A BILLIONAIRE'S PROMISE
And behind her, emerging from the elevator with his hand on her elbow, was Xander.
He was wearing the suit from the night they'd met—the dark one that made his eyes look like emeralds. His hair was neat, his jaw clean-shaven, his expression composed. He looked exactly like the man she'd first seen across that crowded ballroom, the Ice King in his natural habitat.
And he was touching Isabella.
It wasn't a lovers' touch. It was just his hand on her elbow, guiding her, the way a gentleman might guide any woman. But to Ella, sitting in the lobby with six days of silence crushing her chest, it felt like a knife.
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