Page 14 of Reckless Temptation

Feeling a surge of anger on Xavier's behalf, I can't hold back, "Maybe if fairness had been a priority, it wouldn't have come to that."

My father’s eyes flash with annoyance. "I did what any businessman would do. Sterling just couldn't handle the way the industry works."

My retort is sharper than intended. "Maybe he's not the person you paint him to be. Maybe there's more to him." My voice rises with a defensive edge that I didn't anticipate.

My mother's eyes search mine, myriad questions swirling in her gaze. She's always had this uncanny ability to read me, to sense when something's amiss. "Isabelle," she begins gently, "Is there something else going on?"

Flustered, I reply, "It's just a project, Mom. Nothing more."

But as I say the words, even I don't entirely believe them. There's an underlying current between Xavier and me, an uncharted territory that I've been hesitant to explore. My mother seems to sense this, her eyes never leaving mine.

I shift uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "Can we not do this here?" I whisper, hoping to steer the conversation away from the increasingly fraught topic.

She nods, though I can tell she's not entirely convinced. "Alright, darling. But remember, there are few things more complex than the human heart. Be careful."

Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy. As if drawn by an invisible force, Xavier confidently strides across the ballroom floor toward us, his presence unmistakable. The hum of conversation around us fades as if the very air is being sucked out of the room in anticipation of what's about to unfold.

Reaching us, he stands tall, his posture relaxed but assertive. He takes a moment to acknowledge my parents with a courteous nod, but his deep-set eyes are primarily focused on me. Their intensity is almost electric, causing a flutter in the pit of my stomach.

"Good evening, Mr. Laurent, Mrs. Laurent," he begins, his voice smooth, betraying no hint of the tension in the air. Then, turning to me, he smiles a bit daringly, "Isabelle, would you honor me with a dance?"

Before I can react, my father, always quick on his feet and even quicker with his words, retorts, "I believe my daughter has better things to do than—"

"Dance? I'd love to," I interject, cutting him off. My heart races as I rise to the challenge in Xavier's eyes, feeling the pull of both our shared history and the undeniable attraction between us. There's a rebellious thrill in going against my father's wishes, but there's also genuine curiosity to see what Xavier has to say.

My father's jaw tightens, and his eyes darken with disapproval, but he remains silent, clearly not wanting to cause a scene in such a public setting.

Taking Xavier's outstretched hand, I feel the warmth and strength emanating from his palm as he leads me onto the dance floor. The chandeliers overhead, glittering with a myriad of crystals, bathe us in a soft glow. As the orchestra plays a hauntingly beautiful melody, we start to move.

Xavier holds me with a firm yet tender grip, our bodies gliding effortlessly across the polished floor. The intimacy of our position, his hand on the small of my back, our fingers interlaced, and the way our eyes continually seek each other out, makes the air around us thrum with palpable tension.

As we dance, the fabric of my dress whispers against his tailored suit, our feet moving in silent conversation to the rhythm. Each twirl, each step feels electric, charged with a simmering energy that neither of us acknowledges out loud.

Breaking the heady silence, Xavier's voice, deep and slightly raspy, murmurs, "I heard we secured that famous artist for the auction. Quite a catch."

I nod, allowing myself a faint smile. "Yes, Karina Vega. I was surprised she agreed. Her pieces usually go for millions."

His eyebrow quirks up playfully, the light from the chandelier catching the mischief in his striking blue eyes. "Guess she sees the potential in our event. Or maybe she's a fan of yours."

A genuine laugh bubbles up from within me. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Sterling."

He twirls me with a fluidity that takes my breath away. When he reels me back in, there's a mischievous grin on his face. "Worth a try. But on a serious note, I've always admired her work. I think it'll draw a significant crowd."

With our bodies pressed close, I reply, "Hopefully, it will also bring in a considerable donation for EmpowerHer."

Nodding, he pauses, studying me, the intensity in his gaze undeniable. "You know, I've been considering acquiring one of her pieces for the Sterling Towers lobby. Might as well make the bid at our event."

Feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, I challenge him with a raised eyebrow. "Using our event for personal gains, Mr. Sterling?"

His chuckle, low and throaty, sends shivers down my spine. "It's for a good cause. And I can't help it if doing good aligns with my personal interests."

We sway together, the world narrowing to just the two of us. A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips as a realization dawns—beneath his veneer of arrogance and strategy, Xavier Sterling might just have a heart.

"Your father doesn't seem too thrilled about our collaboration." The slightest hint of mockery colors his tone.

Tilting my head, I shoot back, "Does he ever seem thrilled about anything? And our 'collaboration,' as you call it, is strictly professional."

In a bold move, he leans in, bringing his lips tantalizingly close to my ear. The warmth of his breath sends a thrill through me as he whispers, "For now."

---