Billionaire Catches A Woman Before She Slips On Ice Outside His Gala, Not Knowing She’ll Love Him
The Icy Encounter and the Golden Ballroom
Belle Thompson’s heels slid out from under her just as her fingers reached for the icy railing. She would have hit the pavement hard if it weren’t for the strong arms that caught her midfall.
“Wo, careful,” a deep voice said, his grip steady as steel.
Her heart thudded in her ears as she found herself chest-to-chest with a man in a black tuxedo. His coat draped open, snowflakes clinging to his broad shoulders.
His hand was firmly around her waist. When she looked up, her breath caught again—not from the cold. He was beautiful in a dangerously expensive way.
“I am so sorry,” Belle stammered, pushing her windblown curls out of her face. “The sidewalk’s like glass.”
“I noticed,” he said, his lips lifting slightly but not quite a smile. “Are you hurt?”
“No, just my pride.”
He helped her stand straight. She brushed the snow off her coat, cheeks burning.
“I was just trying to get a peek inside,” she admitted, glancing at the glittering building behind him.
The glass windows revealed a ballroom glowing with chandeliers, filled with tuxedos, gowns, and string music.
“I didn’t realize the sidewalk was a death trap.”
“You wanted to get in?” he asked.
Belle hesitated. “Not exactly. I was delivering pastries to the kitchen, but I got curious.”
His eyes flicked down to the plain black coat she wore, dotted with powdered sugar.
“You’re not on the guest list.”
She gave a laugh. “Definitely not.”
A beat passed. Then he said, “Come inside.”
“What?”
He slipped his hand into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a sleek black card.
“You’re with me.”
She blinked. “I can’t. Seriously, I’m not dressed for it, and I just delivered mini cheesecakes.”
“I owe you. You almost cracked your skull on my sidewalk.”
His eyes twinkled with something unreadable. “Besides, I’m curious about you.”
He offered his arm. Belle hesitated. Common sense screamed to walk away, but curiosity tugged harder. She took his arm.
Inside the gala, the warmth soaked into her skin. The room was breathtaking: towering ceilings, marble floors, and golden walls. Waiters in white gloves carried trays of champagne.
A string quartet played near a grand staircase. Everyone looked like they belonged in a magazine.
Next to her mystery tuxedo man, she felt like a stray cat that wandered into a jewelry store. He led her through the crowd like he owned it.
“Wait,” she whispered, tugging his arm. “Who are you?”
He stopped beside an ice sculpture that looked like a frozen swan and turned to her.
“Orion Maddox.”
Her jaw dropped. Orion Maddox—the billionaire real estate mogul. The man who had just made headlines for donating $20 million to rebuild a children’s hospital.
He was the man who was currently on the cover of half the magazines at the grocery store. And he just invited her into his gala.
“You’re him.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Guilty.”
Belle exhaled. “I delivered pastries to your kitchen. I’m not your type of guest.”
“You’re exactly the kind of guest I want tonight.”
She looked up at him, unsure whether to laugh or run. “Why?”
“Because you didn’t pretend to know me. You didn’t act impressed. You were just curious and honest.”
He paused. “Most people don’t give me that anymore.”
A server stopped beside them. Orion took two champagne flutes and handed her one.
“To near disasters,” he said, raising his glass, “and unexpected guests.”
Belle clinked his glass lightly. “To sidewalks with terrible maintenance.”
Despite herself, she laughed, and he did too. They found a quiet table tucked behind a velvet curtain.
He asked questions about her bakery job, her favorite desserts, and the worst customer she ever had.
She found herself answering without overthinking, forgetting that she was across from one of the richest men in the country.
“You don’t seem like a billionaire,” she said finally.
“Do you want me to?”
“No. Honestly, I thought you’d be cold or arrogant.”
“And what do you think now?”
“I think you’re better at catching people than I expected.”
His eyes locked with hers. “I think you’re better at surprising people than you know.”
For a moment, the music faded and the lights blurred. The sounds of clinking glasses and polite laughter disappeared.
