Chapter two

# Matthew

The song was ending but I sure as hell wasn't ready to let go. To think I didn't even want to attend the ceremony—now I had myself wishing I had come earlier so I could drink in the beauty of this goddess.

Carlos was burning holes in the back of my head. I could feel his eyes from across the room. He was probably wondering why I was dancing with my target.

Because that's what Mia Patel was supposed to be. A target. A means to an end.

She worked for Benjamin, the owner of the company I wanted to make mine. But according to my sources, she was the real brain. Jenson was the face, but Mia made the calls.

The plan was simple. Offer her enough money to make her disappear. If that failed, threaten her. Make her boss fold. Easy.

But then I saw her.

From across the room. Black dress. No smile. Arms crossed. She didn't look impressed with anyone, and I liked that too much.

Carlos had laughed. "Who wears black to a wedding?"

Mia Patel does.

And now I couldn't stop saying her name in my head. Mia. Over and over.

It wasn't the name that sounded so good. It was her. It was at that point I knew she was going to be more.

I had no idea what role she would play next. But every plan I came in with had already been scrapped.

She walked like she didn't care who watched. She dressed like she didn't want attention. Modest clothes, but nothing on earth could hide those curves.

I tried not to stare. Tried to stop my mind from going there. Failed.

I hoped Carlos didn't notice the groan that slipped out when I imagined her without the dress. Or the way my cock was straining against my trousers. Fuck, Matthew, control yourself.

Focus.

I told myself that. Over and over. Still, my feet moved without permission. I was walking toward her before I even made the decision.

Then I stopped.

Her sister reached her first. The bride. Pretty, but nothing like Mia.

There was a moment. Mia's neutral expression softened. Her walls dropped. For her sister, at least. Her eyes shifted toward the groom more than once. I saw the way her brows pulled tight. She didn't trust him. Good. She was smart.

Her sister pulled her toward the dance floor. I almost cursed. Then I watched, stunned, as the bride let go. Fast. Careless.

Mia stumbled.

Straight into my chest.

I didn't move. Didn't breathe.

She smelled spicy. Warm. Her body fit against mine like we had done this a hundred times.

I had no plans of letting go.

"Dance with me."

The words left my mouth before I thought them through.

She looked up. Blue eyes locked on mine. She studied me. Took her time. I let her. I wanted her to. It gave me the excuse to stare right back.

Her face was flawless. Smooth skin with a warm glow. High cheekbones. Full pouty lips. Long lashes that framed those striking eyes. And her hair—deep red, rich like fire and wine. It fell in soft waves down her back, catching the light with every shift of her head.

Her body was impossible to ignore. Lush curves that she didn't flaunt but couldn't hide. The dress didn't cling, but it knew where to stop.

Then she blinked. Pulled back.

I didn't let go.

My hand on her waist tightened. Not forceful. Firm.

She hesitated. Then she stopped resisting. She let me hold her.

I shifted closer. One hand stayed on her waist. The other held hers. We started to move.

Slow.

Steady.

Our rhythm was perfect. She let her body press gently into mine. It took a lot of effort to not pull her tighter and kiss her senseless or take her somewhere private and ravish her. Instead I adjusted, holding her like I'd done it before. Ignoring my greedy dick.

We moved in sync. Each step timed. She breathed in. I felt it through her chest. Her fingers tightened slightly around mine. Her cheek brushed my shoulder.

I didn't speak. I didn't need to.

The world around us faded.

As the song ended, she snapped back.

The softness in her eyes disappeared. Her body stiffened. She pulled away like the last few minutes hadn't happened.

"Excuse me," she said. Her voice was cold. Measured.

I didn't stop her. Not this time.

"Matthew," I said.

She paused. Looked at me. No emotion on her face. Like I was furniture.

But her eyes gave her away. They widened just a little. She was caught off guard.

"My name is Matthew," I repeated, quieter.

She studied me for a second.

Then, "Mia Patel," she said flatly. Then she turned and walked away.

Well, that went great.

I stood there, still as stone, watching her leave. I fought the urge to let my eyes drop to stare at her ass. Barely won that fight.

She lit something in me. I didn't expect it. I didn't want it. But it was there now. Sharp. Demanding.

No, this wasn't the end of the night.

She walked away. But I wasn't done. Not even close.

I walked back toward Carlos.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked the moment I got close.

Sometimes the guy blurred the line between subordinate and brother. He was both, but he could not be both at the same time.

I kept my face still. "Nothing. Just getting to know my target."

"Oh really? With the way you were devouring her with your eyes, what am I, Matthew Five?"

He dragged a hand through his hair. He did that every time he was frustrated.

"Look," I said, voice low, "I may have gotten a little sidetracked. But I know what I'm doing. I still have my shit together."

"I doubt it," he muttered under his breath.

I shot him a glare that said shut the fuck up.

The problem was, I wasn't sure if he was wrong.