Madison
I woke to the soft glow of morning light filtering through unfamiliar curtains. For one blissful moment, I lived in peaceful ignorance before reality crashed like a bucket of ice water.
Alexander’s penthouse. Alexander’s bed.
Beside me, Alexander Knight slept soundly, his usually severe expression relaxed in slumber. One muscular arm was flung carelessly above his head, the other resting on his bare chest.
Oh god. What did I do?
Memories from the night before flooded back with merciless clarity. The party. Jackson. Alexander’s text asking me to stay. The whiskey.
The kiss. My kiss. I had kissed him.
Heat rushed to my face as I remembered how I’d practically thrown myself at him. How my hands had tangled in his hair, how I’d moaned when he’d lifted me onto the kitchen counter, how I’d begged him to-
Stop. I needed to get out of here.
Moving with exaggerated care, I slid from beneath the Egyptian cotton sheets. My dress lay in a crumpled heap by the door, and my underwear- who knows where? Alexander had been… thorough in his attentions.
I gathered my clothes with silent efficiency, cringing at the delicate soreness between my thighs, a physical reminder of how completely I’d abandoned my self–respect last night.
The bathroom offered minimal salvation. I scrubbed my face clean with Alexander’s ridiculously expensive facial cleanser, finger–combed my hair into something less feral, and used his toothpaste on my finger to combat whiskey breath.
The woman staring back at me looked exactly like what she was: someone doing the walk of shame.
I’d become everything I used to judge. The girl who falls for her boss. The woman who can’t separate business from pleasure. The fool who comes running back after being replaced.
Alexander shifted in the bedroom, and I froze, listening intently. His breathing remained deep and even. Thank god for small mercies.
I grabbed my clutch and tiptoed to the elevator. Each step felt like an escape from a crime scene, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. The elevator doors slid open with a soft ping that sounded like a foghorn in the quiet penthouse.
“Going somewhere?”
I jumped, nearly dropping my clutch. Alexander stood in the hallway, a towel slung low on his hips, hair mussed from sleep. How had he moved so silently from the bedroom?
“I, um—” Words failed me as my eyes betrayed me, drinking in the sight of his bare chest, the defined muscles
1/4
of his abdomen.
“Sneaking out?” His voice held amusement rather than anger.
I straightened my spine, summoning whatever dignity remained. “I need to get home. Change for work.”
Alexander moved with predatory grace, reaching the elevator before the doors could close. “At least have coffee
first.”
“I really should-”
“Madison.” Just my name, but the way he said it, firm yet somehow gentle, made my resolve weaken.
“Fine. One coffee.”
“Give me two minutes to put on some clothes. Unless you’d prefer I remain like this?”
“Clothes would be good,” I said quickly, following him back into the penthouse.
True to his word, Alexander returned in record time wearing low–slung sweatpants and a plain white t–shirt that somehow looked like designer wear on his frame.
I perched awkwardly on a barstool, smoothing down my wrinkled dress.
Alexander moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, preparing coffee in an expensive machine. The silence between us stretched uncomfortably.
He slid a steaming mug across the counter, the rich aroma momentarily distracting me from my mortification. Our fingers brushed as I accepted it, sending an unwelcome jolt through my system.
“Thank you,” I murmured, immediately bringing the mug to my lips despite the heat. The coffee scalded my tongue, but I welcomed the pain as penance.
Alexander leaned against the counter opposite me, his mug cradled in his hands. His hair was still damp from his quick shower, curling slightly at the ends. It made him look younger and more approachable. Dangerous thoughts.
‘About last night-” he began.
“Can we not?” I cut in, setting my mug down with more force than intended. Coffee sloshed over the rim, nearly scalding my fingers.
One eyebrow rose. “We need to talk about it.”
“No, we really don’t.” I dabbed at the spilled coffee with a napkin. “It was a mistake. Too much whiskey, too many emotions after the party. Classic drunk hookup scenario.”
“A mistake,” he repeated, his tone maddeningly neutral.
“Yes.” I met his gaze directly, determined to maintain some semblance of dignity. “Nothing more than that. We both know it shouldn’t have happened, Mr. Knight.”
“Back to Mr. Knight, are we?”
2/4
سکتے
“It seems appropriate.”
Alexander took a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. “Interesting how you switch to formality when you’re running away.‘
“I’m not running away.” The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.
“No? Then what would you call sneaking out before I woke up?”
“Being practical. I need to go home and change before work.”
“Work.” He nodded slowly. “Yes, I imagine you’ll be quite busy today. The project update is due, isn’t it?”
The abrupt shift to business caught me off guard. “Um, yes. I’ll have it on your desk by noon.”
“Good.” He drained his mug and set it in the sink. “I’ll expect your usual thoroughness.”
I blinked at his sudden professional demeanor. Was he really just going to let it go that easily?
“Of course,” I replied, finishing my own coffee quickly. “If that’s all, I should really get going.”
“I’ll have John bring the car around.”
“No,” I said, too quickly. “I mean, that’s not necessary. I can grab a cab.”
Alexander’s lips quirked. “It’s barely 6 AM. Cabs are scarce, and you’re wearing an evening gown.”
“I’ll manage.” I slid off the barstool, gathering my clutch. “I always do.”
“At least let me call you an Uber.”
“Mr. Knight.” I forced a professional smile. “I appreciate your concern, but I’d prefer to handle my own transportation.”
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “As you wish.”
Outside, the early morning air hit me like a slap. I walked half a block before hailing a cab, paranoid that Alexander might be watching from his penthouse windows. The cabbie gave me a knowing once–over but thankfully remained silent for the ride to my apartment.
Mom was still asleep when I slipped in, small mercies. I showered in record time, scrubbing away the scent of Alexander’s expensive soap and the memory of his hands on my skin. The hot water couldn’t wash away my
shame.
Dressed in a crisp pencil skirt and blouse, hair pulled back in a tight bun, I studied my reflection. Professional Madison. Competent Madison. Not the woman who’d begged Alexander Knight to take her on his kitchen
counter.
I arrived at Knight Industries fifteen minutes early, heading straight to my office to avoid the executive floor entirely. The familiar routine of checking emails and reviewing documents provided temporary relief from my chaotic thoughts.
The morning passed in a blur of focused work. I deliberately scheduled meetings in conference rooms far from
3/4
Alexander’s office, grabbed lunch at my desk, and communicated via email rather than facing him directly.
4/4
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
