She walked back into the gala ballroom the other night with her head held high. I’m sure she heard the whispers, saw the curious eyes following her through the rest of the evening, but she never once buckled under the weight. She smiled, she made conversation, she dazzled the room despite the scrutiny she was under.
She may not have been born to this world—but there’s a chance she’s made for it.
Despite that, there’s nothing superficial about her. Her charm ripples with sincerity, which is exactly what makes her so irresistible. Not that any man dared look her way after she returned to the ballroom. I’d gotten my message through loud and clear. Hell, I may as well have tattooed Ruslan Oryolov right on her skin. Come to think of it, the caveman in me likes that idea.
Just not as much as
