CHAPTER 3

The photo in the tabloid did no justice to the man who just stepped out of the limousine and headed for the terrace, even his steps exuded power. For the evening, he was wearing a black tuxedo and customized pair of black shoes, his black hair was styled to the left with a little dash to the front to give him that 007 look.

The girls with me were a giggling mess as they continued to ogle him. “He’s here!” one of them squealed.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” another drawled.

“Silence, girls! We can’t afford to fall our hands with your petty fantasies, put yourselves together.” Our supervisor said and she stepped out to meet him. “Welcome to Blue Ribbons Hotel,” she said to him.

He was about to reply when his phone rang. “Hello? Can we talk later, I'm in a middle of something…Yes, thank you. What?”

He continued to me and I wore him the garland and stopped briefly as my hands came in contact with his chest. The world around drifted away as I stared into those pools of blue eyes, my lips parted instinctively as if it to let out the hot air sizzling inside me.

“Alright. Goodbye.” He ended the call and stared at me. “Hi,” he said to me.

“Welcome to the forte-night ball,” I said. My voice sounded distant like it wasn't even mine.

A faint smile touched his lips and without sparing me another glance, he continued into the ballroom.

Gasps escaped the lips of the other girls. “Did you see that? He spoke to her!” And they jealously stared at me. I lowered my gaze to the floor, recollected myself and resumed with my duty, hanging garlands on more guests as they trooped in. We finished and proceeded inside were we began serving the guests drinks.

The symphony of ball music filled the room as the guests made acquaintances of one another. I carried on, serving the guests and suddenly caught sight of him talking with some guests; mostly ladies. Suddenly, he stopped and glanced around the room and caught me looking at him.

Shyly, I looked away and resumed serving the guests, when I looked around, he was now dancing with one of the ladies; she looked spectacular and complimented him. I tried not to be jealous and focused on my job.

“Is that a champagne?” someone asked. I looked up and there was a couple standing in-front of me.

“Y-yes,” I stuttered and presented the tray to them. A kind smile on their lips, they each picked a glass and headed in the other direction. Exhaling, I turned and headed to the table to refill my tray.

A sudden gloom overcame me watching him still dancing with the lady; I gulped and recollected myself. The symphony ended and they parted ways, he walked to a corner and picked up a glass of wine from a passing server, and just as he was about to drink; our eyes met again.

Reluctantly, he gulped half of his glass and frowned, he glanced at his drink and clutched his stomach. What was that? Curiosity washed through me as I watched him stagger a little and headed out of the room. Gripping tightly my tray, I wanted to follow him and almost bumped into someone; a woman in her mid-fifties.

“I-I’m so sorry,” I apologized.

“No, no..it’s fine,” she said and gave me a smile that didn't reach her eyes. “Hi,” she greeted.

“Hello. Would you like a drink?” I hid my unease under the veil of professionalism. I presented my tray at her.

She awkwardly touched my shoulders. “No, but a friend of mine does need a little drink. Please, come with me.” She grabbed my hand and headed for the door..

A part of me didn’t want to go with her, but the other part remembered I needed this job and can’t afford to screw it up. Gripping tightly the tray in my hands, I followed her, we strode down the exquisite hallway of the Blue Ribbons Hotel and stopped before a door.

I don’t know why, but my heart started to thump. “Don’t worry, you won’t be needing this,” she said and collected the tray from me.

“But, ma’am..”

She hushed and signaled me to go in.

Gulping, I reached for the door and entered the hotel room, and the sight before me left me in shock. “Mr. Rivera?” He was sprawled on the floor and rested his back on the bed.

I darted to his side and plummeted on the floor. “Mr. Rivera? Are you okay?”

Slowly, he looked up and his eyes were sunken. He smiled lazily and touched my face. “You’re here.” He broke into tears and grabbed my hands. “Please don’t leave me.”

Just when I thought about getting help, he pulled me into his arms and rested his head on my shoulder. We remained like this for a while and just when I thought about pulling away, he straightened and slowly, inched toward my lips.

Adrenaline coursed through me, heat building between my thighs as he claimed my lips in a slow wanton kiss. It felt so good I didn’t want it to stop but also wanted to thread with caution.

His lips moved possessively over mine, taking my breath and returning them at will. I didn’t know how he did it, but he found my nipple through the material of my dress and squeezed.

A surge of arousal gushed through me and my breath quickened. He traced kisses to my neck and shoulders, and I moaned.

Is this really happening? Am I in the arms of the hottest billionaire in North America?