Page 97 of Sexting the Boss

She belongs in this world—her diamond earrings, her sleek dress, her perfect posture.

She looks like someone Damien should be with.

Someone who fits.

And I?

I am not that.

I sip my champagne, staring at the golden liquid, willing myself not to care.

“You ran away.”

I stiffen.

I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him.

A second later, Damien steps beside me.

I keep my gaze on my drink. “I thought you were busy being charitable.”

I don’t mean for it to come out snippy, but it does.

Damien chuckles lowly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, printsessa.”

I roll my eyes, taking another sip. “I don’t even know who she is.”

“She’s an old…acquaintance.”

I glance at him, raising a brow. “Acquaintance?”

Damien smirks, but it’s not amused. “We used to be involved,” he says, watching my reaction.

I keep my face carefully blank. “How involved?”

His eyes darken slightly. “She wanted to marry me.”

I nearly choke on my champagne. “Oh.”

He watches me for another beat before adding, “I didn’t.”

That makes something in my stomach unclench.

Not that it should matter.

I clear my throat, focusing on absolutely nothing.

“She’s more your type,” I say after a pause. “Beautiful, rich, well-connected. Looks great in a ball gown.”

Damien turns slightly, angling his body closer to mine.

His voice is low when he speaks. “You look better.”

I blink up at him, my breath catching for just a second.

Damien’s gaze lingers on me, dark and unreadable, and I feel like my skin is burning under his attention.

But before either of us can say anything else, a new voice cuts through the noise of the gala. “Damien.”

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