Sitting in my little blue Volkswagen I touched up my make-up one last time and frantically ran a finger beneath my eye to remove a smudge of wayward eyeshadow. I met my own eyes in the vanity mirror, sternly giving myself the peptalk. 'You will not drink a single cocktail tonight. You will be sober. You will make good life choices.'

Sighing impatiently I slammed the visor closed and opened the door to step out into the crowded parking lot. Tugging my short red dress down self consciously as I stood. This year I had worn leggings beneath my dress, and black knee length boots. I donned my black leather jacket against the chill. I had even worn a black scarf to cover up my plunging neckline. The light material studded with little silver accents. I looked put together and a little badass at the same time. I hoped I looked unapproachable, unavailable, and not the anxious mess I actually was.

Professionally I was poised and confident. Hell I was one of the youngest transplant surgeons on the east coast. But socially? Socially speaking I was severely lacking. All the pressure of school and studying had left little time to cultivate relationships. I was nervous in social situations and as a result I tended to make an absolute idiot out of myself. Like last year.

I pushed away the intrusive thought as I made my way to the front entrance of the hotel and presented my gold embossed invitation to the two gentleman outside the ballroom entrance. One offered to take my coat but I declined with a smile. I took a deep  breath and entered the ballroom, several hundred nurses, doctors and other hospital staff sat at tables decorated in silver and white candles inside large round globes dusted with fake snow. It was lovely, the hospital always spent a fortune on these events and I felt it was my obligation to attend since other surgeons always urged me to come and sit with them. Even though such adventures sent my anxiety through the roof.

I made my way to the bar, ordered a Coke with light ice then made my way around the room looking for Dr. Harrelson and his wife Georgia. They were always a delight and did most of the talking, leaving me to people watch and pick at my food until it was an acceptable hour to leave. I'd be seen, fulfil my obligation and most importantly stay sober.

I smiled as I finally as I found Georgia in the crowd, then frowned as a broad shouldered man stepped in my path.

"Well hello!" He said in a low rumble, as he saw recognition flit across my face. His perfect mouth quirked into a secretive smile as he moved to whisper in my ear. "I hoped you would make an appearance, why didn't you call?"

Swallowing down panic at coming face to face with the sins of my past I managed an awkward smile. "I'm so sorry, I lost my phone and didn't know how to reach you..." I lied. How could I possibly tell the man I had lost my virginity to that I'd been too embarrassed to call him...not to mention embarrassed at all the things I had done to him, and him to me.

His smile widened wolfishly at my attempt sidestep him and before I could turn and walk away his large hand had gripped my elbow. Not hard, the pressure was light but I could feel the heat of his touch as he steered me to an empty seat to his right. "Come, sit with me." He urged with his voice sending heat straight to my core. "We can catch up, I'd love to know what one of my best employees has been up to all year."

I inhaled indignantly, prepared to denounce any 'ownership' of my person, like a true feminist. But then it clicked. No wonder I hadn't seen him roaming the Halls of the hospital. He. Fucking. Owned. It. This was Marc Jacobson, the CEO and owner of one of the most philanthropic hospital chains in the United States. Not only was he a brilliant surgeon in his own right but his family was ridiculously wealthy.

I snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed the delicate flute like it was a shot of whiskey.

I had never been so incredibly embarrassed and turned on in all my life. He quirked a dark eyebrow at my crass display and I made a show of delicately coughing, "Uhm sorry, swallowed my gum. Got a bit choked." I finished lamely taking the proffered seat.

I glanced around at our table companions and paled. I was seated amongst the most wealthy investors and high society guests. I crossed my legs nervously as Marc introduced me by my first name, the only name I had given him. Allison. The way my name fell from his lips sent another wave of want through me

"Welcome, Allison!" One of the men at the table said jovially. "And what do you do here at Mercy?"

"I'm a heart surgeon." I smiled as I took a sip of the table wine.

I saw a momentary flash of surprise cross Marc's face and I stifled a laugh.

Three refills later I was talking and laughing with everyone at the table. I started as Marc's hand came to rest on my leg. Not high up on my thigh, but closer to my knee. He leaned close to my ear nuzzling a stray curl from his path as he whispered in my ear, "This gala has certainly been far from the boring affair I feared. But I would love nothing more than to steal you away from your admirers."

I laughed nervously, "Would you now?" I met his eyes, my grey to his glacial blue.

He gave me a winning smile as my hand slid into his. "Let's get outta here." He urged...