One Night Stand With Billionaire

The sapphire-blue gown clung to Arianna Jason's curves like it had been made for her, which of course it hadn't. The designer dress was worth more than three months of her rent, and the delicate fabric felt like it might disintegrate if she breathed too hard. She adjusted the strap for what felt like the hundredth time, her fingers trembling against the cool silk.

"You look like you're about to pass out or punch someone," Lila whispered, appearing at her side with two flutes of champagne. Her best friend and coworker looked effortlessly elegant in her emerald-green gown, her dark curls piled into an artful updo. "Relax. It's just a party."

Arianna accepted the glass with a death grip. "Just a party? Lila, this is the Hudson Foundation's annual charity gala. Half the people here could buy our company with their pocket change."

"And the other half are here to be seen with them," Lila said with a wink. "Which means they're too busy preening to notice you. Now stop fidgeting before you pop a seam on that dress."

Arianna took a gulp of champagne, the bubbles burning down her throat. She didn't belong here. She was only attending because her boss, the senior event planner at Luxe Affairs, had called in sick with food poisoning twenty minutes before they were supposed to leave for the venue. As the junior planner, Arianna had been the obvious last-minute replacement-thrown into a world of crystal chandeliers, million-dollar auction items, and people who thought nothing of dropping five figures on a bottle of wine.

The ballroom of the Hudson Tower was a glittering spectacle. Ice sculptures melted slowly beside towers of champagne flutes, while waiters circulated with silver trays of hors d'oeuvres that probably cost more than her weekly grocery budget. The air smelled like expensive perfume and money.

"Remember," Lila said, squeezing her arm, "we're here to network. Smile, be charming, and if anyone asks, you've been with Luxe for three years, not three months."

Arianna nodded, forcing a smile as Lila drifted off to schmooze with a group of socialites. She took another sip of champagne and began circulating through the crowd, offering polite nods to strangers.

Then she saw him.

Jace Hudson stood near the auction stage, his imposing frame commanding attention even in a room full of powerful people. The media portrayed him as a ruthless businessman-the self-made billionaire who'd taken his family's failing empire and turned it into a global powerhouse. In person, he was even more intimidating.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he'd run an impatient hand through it, he exuded an aura of controlled power. His sharp jawline was set in what looked like permanent disapproval, and his ice-blue eyes scanned the room like a predator assessing prey.

Arianna quickly looked away before he could catch her staring, but not before noticing how his presence seemed to create an invisible radius around him-people hovered nearby, desperate for his attention, but no one dared approach too closely.

She turned to escape toward the buffet table when a booming voice came over the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the twenty-fifth annual Hudson Foundation Charity Gala."

The crowd quieted as an older man-presumably Jace's father-took the stage. Arianna half-listened to the speech about charitable initiatives and corporate responsibility while subtly scanning the room for potential clients.

"-and now, I'll turn things over to my son, Jace Hudson, who has some exciting news about our expansion into-"

A sudden burst of feedback from the microphone cut him off. Jace strode onto the stage with the confidence of someone who'd never doubted his place in the world. He adjusted the mic with one hand while the other rested casually in his pocket.

"Thank you," he said, his deep voice resonating through the ballroom. "As my father mentioned, we're proud to announce-"

Another screech of feedback. Jace's jaw tightened visibly.

A technician rushed forward, fumbling with the equipment. The delay stretched awkwardly.

From her spot near the stage, Arianna could see the exact moment Jace's patience snapped. His fingers flexed once against the microphone stand before he stepped back and fixed the technician with a glare that could melt steel.

"Fix it," he said, just loud enough for those nearby to hear. The technician paled and scrambled to adjust the controls.

Arianna shouldn't have found it amusing-she knew firsthand how stressful live events could be-but something about the way this billionaire couldn't handle a few seconds of technical difficulties made her lips twitch.

The microphone stabilized, and Jace continued his speech without missing a beat, as if the interruption had never happened. His words were polished, his delivery flawless, but Arianna couldn't unsee that flash of irritation. For all his power and wealth, Jace Hudson was apparently as human as anyone else when things didn't go his way.

The thought made her bold.

As the speech ended and the crowd broke into applause, Arianna found herself moving toward the stage instead of away from it. She wasn't sure what she intended to do-maybe just get a closer look at the man who seemed to fascinate and annoy her in equal measure.

She didn't notice the waiter carrying a tray of champagne until it was too late.

The collision sent her stumbling forward, her borrowed heels slipping on the polished marble floor. She barely managed to catch herself before face-planting at the base of the stage-right at Jace Hudson's feet.

