Page 1 of Choosing Stella

Chapter One

The penthouse door clicked shut behind me, and Antonio Bellacorte smiled like a man who’d already decided how this would end.

He was wrong.

I slipped off one black heel and left it beside the marble bar.

His eyes dropped to my bare foot, then came back to my face.

“Starting already?”

“You booked the chase.”

“I did.”

“So chase me.”

I kicked off the second heel and ran.

The muted throb of the casino lived somewhere far below us, buried under forty floors of steel, glass, and money. Up here, the penthouse was all thick carpet, low amber light, polished marble, and expensive furniture arranged with enough open space for what Antonio liked.

It suited me too, when I was the one choosing it.

I cut around the back of the sectional, black dress riding high on my thighs. Antonio came after me without hurrying. That was part of the game. He knew the limits. I knew the exits. The bedroom was in bounds. The balcony wasn’t. No restraints tonight. No bruises above the neckline. If I said stop, everything stopped.

The rules made the fear delicious.

It wasn’t real fear, and it never crossed that line.

This was the kind I could turn on and off.

I glanced over my shoulder.

Antonio had shed his jacket. His dark hair was silvered at the temples, his white shirt open at the throat, and his lean body moved with the easy confidence of a man accustomed to getting what he paid for.

I grinned and darted toward the bedroom.

His hand caught the back of my dress before I made it.

The fabric pulled tight across my breasts.

I laughed, twisted free, and slapped his hand away.

“Too slow.”

His smile sharpened.

“That sounded like a challenge.”

“It was.”

I backed away from him, pulse jumping as I gave him room to try again.

Antonio advanced.

I let him get close enough that his fingers brushed my waist, then ducked under his arm and ran for the bedroom. This time he followed fast.

My bare feet hit the thick carpet. The open bedroom doorway waited six steps away.