Chapter 1 - THE KISS ON THE FROZEN TERRACE
“Miss Hayes,” Mr. Henderson repeated, his fingers tightening around my elbow. “This gentleman has some questions.”
I looked at the man with the camera bag.
He was thin, perhaps thirty, with a narrow face and a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
“Questions about what?” I asked.
He lifted his camera.
“The kiss.”
My stomach dropped.
Henderson's expression turned murderous.
“What kiss?”
The photographer smiled.
“The one your employee just shared with the most dangerous man in New York.”
I stared.
“What?”
He tilted the camera toward me.
On the small screen was a photograph.
Me.
Standing on my toes.
My hands gripping a stranger's tuxedo.
His arm wrapped around my waist.
His mouth against mine.
The image was intimate.
Beautiful.
And potentially career-ending.
Henderson looked as though he might faint.
“Miss Hayes,” he whispered. “Do you have any idea who that man is?”
I shook my head.
The photographer laughed.
“That's Dante Moretti.”
Silence.
I knew the name.
Everyone in New York knew the name.
Dante Moretti.
Thirty-nine.
Billionaire businessman.
Owner of luxury hotels, shipping companies, and private investment firms.
And according to every whispered rumor in Manhattan, the man who controlled half the city's criminal underworld.
My knees weakened.
I had kissed a Mafia boss.
Not just any Mafia boss.
The Mafia boss.
Henderson released my elbow.
Then took a step backward.
“Oh, dear God.”
The photographer smiled.
“Now, Miss Hayes, perhaps you'd like to explain your relationship with Mr. Moretti?”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Then a deep voice spoke behind me.
“She doesn't need to explain anything.”
I turned.
Dante Moretti stood in the doorway.
His tuxedo was immaculate.
His expression unreadable.
The photographer's smile vanished.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Dante looked at him.
“Delete the photograph.”
The man swallowed.
“Sir, I was only—”
“Delete it.”
The photographer hesitated.
Then Dante stepped closer.
“Or we can discuss why you were photographing a restricted terrace during a private event.”
The man's face drained.
He lowered the camera.
Dante looked toward Henderson.
“Miss Hayes is finished working for the evening.”
Henderson blinked.
“Sir?”
Dante's expression hardened.
“Was I unclear?”
“No, Mr. Moretti.”
I stared.
“Excuse me?”
Dante turned toward me.
His eyes softened slightly.
“Come with me, Clara.”
I folded my arms.
“I don't even know you.”
Something almost like amusement touched his mouth.
“You kissed me.”
I felt my face burn.
“That was an emergency.”
He smiled.
“Then let's discuss the emergency somewhere private.”
I stared at him.
Then looked toward Henderson.
My boss nodded frantically.
“Go, Miss Hayes.”
May you like
I swallowed.
And followed the most dangerous man in New York into the night.
