Page 143 of The Silver Fox Brother

I glance around the lobby, catching glimpses of the sea view through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sun is beginning to set over the water, casting orange and gold across the horizon.

I turn back toward the elevators. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement. The elevator doors open and I hear the sharp clatter of heels on marble. I turn fully and see Winter.

She's absolutely breathtaking.

Her dress is black, fitted, sweeping the groundas she walks. There's a slit up the side that reveals her thigh with every step. The neckline plunges just enough—not too risky, but still extremely sexy.

Her hair is tousled, blonde waves falling loose around her shoulders. She's wearing just the right amount of jewelry—something that sparkles at her neck and ears, catching the light.

She walks toward me and I feel my dick twitch in my pants. I swallow and force myself to fix my face, to maintain composure. Winter reaches me and nods in greeting.

I glance at my watch, then back at her. "You're late."

She shakes her head slightly but doesn't respond.

What I really want to do is reach out, grab her, take her back upstairs to my suite and fuck her ten ways from Sunday. But that might not be what she wants. I've been trying to read her ever since we were together the first time, and I still can't tell. I motion with my hand for us to walk toward the exit.

The Maybach is waiting outside. The driver steps out immediately.

"Good evening, Mr. Sterling. Miss Hayes."

Winter walks past me toward the open door. As she does, I get a whiff of her—shampoo, something floral, and her perfume, subtle yet feminine. Sweet. Seductive. I inhale deeply through my nostrils, filling my lungs with the scent before I can stop myself.

Then I walk around to the other side of the car and get in.

The driver closes both doors and circles around to the front. The engine starts and we pull away from the resort. I lookover at Winter. My eyes drift down to her legs, to her exposed thigh visible through the slit in the dress. She turns and looks my way as our eyes meet.

"You look stunning," I say.

Twenty minutes later, the car pulls up in front of the banquet hall and the chauffeur lets us out. There's a red carpet leading up the steps into the entrance. I can see Winter staring at the front of the building. It's elaborate—grand columns, dramatic lighting, the kind of venue that makes a statement.

A few photographers and paparazzi are positioned out front, cameras ready. This type of function always draws them. Dignitaries, celebrities, billionaires and millionaires—the kind of crowd I'm used to navigating.

Winter has been to events like this before. She traveled with Rowan enough times to know the routine. She begins walking up the steps, grabbing the hem of her dress to lift it slightly. I put my hand out and our eyes lock.

"Allow me," I say.

Winter places her hand in mine and I help guide her up the stairs. The electric warmth between our hands is immediate, a sensation that travels up my arm and settles in my chest.

We walk through the entrance together and are greeted by the event coordinator standing near the guest list podium. She's dressed impeccably, hair pulled into a low bun, professional smile in place.

"Sterling plus one," I say.

She scans the list and nods.

"Yes, hello, Mr. Sterling. Welcome."

She motions for us to move along toward the ballroom. Inside, the space is massive. High ceilings, crystal chandeliers, tables draped in white linens and set with fine china. People are already mingling—some I recognize, many I don't.

I glance over at Winter and lean in slightly, lowering my voice.

"You should be a natural in here. Don't be nervous."

Winter looks at me and smiles. "I'm not nervous."

My lips almost curve into a smile. But I don't let them. Before we reach the seating area, I'm stopped by a couple of business colleagues.

"Sterling. Didn't expect to see you here," one of them says.