Shit. Shit. Oh, shit!

Chi shuddered beside me, but I barely felt it, struggling to contain my own nerves.

"Well," I gulped, removing my hand from Axel's, the warmth of his palm still imprinted on my skin, "in that case, it's nice to officially meet you. In person." My voice was scratchy; how I wished to have a cocktail that very instant, to parch my thirst and soothe my apprehension.

As if reading my mind, Chi leaned in towards my ear. "I'll go order drinks now, then?"

My hurried nod hurt my neck. "Yes, thank you."

Violet, oblivious to the tension in the air, kissed her brother's cheek. "On that note, I need to go meet with Maisie and the others," she said, her voice tinged with a sweetness I'd never heard before. Strange—in our meetings to talk about wedding stuff, when speaking of Axel, Violet had been reserved, almost quiet. But now, face-to-face, she treated him as if he was her favorite sibling, the light of her life.

Because he's paying for it all.

She flashed me a tight smile, turning away from her brother. "All's in order for tonight?"

I nodded. "Going over last minute details with some of the vendors in a few minutes, actually."

Violet thanked me, then sauntered off as Chi flurried over to the bar, leaving Axel and I alone.

"So..." he said, tapping his fingers on the check-in desk, looking anywhere but at me. He was taller than I remembered, sharp as hell in his crisp gray suit with a navy shirt underneath, once more open to reveal his ginger and brown chest hairs, and that smooth, soft skin I'd gotten my hands all over.

But unlike the night before, he harbored no interest in me; no spark of lust in his eye, no open, fuck me body language like when he'd handed me that glass of champagne while standing in front of his window.

"So," I said, folding my arms, suddenly embarrassed in his presence. I peered down into my blouse, remembering how he'd torn my clothes off, how he'd groped me, held me, kissed me. "Axel Levine." I cleared my throat. "That might have been nice to know beforehand."

This was him. Axel Levine, CEO of Levine Luxury Group. Kind-hearted philanthropist, world-traveler, business-savvy billionaire. The man whose office had contacted me to organize his baby sister's wedding; a main office in New York City where I'd sent all the bills for this extravagant affair I couldn't afford to fuck up.

A man I hadn't expected to meet so soon, let alone sleep with.

He scrubbed a hand over the dark red scruff on his chin. "You didn't want to know, remember?"

"I didn't." I stared at him intently, but he still wouldn't return my gaze. His hand had moved to the back of his neck, gently massaging it as he rolled his shoulders. Not once did he slouch, or give off the impression he was uncomfortable, out of place; he didn't give off any impression. His demeanor was borderline grumpy, a complete one-eighty from the ridiculously outgoing man I'd met the day before. "I wanted a one-night-stand with a stranger, and that's what I got, but..."

"But I'm not a stranger." Finally, he accorded me a glance. His eyes weren't cold, but they were far from scorching with passion as they'd been before. He was a stone cold stranger, despite what he'd said. I didn't know this person, and wasn't sure I ever wanted to. "I'm Axel Levine. Lev, for those in the know."

If I'd been drinking something, I'd have spit it all out. "Lev? Lev? Hold on a second." I moved to stand closer to the counter, to help keep myself upright. Lev was the signature used in all our communications. "You're who I've been chatting with this whole time, via email? I thought...oh my God, I thought I was speaking to an assistant or a secretary."

Axel blinked at me. He was a statue—a sexy statue, for sure—and any emotions or physical needs were stuffed beneath his hardened surface. "I handle my personal business on my own. Violet's wedding," his eyes flickered, "is personal business."

Violet. A wave of shivers coursed through me. Not only was Axel technically my employer, but he was Violet's brother. The bride's brother. Of all mishaps, of all mistakes I could have made, this one was unforgivable.

"I didn't know." I wrung my hands, peeking down at my shoes, sensing my toes curling inside. "And I didn't know what you looked like, either. To be fair, you never show up in the press. You never show your face."

"For a reason."

My hands tightened into fists. There was nonchalance, and there was downright rudeness; and Axel was being rude. He'd concealed his identity from me. He'd been the one to play games, and yet here he sat on his high horse, surrounded by his heaps of money, in his domain, talking down to me. I was the outsider, and he had no kindness to give me.

Where was the easygoing CEO from last night? The seductive flirt who didn't care if I was beneath him, most definitely not as wealthy, and who shared his opulent champagne with me as if it hadn't cost him a penny?

"None of this bothers you?" I arched an eyebrow, ignoring my legs as they quaked, almost colliding into the check-in desk. Raising my voice with this man could be dangerous; he was still the one paying me, and if I were to offend him, he could remove me from this gig at any moment. Surely someone like him had multiple back-up options to call at the last minute.

"Why should it?" He shrugged and studied his nails. "It was fun. No strings attached, right? Isn't that what you wanted, Vivienne?"

My hairs stood on edge as he said my name, a slight lull to the syllables, the consonants rolling off his tongue with ease, as if he'd uttered it so often it was natural. Too natural.

"Wait." I squinted at him, cocking my head. "Did you know who I was, last night? Were you aware that I was your sister's wedding planner when we," I lowered my voice, "fucked? Before we fucked?"

A slight flinch at my word was the only reaction I got. Axel remained otherwise unphased by the entire conversation and its implications. "Yes, I did." The tiniest of flushes swept over his cheeks, and for a second, I thought I'd caught him about to smirk.

But he continued on stoic as ever, unaffected by what his knowledge had done, by what his sexual craving had created. He'd spotted me across the room, knew exactly who I was, and wanted me, regardless of the cost. Regardless of my role in his sister's wedding. And now he didn't care that he'd royally screwed me over?

Of course not—he has heaps of money that he thinks can fix anything.

