Page 5 of The Owner's Temptation

He spots me almost immediately and beelines straight for me, his smarmy grin making my stomach turn.

The closer he gets, the more my stomach clenches. Ialreadyknow where this is going.

"Enjoying the party?" he asks, sliding up beside me like he belongs here. His tone is easy, conversational—too casual.

He’s trying to make this look natural.

It’s not.

I take a deliberate step back, but he mirrors it immediately, maintaining the space like he owns it.

I school my face into polite indifference, nodding. "Yeah, it’s nice."

He hums, taking a sip of his beer, eyes scanning the VIP lounge like he’s just anotherguy hanging out—like heisn’tactivelyhemming me inwith his presence.

"You know," he muses, his voice taking on that fakewe’re-both-in-on-the-joketone, "I’ve been meaning to talk to you outside the office. Things at Everline are… shifting. Some positions are opening up."

His eyes flick back to mine, just for a second. Calculating.

"I think you’d be a great fit for somethingmore," he adds, voice dipping suggestively, his eyes doing the same.

I know exactly what he’s doing.

The bait is to make it sound like an opportunity.

The hook, however, implies there’s a favor attached.

The unspoken?If you play along, maybe I can make things easier for you.

I can’tprovehe’s outright suggesting anything sleazy, but theimplicationis heavy enough to make my skin crawl.

I keep my expression neutral, giving the world’s mostnoncommittalnod. "I’m sure a lot of people would be interested but Everline is not exactly where my career ambitions live."

Steve chuckles, shaking his head like I just said somethingadorable.

And then—he steps closer.

Too close.

Ifeelhis body heat and on instinct slide down the bar, trying to keep that distance between us.

The scent of cheap aftershave and beer wafts over me, as his fingers trail down my bare arm—slow, deliberate, testing. “I can see us–”

Ohhellno.

A chill races down my spine, and every muscle in my body locks up.

“Don’t touch me.”

I jerk my arm away so fast that the drink in my hand sloshes over my fingers—splashing against the front of his tan dress pants.

A dark stain spreads across his crotch.

"What the fuck, Sienna?!"

The outrage in his voice would be hilarious if I weren’tso pissed.

I roll my eyes and look across the dance floor, searching for the bathrooms so I can just go find Harper.

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