My Relentless Suitor Chased Me Through A Gala — You Won’t Believe Who Rescued Me
Part 1
The autumn rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Tyler’s estate.
I pressed my back against the cold marble wall of the hallway.
My heart slammed against my ribs beneath my emerald silk gown.
I held my breath and listened for the heavy thud of his footsteps.
“Megan, I know you are nearby.”
Brian’s voice echoed through the empty corridor.
It was earnest and utterly oblivious to the dozens of guests staring from the main ballroom.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Mortification burned a hot path down my chest.
This was exactly why I had rejected his proposal three weeks ago.
Brian was the wealthy heir to the West Corporation.
He possessed a generous heart and impeccable breeding.
My father had been absolutely delighted by the prospect of our match.
But Brian had one fatal flaw that I could not overlook.
He possessed not a single shred of social awareness.
His courtship had been a relentless, exhausting assault.
He recited overwrought poetry at wildly inappropriate moments.
He sent floral arrangements so massive they required three men to carry them into our foyer.
He shouted declarations of his devotion across crowded restaurant dining rooms.
When I had gently declined his proposal, I cited our deep incompatibility.
He had simply nodded thoughtfully.
He patted my hand as if I were a confused child.
He assured me he understood I was just nervous about the sheer magnitude of our love.
He had not understood a single word I said.
“Megan, my darling dove, your beauty outshines the stars themselves.”
I could hear him now.
He was just around the corner, comparing me to celestial bodies.
My cheeks flamed with intense heat.
I needed to escape.
I needed to hide until he finally accepted that I would never be his darling dove.
My eyes fell upon a heavy oak door.
It was slightly ajar.
I did not pause to consider the wisdom of my actions.
I slipped inside the dark room.
I pressed the door shut behind me.
My trembling fingers found the lock and turned it with a soft click.
The room was surprisingly warm.
It was dimly lit by a single branch of candles and a glowing fireplace.
I leaned heavily against the solid wood of the door.
I closed my eyes in profound relief as Brian’s footsteps passed by outside.
“Thank heavens,” I whispered to the empty room.
“I beg your pardon.”
My eyes flew open in sheer panic.
The massive bedroom was far from empty.
Near the crackling fireplace stood a man.
He was in his shirt sleeves and a partially unbuttoned waistcoat.
His dark hair was damp.
He held a heavy crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid.
His expression registered a mix of surprise and amusement.
He was quite possibly the most handsome man I had ever seen.
He possessed a strong jaw and sharp, high cheekbones.
His eyes were so intensely blue they reminded me of the deepest parts of the ocean.
The intensity of his stare made my breath catch in my throat.
“I…”
My voice came out as a pathetic squeak.
“I am terribly sorry.”
“I thought this room was completely empty.”
The man’s lips curved into a slow, devastating smile.
It did alarming things to my already racing pulse.
“Clearly,” he murmured, his voice rich and deep.
“I shall leave immediately, of course.”
“Please forgive my unwarranted intrusion.”
I reached blindly behind me for the doorknob.
“Megan, where have you hidden yourself, my ethereal enchantress?”
Brian’s voice was suddenly right outside the door.
I froze in sheer terror.
The man in shirt sleeves raised one dark, inquisitive eyebrow.
“Might that be Brian?” he asked.
His tone was thick with barely suppressed laughter.
“You know him?” I asked in a hushed whisper.
“We went to university together.”
He set down his crystal glass on a nearby table.
He crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“I take it you are the object of his current devotion?”
“I am the unwilling recipient of his attentions,” I corrected firmly.
“I refused his proposal three weeks ago.”
“He appears to believe my refusal was merely feminine modesty.”
The stranger threw back his handsome head and laughed quietly.
“That sounds exactly like the Brian I remember.”
“He once courted a French ambassador’s daughter for six months after she got engaged to someone else.”
Despite my precarious predicament, I felt my lips twitch into a tiny smile.
“What happened to her?” I asked.
“She married the other fellow and moved to Paris.”
He shook his head, still smiling warmly.
“He means well.”
“But subtlety has never been his strong suit.”
“Megan, are you perhaps exploring the portrait gallery?”
Brian’s voice was now directly outside the heavy oak door.
My eyes widened in absolute, blinding panic.
If Brian found me alone in a gentleman’s bedroom, the scandal would be catastrophic.
My reputation in our social circles would be utterly destroyed.
“Please,” I whispered, meeting the stranger’s gaze with desperate appeal.
He held up one hand to silence me.
“The window curtains,” he ordered softly.
He gestured toward the heavy velvet drapes flanking the rain-streaked windows.
“Quickly now.”
I did not hesitate for a single second.
I darted across the luxurious carpet.
I slipped behind the thick curtains just as a loud knock sounded at the door.
“One moment,” the stranger called out.
His voice carried the bored authority of a man accustomed to being obeyed.
I heard the rustle of fabric.
The lock clicked loudly.
The doorknob slowly began to turn.
