The Billionaire Who Hated Me... Until I Stole His Heart

I was sure I would nab him. I was certain I would make my mark and become the hero of the hour, the one who caught the intruder red-handed while everyone else was scrambling around preparing for the fundraiser.

But for the life of me, I don't know how it happened.

I lunged forward with the figurine raised high, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I could only catch a glimpse of his eyes widening in shock, before everything went by in a blur.

The figurine was inches away from his head when he somehow managed to dodge it in one fluid motion. Before I could even process what happened, he reached out and grabbed my wrist mid-swing, then swerved to the side and pinned me against the wall with my hand above my head.

The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.

I quickly reached out with my other hand to push him off, but just as quickly, he grabbed that wrist too and pinned it above my head alongside the first. 

I shook my head from side to side, wriggling and squirming to free myself, but he had a dead grip on me. My heart hammered against my ribcage so hard I thought it might break through.

The only free thing I had now were my legs. I drew my knee up, ready to strike, but he must have read my mind, because he looked down, then suddenly pushed my legs apart with one knee and moved to stand between them, pressing against my body, making me totally immobilized.

Heat flooded my face. This was not how this was supposed to go.

In all my struggles, it never occurred to me to actually look at my assailant. For someone playing hero, you would have thought that should be the first thing I would have done, right?

"One more move from you," he threatened in a low, menacing voice that sent a shiver down my spine, "and I'll drop this on your head."

I looked up and saw the figurine in his hand, held high and ready. My own weapon, turned against me.

My breath hitched as the gravity of the situation dawned on me like ice water.

Just moments ago, I was going to retire home and have a long, uninterrupted sleep. But here I was, in a life-threatening situation, pinned to a wall by a man who could very well be dangerous.

Matthew, where are you?

I slowly looked from the figurine to his face, and my breath hitched a second time. No, it was like the air was sucked right out of my lungs, like I'd been punched in the chest.

He was half-naked, with a towel loosely hanging around the waist that was pressed firmly against mine. Little beads of water were still running down his... chest. His sculpted, ridiculous chest that looked like it had been carved from marble.

Gulp.

His fierce hazel eyes stared down at me, nostrils flared like he was about to devour me whole. His wet hair dripped water right onto my face, and I blinked it away.

He was mad. Really mad.

It dawned on me that I should have handled this better. Way better. I should have waited for Matthew to arrive with security instead of charging in like some knock-off action hero with a bronze figurine.

What was I thinking?!

"Let me go!" I groaned, twisting my hands, but that action only earned me rippling pain as his hold tightened in response.

"Security will be here soon," I added, trying to sound threatening despite the tremor in my voice. "So unless you want to get hurt, I suggest you let go of me."

He creased his brows, staring at me like I'd sprouted a second head.

"Let. Me. Go." I squirmed again, and he reinforced himself by pressing harder against me, eliminating even the smallest gap between our bodies.

The heat of him seeped through my uniform. I could feel the dampness of his skin through the thin fabric. My face burned.

"Did you hit your head?" he asked, genuinely perplexed, his brows still creased in confusion. "Or do they now employ crazy people here?"

I looked straight into his eyes, heaving from all the exertion, my chest rising and falling rapidly. He looked genuinely curious.

The audacity.

"You think I don't know your kind?" I spat.

"My kind?" he said with raised brows and a flicker of amusement dancing in those hazel eyes. "Pray, do tell."

"You're a literal thief! Scamming people out of their hard-earned money! Pretending to be someone you're not!"

Just as those words left my lips, my brain yelled back at me: Hypocrite! You're no better! You stole from someone too!

The memory of that golden crest flashed through my mind, the one I'd pawned to save Grandma. The one I still hadn't managed to recover after all these years.

I swallowed hard and went mute, shame creeping up my neck.

I saw his face contort into a frown as he stared down at me with renewed disdain, his jaw tightening. Whatever amusement had been there vanished, replaced by something colder.

Just then, the door flew open with a loud bang that made us both flinch. Matthew barged in, and behind him followed three of his men, all armed with batons.

The stranger and I turned at the same time, our heads snapping toward the door in unison.

Matthew darted his eyes around murderously, scanning the room in search of me. When his gaze finally landed on us, on our compromising position with the stranger's half-naked body pressed against mine, I saw his face

darken with pure fury.

He stomped toward us, ready to annihilate this... thief?