A sharp beam of morning sunlight sliced through the gap in the heavy blackout curtains, hitting Alexandrea directly in the eyes.

She groaned. Her head felt like it had been split open with an axe.

She rolled over, seeking the dark. Her fingers brushed against the sheets. They were impossibly smooth. Egyptian cotton. High thread count.

Her brain, sluggish and throbbing, registered the texture. This wasn't her cheap Ikea bed linen.

Alexandrea's eyes snapped open.

She stared at a massive crystal chandelier hanging from a vaulted ceiling. Intricate crown molding lined the walls.

Panic hit her chest like a physical blow. She sat up so fast the room spun. She looked down at herself. Her jacket and boots were gone, but she was still wearing her black t-shirt and tactical pants.

She let out a shaky breath, but her heart was still hammering against her ribs. She couldn't remember anything after the third glass of whiskey. She remembered a man grabbing her. She remembered fighting. Then... nothing.

Alexandrea slid her bare feet onto the cold hardwood floor. She moved silently, her bodyguard training taking over. She crept toward the bedroom door and pressed her ear against the wood.

She heard the low hum of a coffee machine.

She held her breath, her combat training instantly overriding her hangover. She carefully pulled the door open just a fraction of an inch, peering through the narrow gap to assess the situation. When she spotted a strange man standing at the marble island with his back to her, her body coiled with tension. He was shirtless, his broad shoulders and tattooed back fully exposed.

Alexandrea slipped out silently, stepping backward to grab the heaviest object in reach-a heavy blue-and-white porcelain vase from the console table-and raised it above her head, ready to swing.

The man turned around, holding two mugs of steaming coffee.

It was Cassidy.

He looked at Alexandrea. He looked at the vase raised above her head. He didn't flinch. Instead, a slow, amused smirk spread across his face. He let out a loud laugh.

"Good morning, sunshine," Cassidy said, leaning his hip against the marble counter. His eyes dragged down her messy hair and wrinkled clothes.

Alexandrea froze. Her mouth fell open. Her arms slowly lowered, the heavy vase pulling her muscles down.

"Cassidy?" she stammered. "Why... why am I here? What happened last night?"

Cassidy's smirk vanished. He set the coffee mugs down. He looked down at the floor, his expression suddenly serious and full of regret. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Last night?" Cassidy said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. "You were wild, Alexandrea. I tried to stop you, but you just kept coming at me. I'm exhausted."

The words hit Alexandrea like a freight train. All the blood drained from her face. Her stomach dropped to the floor.

She dropped the vase. It hit the rug with a heavy thud.

She brought both hands up to cover her face. A wave of pure, suffocating shame washed over her. She had slept with her college senior. She had forced herself on him. She was a monster.

Cassidy watched her shoulders shake. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He couldn't keep the act up anymore.

He walked around the island, picked up one of the mugs, and nudged her arm with his elbow.

"I'm kidding, idiot," Cassidy laughed. "We just slept under the same roof. You passed out on the couch."

Alexandrea dropped her hands. Her pale face instantly turned bright red. Her eyes narrowed into furious slits.

Cassidy shoved the warm mug into her hands and held his hands up in surrender.

Alexandrea gripped the mug tightly. The heat seeped into her cold palms. She let out a long, shaky breath, the crushing weight of panic finally lifting off her chest.

Alexandrea took a sip of the black coffee. The bitter liquid helped clear the remaining fog in her brain.

She stood awkwardly by the marble island, using her free hand to try and comb the tangles out of her hair.

"Thank you," she muttered, looking down at the floor. "For last night. For getting me out of there."

Cassidy set his mug down. The playful smirk returned to his lips. He took a step closer to her and held out his right hand.

"Don't thank me yet," he said.

Alexandrea looked at his hand. Wrapped around the thick part of his palm, right between his thumb and index finger, was a layer of white medical gauze. A small spot of dark, dried blood had seeped through the center of the bandage.

Alexandrea's eyes widened. "What happened to your hand?"

Cassidy leaned forward, invading her personal space. "This is the physical evidence of your assault last night."

Alexandrea's heart skipped a beat. She took a step back, her lower back pressing against the cold edge of the marble island.

"You just said nothing happened!" she said, her voice rising in panic.

Cassidy shrugged. He looked down at her with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "I said we didn't go all the way. But you definitely caused bodily harm. You threw yourself at me and started biting me."

Alexandrea's face burned. The heat rushed up her neck and settled in her cheeks.

Her mind went completely blank. The word "biting" sent a wave of nausea and sheer terror through her system. With her five years of elite bodyguard training and former Mossad-level combat skills, she couldn't fathom losing control to the point of launching such an unhinged, violent attack on someone while blacked out. She squeezed her eyes shut, horrified by the image of herself behaving like a feral animal.

