The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

The warmth tickled Hertha's neck, making her instinctively shrink back. The breeze that brushed against her skin left a tingling sensation, like an electric current zipping straight through her heart. Without thinking, she stepped forward, only to realize that while her legs had moved, her upper body hadn't budged. She found herself wrapped in a firm embrace, leaning against a solid chest. The arms around her shoulders were strong and reassuring.

Hertha turned her head sharply, locking eyes with Alaric's amused and captivating gaze. She had been furious, but the sight of his devilishly handsome face and that irresistible charm sent a shiver down her spine.

Damn it, why did Alaric have to be so infuriatingly attractive? Anger had fueled her moments ago, but now, it had vanished, almost ensnared by his allure.

And then there were his words, so laden with innuendo they were begging for a retort.

What did he mean by "how she would thank him tonight"?

The implication was unsettling.

wasn't the point. Why should she thank him

the flutter in her heart, gritted her teeth, and retracted her foot, only to stomp down

tried to assess the damage to his big toe, but his dress shoe concealed any injury. Taking advantage

over. Staying further would only cause discomfort; leaving was the best

were basking in the ware

stepped out of the hotel, looking

opted for a cab to the wedding, knowing parking would be a

grabbed her wrist, pulling her back as the

"Are you

a gesture, "Sorry, we won't be needing the cab. We've got our own

unfazed, drove