"Is this amusing to you?" I kept my voice down, but I nearly hissed at the sharpness of my words. I wanted to apologize immediately, to excuse myself to go throw up and hyperventilate, but I'd stirred the pot by pushing Axel to talk. By asking pointed questions I shouldn't have wanted the answers to.

He quirked an eyebrow, his body turning rigid; more so than it already was. "Do I look amused?"

"You look completely uncaring of the situation." I couldn't control my tone, and coughed as I glanced away, my face overheating.

I needed to proceed with caution, and yet this brooding man was pushing my buttons, testing my limits. The more he stood there, curt and contemplative, borderline disagreeable, the more I wanted to physically shove him, shake him, make him realize how much trouble he might get me in.

But the mere notion of touching him woke all the lusty butterflies from the night before; and that couldn't happen again. Ever.

"There is no situation. We had sex," he said, his voice grating, sensually low in his throat. "And to me, sex is sex. I thought you felt the same, or so you heavily implied multiple times all night. You weren't concerned about my identity, so why would it be an issue now?" He swept a hand through his hair, the deep red in his curls catching the light. "I'm not too bothered about who I sleep with, so long as it's good and legal."

My mouth plopped open, and I had to physically push my jaw back up. "It's not legal, that's the thing." My mind raced with all the contracts, the clauses I'd signed when joining L.A. Love Wedding Planners, the paperwork, the strict rules. The threats from my firm when I landed this job, since they didn't trust me to begin with, as I usually handled smaller contracts. There was so much I'd given up to become a part of the Wedding Industry Professionals Association, dignity and pride that I'd swallowed to get this far. And now this?

One particular section flared in and out of my brain, and had been since the moment I'd found out who Axel was, and remembered what I'd done with him.

"Clients signing the checks to pay for the wedding are considered employers. Personal relationships with said clients/employers, except for preexisting relationships, are not allowed for the duration of the event being planned."

Not even twenty-four hours at the location for this prestigious job and I'd already broken one of the biggest rules.

"Illegal?" Axel licked his lips. "Or frowned upon? There's a difference."

"I don't think you understand." I sensed the urge to tear my fingers through my hair, to scream out all my troubles in Axel's gorgeous, unbothered face. "It is illegal, for me. I signed documents, I have obligations..."

Axel didn't budge, didn't frown or smile or give a single damn about the consequences of his actions, of his cravings. "Do you really think anyone will know? Aside from your assistant, that is," he sent a glance towards the restaurant bar, where Chi was, "and I presume they won't spill your mistake to your supervisors, will they?"

I'd never said the word mistake out loud, so for Axel to voice it, for him to nearly cringe upon saying it, woke discomfort in my belly. I didn't want him to be a mistake, because nothing about our time together had felt wrong—not until now. It felt naughty, a tad dangerous, but never, never illegal. Never forbidden.

But it was forbidden, wasn't it?

"They won't." I nibbled on my lower lip, worrying that my eyes might fill with tears; a typical anxious response on my part. "But if my company sent someone to watch me, to snoop around—"

"—why would they watch you?" Axel's attention was piqued, at last, his eyes widening as he perked up.

I swallowed the lump that had been stuck at the top of my throat. "This is the most high-profile gig of the year," I said, quickly scanning my mind for a way to cover up my real thoughts. He didn't need to know about how my boss doubted my capabilities and had considered giving the gig to someone else, though Axel had asked for me, specifically. He was surely on the verge of firing me already; I wouldn't worsen the situation. "It's normal for the firm to keep an eye on it, on me. Our reputation is at stake."

It wasn't a full lie. My firm was filled with greedy planners who really only cared about their commission, and considered me a rookie planner. I was disliked, distrusted, and no one thought I could do a decent job with this. Less so with something as important as a Levine wedding.

"My accreditations, my license, my career..." I huffed. "They're all in jeopardy now."

"Well, that's on you, Vivienne," said Axel, brushing off a bit of lint from his otherwise pristine jacket. "If it so happens that someone is spying on you, they won't know what happened between us by looking at me, that's for sure. You, on the other hand," he eyed me from head to toe, wrinkling his nose, "might want to learn to recompose yourself in public. We'll be forced to be around each other quite often for the next few days, since you're organizing this event, and I'm paying for it. I'm very," his lips twitched, as if about to slide into a grin, "hands-on."

My heart skipped a beat when recalling just how hands-on he was. Hands on my waist, my ass, my breasts; hands on my thighs as he spread them apart to—

From Axel's sudden expression switch—he appeared friendlier, nicer—I perceived that someone was approaching behind me. I flipped around to find Harvey Levine, the younger brother, heading our way.

Now I knew why he looked familiar—he and Axel had near identical features, though Harvey's demeanor was more reserved, his face more youthful, less lined with stress.

His arrival was the perfect opportunity to rush off and break this conversation. And hopefully I would never find myself alone with Axel Levine again. Ever.

If I did, I didn't know what would happen—if we'd yell, slap each other, or end up naked. If he'd fire me because he couldn't stand being so near me; or if he couldn't resist me and it was too dangerous for our work relationship. I didn't know if we'd fuck until our bodies were in agony, and if such a violent attraction would cost me my job.

Because despite how off-standish he was, I couldn't help being drawn in by his appeal.

And if I let him win, I'd be done for.

"No." I shook myself, squared my shoulders, and slipped a few paces away from the check-in desk, wary that if I continued this conversation, all the hotel guests would stare. And if they stared...well, Axel was right. I wasn't composed. "They won't know it from me, either." I gripped my clipboard close to my chest and wandered off, doing my hardest to hide my trembling legs, the sweat gathering at my hairline. "I'll see you later, Mr. Levine."

☼☼☼