Silence fell around them.

Arianna's cheeks burned as she straightened, smoothing her dress with trembling hands. The waiter was already apologizing profusely, but Jace's attention was fixed solely on her.

"You're blocking the exit," he said coldly.

She blinked. The alcove she'd stumbled into did indeed lead to a private hallway, but that wasn't the point. "I'm sorry about that," she said, forcing politeness. "The floor is..."

"Slippery?" he finished, one dark brow arching. "It's marble. It's supposed to be."

Arianna's temper flared. "Right. Because clearly the problem is me not anticipating your ballroom's flooring choices, not the fact that your staff are rushing around like-"

"Like what?" he challenged, stepping closer.

She should have backed down. Apologized. But something about his arrogant tone made her lift her chin instead. "Like they're terrified of you."

A murmur rippled through the nearby guests. Jace's expression didn't change, but she saw something flicker in his eyes-surprise, maybe, that someone would dare speak to him that way.

"You're here with Luxe Affairs," he said after a beat.

It wasn't a question. "How did you-"

"Because no one else would be stupid enough to talk to me like that," he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Before she could respond, another server bumped into her from behind-this time sending her half-full champagne glass splashing directly onto Jace's pristine white dress shirt and black tuxedo jacket.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath.

The server turned ghostly pale. "Mr. Hudson, I'm so sorry-"

"Get out," Jace said without looking at him. His gaze remained locked on Arianna, who was torn between mortification and a strange, defiant satisfaction.

"That was an accident," she said.

His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "And yet, you're the one who provoked it."

The accusation was ridiculous, but something about the way he said it-the quiet challenge in his voice-made her pulse jump. She should have walked away. Instead, she heard herself say, "Maybe if you weren't so arrogant, people wouldn't feel the need to 'provoke' you."

A deadly silence fell between them. Then, to her shock, Jace laughed-a low, rough sound that sent an unexpected shiver down her spine.

"You're either very brave," he murmured, stepping closer, "or very stupid."

The scent of his cologne-something dark and expensive-wrapped around her. Up close, she could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes, the faint stubble shadowing his jaw. He was taller than she'd realized, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room.

Arianna refused to back down. "I'd say the same about you."

Something dangerous flashed in his expression. Before she could react, his hand closed around her wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "You want to play with fire?" he asked, his breath warm against her ear as he pulled her toward the private hallway. "Fine. Let's see how long you last."

The moment the heavy door closed behind them, his mouth crashed onto hers.

The kiss was nothing like she expected-not the calculated seduction of a wealthy playboy, but something raw and possessive. His hands slid into her hair, tilting her head back as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping against hers with a hunger that stole her breath.

Arianna knew she should push him away. Knew this was a terrible idea. But the moment her fingers tangled in his hair, she was lost. The heat of his body pressed against hers, the way his teeth grazed her lower lip-it all combined into an intoxicating rush that drowned out every rational thought.

One night. One reckless mistake.

And tomorrow?

She'd pretend it never happened.

Arianna woke to the sharp scent of expensive cologne and the unfamiliar weight of an arm draped possessively across her waist.

For one blissful second, she floated in the hazy space between sleep and wakefulness, her body deliciously sore in places she hadn't known could ache. Then memory crashed over her like ice water.

*The gala. The argument. The kiss.*

*Oh God.*

Her eyes flew open, taking in the disaster around her. The penthouse suite was bathed in early morning light, glinting off shattered champagne glasses and the shredded remains of her sapphire-blue dress. The silk scraps lay scattered across the floor like fallen petals, a stark reminder of how thoroughly Jace Hudson had destroyed it-and her-last night.

She carefully lifted his arm, her breath catching as she took in the sight of him asleep. In daylight, he looked younger, the harsh lines of his face softened in slumber. Dark lashes fanned against his cheekbones, and his lips-those sinful, demanding lips-were slightly parted. The sheet had slipped low on his hips, revealing the sculpted planes of his abdomen and the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath-

*Nope. Not looking.*

Arianna slid out of bed, wincing as her muscles protested. She spotted her lace thong dangling from a lampshade and barely suppressed a hysterical laugh. *Classy.*

Her phone buzzed from the nightstand. Twelve missed calls from Lila.

**Lila (3:47 AM):** WHERE ARE YOU?!

**Lila (4:12 AM):** If you're dead, I'm stealing your coffee mug collection.

**Lila (6:30 AM):** Okay, now I'm worried.

Arianna typed a reply with shaking fingers:

**Alive. Explain later.**

She tiptoed toward the bathroom, then froze when the mattress creaked behind her.

