second of the day hurting for him.
Thirty minutes later, Monica’s limo pulled over in front of the Four Seasons Hotel, and once again,
she found herself entering the gala, alone. Flashes exploded around her until she was safely tucked
inside the hotel ballroom, and her heart began kicking up in speed as she looked for Daniel among the
glittering crowd.
The dramatic beat of the small live orchestra intensified her heartbeat, and suddenly every nerve
and fiber in her body clamored to be closer to him, to be touched by him, to be loved by him. Him.
He’d been inside her. He’d spilled his love all over her.
Roland would never be him. No man would. What she wanted—it was all in Daniel.
It was so clear to her now, so so clear when she saw that she could be Monica and still be strong.
Daniel could be accompanied tonight, and Monica shuddered at the thought, but suddenly she knew
that she would fight for him with the same strength she fought for everything else. She would take her
rightful place at his side no matter the price. She was at last ready to love him without fearing that
what she felt for this man could possibly do anything but make her the happiest woman on the planet.
Suddenly, she spotted him at the far end, towering over a blonde who Monica instantly recognized
as Chloe. His head was bent to her as they talked, Chloe looking up into his face and shaking her head.
Monica stopped in her tracks when she caught a sight of his profile, the shock of seeing him almost
shattering her.
I choose him, she’d said, about Roland.
Oh, God, she wanted to die for saying that to him. What had she been thinking? Did loving him
truly make her so afraid? How could being loved by a man like him be anything but uplifting and
empowering? Daniel had been nothing but gentle to her—supportive, understanding, passionate, and
open. How could feeling so good be dangerous to anyone? No. The danger would be denying it,
making mistake after mistake, trying to run away from it.
Swallowing the lump of emotion in her throat, she urged her legs to take her forward, feeling as
unsteady as her heels suddenly felt.
He had the power to destroy her.
To finish her off.
But she had to do this … was burning with the need to claim him as hers.
He’d been an adolescent crush that she had violently subdued under her strong will, but the love that
had grown those evenings when he’d held her, saying nothing to her, only listening and supporting her,
was undeniable. She’d asked him to spend time apart, so the paparazzi would stop linking them
together, she’d said. But what she’d needed was to give her heart distance from the wild attachment
she’d already had for a man who turned heads everywhere he went, whose money and power set him
up to get whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
She’d feared that she would never be enough.
But she was.
Now, more than ever, it was right for them. Their bodies had caught up to their emotions, and they
were too starved to be denied anymore. Always she’d been putting barriers between them. Distance.
Other men. Roland could’ve been a shield for Daniel. And yet Monica had danced too close to the fire,
and now she would forever come back to him, like a moth to the flame. Only Daniel could make her
burn, and yearn, and love him like this.
Dragging in a steadying breath, she started toward him, knowing with frightening certainty that it
wouldn’t be simple. She’d never be able to control him, like she had other men she dated. No, Daniel
wouldn’t be easy.
He would be hard. Harder than Davenport’s. Harder than anything she’d ever done. He’d give
everything to her, and he’d demand to be paid with the same penny.
Loving Daniel would be both the most difficult thing she’d ever done, and the easiest. And for the
first time in her life, she was ready for it.
* * *
“She’s here.”
Daniel’s insides jolted at Chloe’s words.
He’d been aware of her ever since she entered. There was a shifting in the air, an altering in his
senses. He hadn’t even turned yet, but a simmering tension lay beneath his muscles, and he was nearly
breaking the champagne flute in his hand. Dragging in a deep breath, he set it down on a nearby table
and clenched his hands at his sides, already jealous of whoever stood at her side, already desperate to
pound the man’s face in until he was unrecognizable to his own kin.
“Just don’t punch anybody here, all right, Danny?” Chloe said, as if reading his mind.
He spoke under his breath. “I don’t know how I’ll react, Chlo, if I see her with him.”
The detective had given Monica the information he’d found about Roland, but Daniel still didn’t