My Fiancé Never Looked at Me Like That

Maria People always say a woman knows when she’s about to marry the love of her life. If that’s true… Why did I feel so lonely? “Ms. Bellington?” I turned from the ballroom just as one of the hotel coordinators hurried toward me, his expression apologetic. “The owner has arrived.” I glanced at my watch. Seven minutes early. Interesting. Owners usually preferred grand entrances. They certainly didn’t ask to meet the event planner before their own launch. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He nodded and disappeared into the crowd. The Crystal Ballroom buzzed with London’s elite. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, champagne flowed freely, and a string quartet played softly beneath the hum of conversation. Months of planning had led to this night, and for the first time all evening, everything was exactly where it should be. Everything… Except Daniel. My phone vibrated. His name flashed across the screen. I answered before the first ring ended. “Tell me you’re downstairs.” Silence. Then a sigh. “I’m sorry, Mari.” My heart dropped. “The meeting?” “It ran over.” “It always does.” “I know.” I closed my eyes. Tonight wasn’t just another work event. It was the biggest project of my career. He knew that. “I really wanted to be there.” “But you aren’t.” Another pause. “I’ll make it up to you.” A small laugh escaped me. “You’ve been making it up to me for three cancelled wedding dates.” His silence said everything. “I’m sorry.” “So am I.” The line went quiet. “I love you.” “I know.” I ended the call before I could hear the disappointment in my own voice. “You okay?” Sophie appeared beside me, studying my face. “He cancelled.” She didn’t look surprised. “Again?” I nodded. Before she could say anything else, the hotel coordinator returned. “Ms. Bellington?” “Yes?” “Mr. Lopez is waiting.” I forced a smile. “Duty calls.” The Presidential Lounge sat above the ballroom, its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Hyde Park. The hotel manager stopped outside the doors. “Mr. Lopez specifically requested to thank you.” “Me?” “He was quite insistent.” Curious. He knocked once. “Sir?” “Come in.” The door opened. I stepped inside… …and immediately understood why every business magazine seemed obsessed with Alejandro Lopez. He wasn’t merely handsome. He was the kind of man who made a room feel quieter simply by standing in it. Tall. Broad shoulders beneath a charcoal suit. Dark hair. Olive skin. A day’s worth of stubble that somehow made him look even more polished. But it wasn’t any of that that caught me. It was his eyes. Warm. Steady. Completely fixed on mine. For one impossible second, it felt as though I were the only person in London. He smiled. Not the rehearsed smile of a businessman. A genuine one. “Miss Bellington.” His Spanish accent wrapped around my name like velvet. “Thank you for seeing me.” I crossed the room and shook his hand. His grip was warm. Confident. “Congratulations on your hotel.” He tilted his head slightly. “You say that as though you weren’t responsible for making it look extraordinary.” A surprised laugh escaped me. “I only helped.” “I’ve spent the last twenty minutes watching guests admire every detail.” His gaze never left mine. “They’re admiring your work.” No client had ever said that to me. They usually congratulated the agency. Or my boss. Rarely me. “Thank you.” “It seems inadequate.” “What does?” “Two words.” I blinked. “If I could hire you away from your agency today…” His smile widened. “…I would.” Heat climbed into my cheeks before I could stop it. “That’s quite a compliment.” “I don’t give compliments I don’t mean.” A knock interrupted us. “Sir, the speeches are about to begin.” Alejandro nodded without looking away from me. “We’re coming.” He stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. “Shall we?” I nodded. As we walked toward the ballroom, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was strangely… comfortable. Just before we reached the staircase, he looked at me. “I hope this won’t be the last time we meet, Maria.” I smiled politely. “I imagine our companies will cross paths again.” His eyes held mine for just a second longer. “I wasn’t talking about business.” I forgot how to breathe. “Mr. Lopez—” “Alejandro.” “…Alejandro.” His smile deepened. “Buenas noches, María.” Good night, Maria. He disappeared down the staircase before I could reply. For the rest of the evening… I couldn’t stop hearing the way he’d said my name.