"Leaving so soon?"

Jace's voice was rough with sleep, but the edge in it was unmistakable. Arianna turned slowly, clutching a pillow to her chest. He'd propped himself up on one elbow, the sheet now pooling dangerously low on his hips. His gaze raked over her bare legs, the bruises on her thighs, the smudged mascara she knew was raccooned around her eyes.

"I have work," she lied.

One dark brow arched. "At seven a.m. on a Saturday?"

Damn. She scrambled for another excuse. "I-I need to feed my cat."

"You don't have a cat."

"How would you know?"

"Because I had my assistant run a background check when you went to the bathroom last night." He said it so casually, as if invading her privacy was perfectly normal.

Arianna gaped at him. "You *what*?"

Jace shrugged, the movement making the muscles in his shoulders ripple. "Standard procedure."

"For *one-night stands*?"

"For anyone who gets this close." His eyes darkened as they trailed over her again. "And you, Arianna Jason, got very close indeed."

Heat flooded her cheeks as images from last night flashed through her mind-his mouth between her thighs, his hands pinning her wrists to the headboard, the way he'd growled *"Look at me"* as she came apart beneath him.

She snatched the nearest garment-his dress shirt-and yanked it on. "This was a mistake."

"Was it?" Jace rose from the bed in one fluid motion, gloriously naked. Arianna forced her gaze upward, but that was worse-the smirk on his lips told her he'd noticed her staring.

He stepped closer, backing her against the wall. "You didn't seem to think so when you were begging me to-"

"*Stop.*" She shoved against his chest, but he didn't budge. "This isn't... I don't do this."

"Do what?" He braced a hand beside her head, leaning down until his breath ghosted over her lips. "Have mind-blowing sex with strangers? Because I find that hard to believe."

Arianna's temper flared. "Wow. Classy."

"Truthful." His fingers brushed the bite mark he'd left on her neck, making her shiver. "You're not the innocent type, sweetheart. Not after last night."

The words stung more than they should have. She ducked under his arm, putting distance between them. "I'm leaving."

Jace watched as she gathered her scattered belongings. "You're welcome to stay for breakfast."

"Pass."

"Shame." He reached for his phone on the nightstand. "My chef makes excellent pancakes."

Of course he had a personal chef. Arianna located her clutch under the couch, along with one lone heel. The other was MIA-probably lost in the frenzy of last night, when he'd pinned her against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan.

She straightened just as Jace's phone buzzed. His expression hardened as he read the screen.

"Change of plans," he said abruptly. "I'll have my driver take you home."

Arianna blinked at the sudden shift. "What happened?"

"Business." The word was a dismissal. He was already striding toward his walk-in closet, pulling on black slacks with ruthless efficiency.

She should've been relieved. Instead, an odd pang shot through her chest. *Idiot. Did you expect him to beg you to stay?*

By the time Jace emerged, fully dressed in another tailored suit (because apparently billionaires kept spare Armani in their closets), Arianna had composed herself.

"Keys." A uniformed driver appeared in the doorway, holding out a hand.

She hesitated. "I can call an Uber."

Jace didn't look up from his phone. "It's rush hour. You'll wait forty minutes."

The driver-an older man with kind eyes-nodded toward the elevator. "Car's ready when you are, miss."

Arianna squared her shoulders. "Thank you for the... hospitality."

Jace finally met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "We're not done, Arianna."

The words sent a thrill down her spine-one she ruthlessly ignored. "Yes, we are."

---

The penthouse elevator doors had barely closed when Arianna's phone buzzed again.

**Lila: GIRL. You hooked up with JACE HUDSON?!**

Her stomach dropped. **How do you know that?**

**Lila: Because TMZ just posted a photo of you leaving his building at dawn looking like you got RAILED.**

Arianna's blood turned to ice. She clicked the link-and there it was. A grainy but unmistakable shot of her in Jace's shirt and last night's smudged makeup, slipping into his black town car. The headline screamed:

**BILLIONAIRE BACHELOR'S LATEST CONQUEST: Mystery Woman Spends Night at Hudson Tower!**

The article speculated wildly-was she a model? An heiress?-but thankfully, no one had identified her yet.

Her fingers flew over the screen. **Don't tell anyone it's me.**

**Lila: Too late. The entire office knows.**

Arianna groaned, thunking her head against the elevator wall. Of course they did. Luxe Affairs planned events for Manhattan's elite; gossip was their currency.

