He’d always been protective of her. Especially after what happened with her parents. When he went
to change his clothes, Monica received an alert that the cab was outside, and she wrote him a text that
read: Thanks. I needed that. MD
On her way home, she stared out the window at the twinkling city lights, feeling like the entire
weight of Chicago had been lifted off her shoulders.
And was now sitting strangely in her throbbing, still-wet sex.
Chapter Two
Daniel hit the gym with particular relish the next day. He was sleepless, grumpy; every muscle in his
body was tight with tension as he rammed his duffel into his locker and hung his suit on the hook
inside the door. His cock hurt, his chest hurt, his fucking pride hurt.
He needed to kick the shit out of himself, and might even need a good run after his swim. He was so
fucking wound up, he couldn’t imagine going to Tritech, sitting in his fucking CEO chair, in this
fucking state. Tritech was a massive conglomerate headquartered in Chicago, which controlled a
diverse range of businesses from pharmaceuticals to tech innovations and electronics.
A typical day in Tritech was busy as hell, including meetings with the board, his chiefs of
operations, and managers. A company Tritech’s size was either in expansion mode, or contraction—
and Daniel always tried to make sure it was the former. But it would be pretty damn hard to keep his
head in the game when every muscle in his body was wound as tight as a coiled spring.
He glanced around, grateful he was alone. A group of billionaires reserved exclusivity in the
premises, an hour in the morning, another in the evening, so he was thankfully solo as he hopped into
his swim trunks before training in the Olympic-sized pool today.
“Rough night?”
Daniel raised his head to find Luke Preston grinning. He was in running gear, his diamond studs
glinting. “I saw you leave with the Ice Maiden last night,” he said.
Daniel’s chest tightened. Monica.
Daniel’s and Monica’s parents had been close. Too close. They’d grown up together, even went to
Cannes and St. Moritz together. Monica could’ve been another sister to him and yet, he’d never seen
her like a sister. She’d been … Monica.
Completely unique to Daniel.
Not compartmentalized into a sexual partner, a sister, a friend, she seemed to be the entire gray area
of his life … somehow blending into every aspect, but never fully there. But last night he’d had his
fingers in her pussy. Holy God.
He slammed his locker door shut. “Yeah. So.”
“Peyton said she’d never actually seen Monica Davenport drool. She was looking at you, dude.”
Because she wants me to be her fuck buddy, he thought in annoyance.
“I can’t see why you haven’t slept with that woman,” Luke said.
“Because we’re friends.” His instinct to protect her was too great to tell anyone about last night.
“So?” Luke prompted.
“You’re my friend, Luke. Do you see me trying to get in bed with you?”
“Ignoring the fact that I hail from Mars, dude, I happen to be male. ”
“I don’t want Monica like that,” Daniel lied.
But his chest cramped painfully once again as he remembered the way she’d looked last night at the
ballroom. God, she was as stunning as a star. Monica had always appealed to his protective side. Hell,
to all of his sides. But last night, the sight of her walking into the party without anyone attached to her
had filled Daniel’s roiling chest with unexpected relief.
She’d been dressed impeccably in an ivory gown that only enhanced the lovely sable shade of her
hair, and she’d worn it drawn in a classic bun to reveal her patrician features. Her skin had been as
flawless as the large and precisely round ivory pearls she wore on her ears. There had been nothing
about her—there never was—that was out of place. The Ice Maiden, the press called her.
But she was never cold with him.
All during the night, Daniel had replayed the way she’d walked inside and looked straight at him as
though he were the apple of her eye. The warmth in her gaze when she saw him would have alerted to
anyone looking that there was more to this woman than ice. But that smile, that warmth, was only for
him.
Even now, he could still feel the delighted shock of her hand slipping into the crook of his arm. His
entire system had zapped in recognition when he heard her light, airy, “Hey, you…”
Just that small touch of her hand had made him want to pull her closer. At five foot seven, Monica
was not a petite woman, but compared to Daniel’s six foot three, she was fragile and delicate.
Rarely did either of them venture out alone to these sorts of black-tie events. It caused too much