She pressed her palms together in front of her chest and bowed her head. "I am so sorry. I drank too much. I wasn't in my right mind. Please forgive me."

Cassidy stared at her. She was actually trembling. He was trying so hard not to laugh that his stomach muscles hurt.

He tapped his uninjured fingers against the marble counter. "Sorry isn't going to cut it, Alexandrea. You have to take responsibility for me."

The word "responsibility" made Alexandrea's blood run cold. She thought he wanted to date her. She thought he wanted a relationship.

She shook her head frantically. "I can't! I can't take responsibility like that. There's... there's someone else in my heart. I can't."

Cassidy's fingers stopped tapping. The mention of someone else-Barron-sent a flash of dark irritation through his eyes.

He pushed the irritation down. He stepped closer, trapping her between his body and the counter. He was a foot taller than her, and his bare chest was inches from her face.

Alexandrea held her breath. She didn't dare look up.

"I can pay you!" she blurted out, her voice desperate. "I'll pay your medical bills! I'll pay for your emotional distress! Just name a price."

Cassidy let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. He was a billionaire. He owned half of Silicon Valley. And this bodyguard was offering him money.

He raised his left hand and flicked her hard on the forehead.

"Ouch!" Alexandrea gasped, her hands flying up to cover her head. She glared up at him.

Cassidy's face was completely serious now. He looked straight into her eyes.

"I don't want your money," Cassidy said softly. "I want you to agree to one condition."

Alexandrea swallowed hard. Her throat clicked. She stared at Cassidy, waiting for the axe to fall.

Cassidy slowly reached over with his left hand and began to unwrap the gauze on his right hand.

He pulled the white tape away and held his hand up to her face.

Alexandrea squinted. There, pressed deep into his skin, was a perfect, angry red bite mark. It looked exactly like a dog bite. There was absolutely nothing romantic or sexual about it.

Her brain processed the image. She realized he had been playing her the entire time.

Anger flared in her chest. She shoved both hands against his bare chest, pushing him back.

"You jerk!" she yelled.

Cassidy stumbled back a half-step, throwing his hands up in the air. He burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the high ceilings. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Your face was just too good."

Alexandrea ground her teeth together. She spun around and marched toward the living room to find her boots. She was leaving.

Cassidy caught up to her in two strides. He grabbed her wrist, his fingers wrapping firmly around her pulse point.

"Wait," he said, his laughter fading. "I'm serious about the condition."

Alexandrea stopped. She yanked her arm, but he didn't let go. "What do you want?"

"I know your dad runs an underground MMA gym in Brooklyn," Cassidy said. "I want you to get me in. And I want you to be my sparring partner."

Alexandrea frowned. She looked him up and down. He had muscle, sure, but it was expensive, gym-built muscle.

"You're a tech CEO," she said bluntly. "That gym smells like blood and cheap sweat. The guys there will break your ribs for fun. You'll hate it."

"I have a lot of stress," Cassidy lied smoothly. "I need to hit something. And I want you to train me. You owe me for the hand."

Alexandrea stared at him. It was a ridiculous request, but she did bite him. She sighed, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll text you the address."

Cassidy smiled. It was a genuine, victorious smile. He had his excuse to see her again.

Alexandrea walked to the couch. She shoved her feet into her heavy boots and bent down to grab her phone off the glass coffee table.

She pressed the power button. The screen lit up.

There was a massive block of notifications. Fifteen missed calls. All from Annie, her coworker at Santana Corp.

Alexandrea looked at the time at the top of the screen.

11:45 AM.

Her lungs seized. The air was sucked out of the room.

"Oh my god," she shrieked. "I'm three hours late!"

Barron Santana fired people for being three minutes late. Three hours was a death sentence.

She grabbed her jacket and sprinted toward the door like the floor was on fire.

"Hey! Let my driver take you!" Cassidy called out, following her to the hallway.

"No time!" Alexandrea yelled back.

She yanked the heavy door open, ran into the hallway, and let the door slam shut behind her with a deafening bang.

Cassidy stood in the sudden silence of his suite. He looked at the closed door. He looked down at the bite mark on his hand. He rubbed his thumb over the broken skin, a soft, self-deprecating smile touching his lips.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed his assistant.

"Push my flight back to Silicon Valley," Cassidy ordered. "Indefinitely."

Down on the street, Alexandrea burst out of the hotel lobby. She ran to the curb, waving frantically at a yellow cab.

The cab screeched to a halt. She threw herself into the backseat.

"Santana Corp headquarters," she gasped, her heart pounding against her ribs. "Step on it."

As the cab merged into the chaotic Manhattan traffic, a cold, heavy dread settled in the pit of Alexandrea's stomach. She was walking straight into a slaughterhouse.