The car ride home was a blur. She tipped the driver (who politely pretended not to recognize her) and sprinted up the stairs to her tiny walk-up apartment.

Her roommate, Sophie, was waiting with two mimosas and a shit-eating grin. "So. You *slept* with-"

"Don't." Arianna stormed past her to the shower, scrubbing until her skin was raw. But no amount of water could wash away the memory of Jace's hands on her body-or the unsettling realization that part of her wanted to do it all over again.

---

**Hudson Tower, 8:17 AM**

Jace stared at the TMZ photo, his grip tightening on his phone. He should've anticipated this. Should've had her leave through the private garage.

His assistant cleared her throat. "The board is waiting, sir. The vote on the merger-"

"I know what the vote's about." He tossed the phone aside. "Damage control. Make sure no one digs into her background."

"Already done. But... sir?" She hesitated. "Your father saw the photo."

Jace's jaw clenched. Of course he had. Richard Hudson had eyes everywhere.

Sure enough, his phone lit up with a call from *Dad*. He dismissed his assistant before answering.

"I hope she was worth the distraction," Richard said without preamble. "We have a $2 billion deal hanging by a thread, and you're fucking some event planner?"

Jace's temper spiked. "My personal life isn't up for discussion."

"It is when it affects the company. Clean it up." The line went dead.

Jace exhaled sharply, scrolling back to the photo. Arianna's tousled hair, her long legs, the defiant set of her shoulders even as she'd fled-it all stirred something primal in him.

Last night hadn't been part of the plan. He didn't *do* impulsive. Didn't lose control. But the moment she'd challenged him, something inside him had snapped.

And now?

Now he couldn't stop thinking about her.

His phone buzzed with another alert-a notification from the building's security system. Arianna had left something behind.

A single sapphire-blue earring, tangled in his sheets.

Jace pocketed it with a slow smile.

The boardroom was silent as a tomb.

Jace kept his expression neutral as the final merger vote was tallied, but beneath the surface, his mind was still tangled in the memory of *her*-the way Arianna had gasped his name last night, the taste of her skin, the fire in her eyes when she'd challenged him.

*Focus.*

"All in favor?" The chairman's voice snapped him back to the present.

Jace raised his hand, along with eleven others. The motion passed. The $2 billion acquisition was his.

He should've felt triumph. Instead, all he could think about was the way Arianna had looked at him this morning-like he was the villain in her story.

"Congratulations, Jace." His father clapped him on the shoulder, grip tightening just enough to convey a warning. "Now clean up your mess."

The unspoken threat hung between them. Richard Hudson didn't tolerate distractions, especially not ones splashed across tabloids.

Jace waited until the boardroom emptied before pulling up the TMZ article again. The photo was grainy, but there was no mistaking Arianna-his shirt barely covering her thighs, her hair a wild tangle from his hands. The headline made his blood boil:

**"Jace Hudson's Latest One-Night Stand: Who Is the Mystery Woman?"**

His assistant, Elena, appeared in the doorway. "Sir, the press team has drafted a statement denying-"

"No." Jace shut off his screen. "I'll handle it."

"But your father-"

"*I'll handle it.*"

Elena retreated.

Alone, Jace pulled the sapphire earring from his pocket-the one he'd found tangled in his sheets. It was cheap costume jewelry, the stone already chipped. Nothing like the diamonds his usual companions wore.

That was the problem.

Arianna Jason wasn't like the others. She hadn't flirted for his attention or simpered at his wealth. She'd *argued* with him. Challenged him. And when he'd kissed her, she'd kissed him back like she wanted to devour him whole.

His phone buzzed. A text from his head of security:

**Background check complete. Arianna Jason, 26. Junior event planner at Luxe Affairs. No criminal record. $92K student debt. Lives in a walk-up in Hell's Kitchen. Father deceased, mother in assisted living in Jersey.**

Jace frowned. No trust fund. No connections. Just a woman trying to survive in a city that ate people like her alive.

Another alert popped up-a Google News notification.

**"Luxe Affairs Employee Identified as Jace Hudson's Mystery Woman!"**

*Fuck.*

He clicked the link. There she was-Arianna, caught on camera entering her office building, her face pale beneath yesterday's smudged makeup. The article named her employer, her job title, even her fucking college.

His fingers flew over his phone. "Elena, kill the story. Now."

"It's too late, sir. It's already-"

"I don't care what it costs. Buy the outlet if you have to."

A beat of silence. Then, carefully: "There's... another issue."

