine through it as we walked toward the elevators. He stayed close enough to steady me when my heels betrayed me again, although I noticed that he stiffened whenever another guest came too near.

I wondered about it, but I was far too distracted by the handsome man beside me to investigate.

When the elevator doors closed, I looked up at him and smiled.

“So, Adrian, are you always this serious, or did somebody steal your happiness when you were a child?”

His expression changed so quickly that my smile faltered.

For a moment, something dark passed through his eyes, but he looked away before I could understand what I had seen.

“Let’s not discuss my childhood.”

I nodded, sensing that I had accidentally touched a sensitive subject, and decided to leave it alone.

“Fine, but I’m still calling you a grouch.”

“You’re remarkably determined to irritate me.”

“And you’re remarkably easy to irritate.”

The elevator doors opened before he could respond, and I followed him into a luxurious suite overlooking the glittering city.

I kicked off my heels beside the door and sighed with such dramatic relief that Adrian stopped to stare at me.

“Those shoes are evil,” I informed him. “I’m certain they were designed by someone who hates women.”

He shook his head and handed me a bottle of water, which I accepted gratefully before settling onto the edge of the enormous bed.

“Thank you,” I said, taking several sips. “See? I can be polite when I want to be.”

“An astonishing discovery.”

I laughed, and he loosened his tie before removing his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt that stretched neatly across his broad shoulders.

Unfortunately, my brain immediately abandoned every sensible thought it had been attempting to form.

Adrian caught me staring and raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just appreciating the view.”

“Is that what you call staring?”

“Would you prefer that I close my eyes? Because I don’t think either of us would enjoy that.”

He gave me a look that should have been intimidating, but I was too busy admiring his face to feel threatened.

Then he stepped closer and brushed a loose strand of hair away from my cheek, and I instinctively leaned into his palm.

His fingers stopped moving.

I looked at him, confused by the sudden tension in his expression, before covering his hand with mine.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied, although his voice sounded less certain than before.

I studied him for a moment, but when he didn’t elaborate, I smiled and pressed my cheek more comfortably against his palm.

“Well, whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me tonight.”

He stared at me as though nobody had ever offered him that simple courtesy, and the intensity of his gaze made my stomach flutter.

Then he bent down and kissed me.

This time, I smiled against his mouth before wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and he drew me closer with a hesitation that gradually gave way to something warmer. When I ran my fingers through his hair, he inhaled sharply, but he didn’t pull away, and I began to suspect that the serious man in front of me was hiding far more than a terrible personality.

We spent the next hour trading kisses and teasing remarks, with Adrian occasionally pretending to be annoyed whenever I laughed at him, although he always seemed to find another reason to kiss me before I could finish making fun of him.

Eventually, I curled against his chest beneath the sheets, exhausted from the party and the champagne, while he rested one arm carefully around my waist.

“Adrian?” I murmured sleepily.

“Hmm?”

“You’re still a grouch.”

“And you’re still talking.”

I laughed against his chest, and when his hand settled gently against my back, I closed my eyes with a smile.

“Goodnight, handsome.”

He was quiet for a moment before answering, “Goodnight, Isabella.”

I fell asleep believing that the night would become nothing more than an amusing story to tell Chloe, and I had absolutely no idea that the man holding me had never felt this comfortable with another person’s touch.

…..

ADRIAN

I woke the next morning feeling strangely rested, and for several seconds, I couldn’t understand why the warmth beside me seemed more important than the sunlight spilling across the room.

Then I remembered Isabella.

I turned my head and found the other side of the bed empty.

At first, I assumed she was in the bathroom, so I waited while staring at the closed door, but when several minutes passed without any sign of her, I got up and checked the sitting area.

She was nowhere to be found.

Her shoes and bag had disappeared, and the only evidence that she had spent the night with me was the faint scent of vanilla lingering on the pillows.

I picked up my phone, expecting to find a message or perhaps a number she had left behind, but there was nothing.

She had actually left without saying goodbye.

I should have been relieved because I had spent years ensuring that nobody could get close enough to make me feel vulnerable, yet the empty room irritated me in a way I couldn’t explain.

I wanted to know where she had gone, why she had left so quietly, and whether she had regretted kissing me.

More importantly, I wanted to understand why her touch had felt different from everyone else’s.

I had allowed her to hold my face, run her fingers through my hair, and fall asleep against my chest without experiencing the panic that had controlled my life for years, and I couldn’t simply dismiss that as an ordinary encounter.

I called the front desk and asked whether anyone had recorded the woman’s name or contact information, but they explained that they couldn’t provide another guest’s private details.

After ending the call, I stood beside the bed and stared at the empty space where she had slept.

I didn’t even know her surname, and I had no number to call, yet I knew with unsettling certainty that I wasn’t going to forget her.

I had spent years avoiding the touch of other people, but one night with Isabella Hart had left me wanting something I had never allowed myself to want before.

Another chance, and I intended to find her.