The champagne splashes across his tuxedo before I can stop it.
Crystal liquid dripping down black silk.
Mothball-scented garland scattered at our feet in the elevator.

My boss.
My devastatingly handsome, silver-haired, untouchable boss.
And I’ve just drenched him.

Lucian Cross should fire me.
Instead, he laughs.
And then he invites me to his penthouse.

A blizzard rages outside.
Inside, there’s Bordeaux, firelight, and four years of buried tension ready to combust.
When he deals the cards for a scandalous game of strip twenty-one, I should walk away.

I should remember he’s twice my age.
That he’s my boss.
That one night could destroy everything I’ve built.

But I don’t.
I lose. Again and again.
And when he touches me, commands me, claims me, I want more.

I have plans — finish my degree, save for IVF, become a mother on my own.
No messy men. No dangerous distractions.
But then his text makes my pulse race.
His voice melts every boundary I built.

Now his car idles outside in the January snow,
And one choice will keep my life neat and controlled.
The other will burn it all down.

I think the scandal is sleeping with my silver-fox boss.
Until I realize the

I’m already carrying his baby.