He was, despite his awe-inspiring reputation, one of the few people in the world to whom Monica
felt close, which only made her realize how alienated she was from true closeness because she only
saw Daniel a couple of times a month, when they occasionally shared lunch.
Daniel …
Her eyes remained fixed on him, and her stomach warmed with every step that brought her closer to
him. He now stood with two elderly men, as Luke Preston made his way toward his fiancée.
Daniel did not miss a beat in the conversation. Monica had never seen a man so comfortable in his
own flesh. His green eyes were usually warm, sometimes even a little hot, and Monica never failed to
feel their heat when he looked or smiled at her. Reflecting on it now, she realized if she had one secret
she needed to entrust to someone in her life— anyone—she would entrust it to him. Friend. Almost …
family. Once, she might have even dreamed he could be more.
Before her parents died … before she saw how obsession, infatuation, and love could warp you.
Consume you.
No … she had closed that off years ago. But Daniel continued to be the one presence in her life she
kept helplessly coming back to. And he was perfectly alone tonight. He was never alone at this sort of
event.
But then, neither was she.
This was as good a chance as any.
“Hey, you,” Monica said softly, sliding her hand into the crook of his arm.
Daniel didn’t turn from the conversation, but he instantly stretched his arm and drew her to his side,
the motion sending a bolt of longing to her gut. Nobody ever touched her like this. Daniel was so
comfortable with her. He’d been a great brother to Chloe, and Monica had always watched them with
longing, wishing someone would shower her with affection like that.
“Monica, do you know Herbert Jameson, a good friend of my father’s?” Daniel said.
“A pleasure,” Monica said, not releasing Daniel to shake his hand. “You regularly contribute to the
Chicago Gazette, don’t you?” she asked him.
“Not if I can help it.” The old man winked.
Monica laughed, and when Daniel was approached by another elderly man intent on discussing
Daniel’s expansion plans for the year, Monica tightened her hold on him.
“Daniel,” she whispered, grateful that he instantly ducked his head and placed his ear almost at her
lips. “Please don’t leave without letting me talk to you.”
He turned to whisper back into her ear, and his warm breath and low timbre caused a strange
tightening in her tummy. “I have a better idea. Do you want to get out of here? I have a decoy car out
front and another parked out back—the paps will never know we left.”
His eyes twinkled as he drew back and surveyed her reaction, and Monica felt incredibly relieved.
They were both accustomed to the presence of reporters, accepted their obsession with all attractive
public figures with mild indifference, but sometimes, you just wanted to get away from it all. “Please,
let’s,” she said.
It took them a couple of minutes to excuse themselves separately, and then they met at the back exit
door. Daniel led her down the steps and across the service parking lot, where one striking black car
gleamed luxuriantly among the shabby white service trucks scattered all around.
“What happened to Grandpa?” he asked as he opened the passenger door.
She rolled her eyes heavenward when she realized he was referring to Roland, the man she’d been
dating for the past year, who was more … mature. “Thanks, Danny. Really. What about your nieces?”
He laughed, the rich, achingly familiar sound bringing a smile to her lips.
“Nice wheels,” she complimented as Daniel joined her in the driver’s seat, her eyes openly
admiring the red leather interior of the shiny black million-dollar car. Not everyone could afford a
Bugatti Veyron, much less dare to drive it around town. But then … he was a Lexington. The fact that
the license plate said BUG 3 only meant he also had a BUG 1 and BUG 2 parked somewhere, too.
“You all buckled up?” he asked, kicking into the street with a little spin in the back wheels. Men.
“No, but if you get too feisty behind the wheel, there’s always the eject button,” she said as she
leaned forward to unfasten her heels. She would never, ever, do this with anyone else. But she’d grown
up with Daniel. He’d seen her in far, far worse ways than anyone else she knew.
“Good one.” His grin flashed briefly, truly arresting against his sun-bronzed skin. “Where to,
princess?” Seemingly as eager as Monica to get out of his costume, he pulled off his bow tie and then