Elena forwarded an email. The subject line made his stomach drop:

**Termination Notice: Arianna Jason.**

Attached was a dismissal letter from Luxe Affairs' HR department, citing "conduct unbecoming of company values."

Jace was out of his chair before he finished reading.

---

**Luxe Affairs, 11:47 AM**

Arianna's boss didn't even look up from her desk. "HR already packed your things."

The words hit like a punch. Arianna gripped the back of the guest chair, her nails digging into the leather. "You're firing me over a *tabloid photo*?"

"Over *breach of contract*." Cynthia Lawson finally met her eyes, mouth pinched. "Page 14, section 3: 'Employees shall not engage in behavior that brings disrepute to the company.'"

Arianna laughed bitterly. "You sent me to that gala!"

"As a *representative* of this firm. Not to fuck the client!"

The office had gone dead silent. Every intern, every planner, even the mailroom guy was staring.

Arianna's cheeks burned. "Jace Hudson wasn't our client."

"He is *now*." Cynthia slid a contract across the desk-the Hudson Foundation's logo glaring at the top. "Signed this morning. A three-year exclusive partnership. So tell me, how does it look if our junior planner is spreading her legs for-"

The door burst open.

Every head swiveled.

Jace Hudson stood in the doorway, his tailored suit and icy glare cutting through the room like a blade.

Cynthia shot to her feet. "Mr. Hudson! What an-"

"Out."

The single word sent employees scrambling. Cynthia opened her mouth to protest, but Jace's look silenced her. She fled, slamming the door behind her.

Arianna didn't move. Couldn't.

Jace stepped closer, his gaze raking over her. She looked exhausted-shadows under her eyes, her usually vibrant curls limp. The blouse she'd thrown on was wrinkled, as if she'd grabbed the first thing from her closet.

He hated that he noticed. Hated that he cared.

"You didn't have to come here," she said quietly.

Jace set the termination letter on the desk. "You're not fired."

"Pretty sure I am."

"Not if I say you're not." He pulled out his phone. "I own forty percent of this company."

Arianna's breath caught. "*What*?"

"A recent acquisition." He tapped his screen, forwarding the paperwork to her email. "Check your inbox."

She did. Then paled. "You *bought* Luxe Affairs?"

"Enough of it."

"Why?"

Jace stepped into her space, close enough to smell her shampoo-something sweet, like vanilla. "Because no one fires what's mine."

Arianna's eyes flashed. "I'm not *yours*."

"Aren't you?" He pulled the sapphire earring from his pocket, dangling it between them. "You left this in my bed."

She snatched it from his hand. "A mistake. Just like last night."

The lie was so obvious it almost amused him. He'd felt how responsive she was to his touch, how eagerly her body had arched into his.

"Tell me something," he murmured, tracing the curve of her jaw. "Did you think about me this morning? When you touched yourself in the shower?"

Arianna jerked back. "You're *disgusting*."

"And you're a terrible liar." He caught her wrist, pulling her flush against him. "I could make you come right here, just by reminding you how you screamed for me last night."

Her pulse rabbited under his fingers. "Let go."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll knee you in the balls again."

Jace laughed-a real, startled laugh. Christ, she was magnificent. "You'd lose your job."

"I don't want this job if it means being your *charity case*."

The words struck deeper than they should have. Jace released her. "Fine. Resign. See how far you get with no references and a reputation for sleeping with clients."

Arianna flinched.

He knew it was a low blow, but he needed her off-balance. Needed her to *listen*.

"Here's the deal," he said, straightening his cuffs. "You keep your job-no strings attached. In return, you attend the Hudson Foundation's next gala as my date."

"Why?"

"Because the press already knows about you. Showing up together kills the 'one-night stand' narrative."

Arianna crossed her arms. "And if I say no?"

Jace smiled-the slow, dangerous smile that made CEOs sweat. "Then I withdraw Luxe's contract. How many jobs do you think Cynthia will cut to balance the budget?"

Her breath hitched. She knew the answer: dozens.

"You're a bastard," she whispered.

He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "And you love it."

---

**One Hour Later**

Jace stared at the signed contract on his desk-Arianna's agreement to the gala, with one added clause in her messy handwriting:

**"No touching. No kissing. And DEFINITELY no sex."**

He traced the words, already planning how he'd make her break every rule.

His phone buzzed. A message from his doctor:

**"Your results are in. Please call to discuss."**

Jace deleted it. He had more pressing matters.

Like how to make Arianna Jason surrender to him-body, mind, and soul.