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.

Why should she thank him in

teeth, and retracted her foot, only to stomp down

winced, pain shooting up even to his heart. Lifting his foot, he tried to assess the damage to his big toe,

discomfort; leaving was the best choice for everyone's sake. Alaric, ignoring his pain, hurried after

ware from their guests, of Hertha

of the hotel, looking for a

opted for a cab to the wedding, knowing parking would be a nightmare with the guest liste Spotting an approaching taxi she waved it

pulled up and she reached for the door, someone grabbed her wrist, pulling her back as the door slammed shut. Turning, she

taxi driver, annoyed, asked, "Are you getting

the cab. We've got

unfazed,