Chapter 2 The Stranger's Bed

Warmth. That was the first thing Vera felt.

Not the uncomfortable kind that came from drinking too much or from a hangover pressing against her temples, but a deep, velvety heat cocooning her like a blanket. She groaned softly and blinked against the soft rays of sunlight spilling through half-drawn curtains.

Panic hit her like a slap when she realized this wasn't her room. The sheets were too luxurious, the air too clean, and the scent God, the scent masculine, rich, and dangerously addictive.

She sat up with a jolt.

She was wearing a white T-shirt several sizes too large. It slipped off one shoulder, revealing her soft skin and a faint red mark just below her collarbone. Her heart pounded. Her eyes scanned the room sleek, modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. This was a penthouse suite. Not just expensive. Obscenely expensive.

Then she heard it.

The sound of water running in the en-suite bathroom.

She barely had time to scramble out of bed before the door swung open and he walked out.

The man from the club.

Towering. Shirtless. His chest was all hard planes and defined lines, a single towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist. Water glistened on his skin. Vera's breath caught a mixture of fear, confusion, and an undeniable spark of something else entirely.

He noticed her panic instantly.

"You're safe," he said calmly, closing the door behind him as if they were having a casual conversation. "Nothing happened, not unless you count your puking on my shoes."

Vera turned crimson. "Oh God," she murmured, burying her face in her hands.

"You're welcome," he added with a smirk, walking past her to grab a shirt from a nearby chair. "That guy had his hands all over you. If I hadn't stepped in when I did..."

Her stomach turned not from the alcohol, but the memory. "Thank you," she said quietly, sitting back down on the bed. "I don't even remember how I got here."

"I brought you." He buttoned his shirt slowly, deliberately. "You passed out. You were in no shape to go home alone."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "So, you just brought a drunk stranger to your penthouse suite? That's not suspicious at all."

He laughed low and smooth. "You're not just anyone." He turned toward her then, his eyes scanning her face as if memorizing every curve, every flicker of emotion. "You're... different."

She blinked. "Different how?"

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

"Should I?"

He smirked again, this time with something darker behind his eyes. "Michael Robb."

The name meant nothing to her at first until something clicked. The Crimson Room. The whispered rumors about who owned that place. The underworld kingpin. The man whose name sent both fear and awe through the veins of the city's elite.

"You're that Michael Robb?" she whispered.

Michael walked closer. "Does that scare you?"

"No," she lied, even as her heartbeat thundered. "Maybe it should."

He leaned in slightly, not touching her but close enough that her breath hitched. "Maybe. But I didn't bring you here to scare you, Vera."

She stiffened. "How do you know my name?"

"You said it when you were cursing out your ex," he replied, tone suddenly hard. "Edward. The one who called you names and brought another woman home while you were still living there?"

The pain in her chest reignited like fire. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I was so stupid."

"No." His voice softened. "You were in love."

She met his eyes those dark, unreadable eyes, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Vera did something that surprised them both.

She stood, walked toward him, and with her hands slightly trembling, she reached up and touched the side of his face. "You don't know me," she whispered, "but you looked at me like I mattered. No one's done that in years."

His hand reached for her wrist, gently but firmly, pulling her closer until she could feel his breath on her lips.

"I don't make a habit of saving women from creeps at my club," he murmured. "But I couldn't walk away from you."

The air between them grew heavy, saturated with something dangerous and magnetic.

Vera's lips parted. "Then don't."

And before either of them could second-guess it, she rose on her toes and kissed him.