Chapter One

Ethan

Ho

Ho

Holy fuck it's already this time of the year?

I scrunch my nose as I enter the ballroom of my mansion for the charity event my PR team is forcing me to put on. It strikes me as ironic that the space is decorated so lavishly – evergreen trees with baubles and tinsel, red and gold, adorning the walls – when this is an event that’s supposed to benefit the homeless. Not that I care. In fact, if this place was anything but lavish, I would have refused to come. My team knows that.

They’ve been pushy lately. This little charity event isn’t the only thing they’ve been on my ass about. The idea of this gala came about as a way for me to meet bachelorettes. Apparently, having a spouse will soften my image.

In truth, I don’t see the point in it. I don’t have time for trivial matters like dating or marriage. Most of my time is eaten up by my tech company. We’re the leaders in innovation, and if I’d like to uphold that reputation, that means I have to ensure work is my main focus.

Yet, they won’t let the issue go, especially so close to Christmas. And, when they sat me down and explained how softening my image might help me appeal to a wider audience, I couldn’t just write them off. Still, I’m not happy about hosting all of these people in my home. In my opinion, we could have found a suitable venue, but my team said doing this would make me seem more approachable, more human.

As if that’s how I want to appear to anyone.

“Boss,” my assistant says, appearing at my elbow. She’s tapping away on her iPad, her eyes occasionally scanning the room.

“What is it, Erin?” I ask, not bothering to look at her.

“See anyone you’re interested in?” she asks, sounding bored.

I find a little bit of solace in the fact that she seems to think this is as stupid as I do. All of the people that work with me on the ground are of the opinion that a wife would just slow me down. Unfortunately, we’re all tired of the PR team nagging us about this and decided it would be easier to just give in. Put on a show for them.

“Not really,” I admit, barely covering a grimace when a woman drags her eyes over my body. She’s decidedly not my type.

“We have to find you someone,” she sighs. “Otherwise, you’ll have wasted all of this money throwing this ball.”

She knows exactly how to get me. I hired her because of her efficiency in matters like this. I hate spending money unnecessarily. I know that I have more than I know what to do with, which is pretty standard for most billionaires. But, I didn’t get like this by throwing my money around, though. It was through hard work and sometimes miserly budgeting. Events like this that exist solely for the benefit of others have never been a part of my plan.

“That’s my cue to mingle, isn’t it?” I say humorlessly, stepping away from her and weaving through the crowd. I don’t give her a chance to answer because she doesn’t need to. This isn’t a relaxing event for me. It’s a job.

A waiter offers me a glass of champagne, but I wave him off. I don’t care that having a drink in my hand makes me more approachable. Perhaps I’ll get lucky and run into a woman who’s just as business-minded as I am. Though, I doubt that’s going to happen tonight.

The chatter of my guests is loud and grating. Deafening laughter rings through the hall, and I can’t imagine what could be so funny that prompts a reaction like that. Someone must be trying to schmooze. I’m sure that tactic works on some people, but it certainly doesn’t work on me.

I turn away from the noise, looking for a more reserved group of people to speak with. I’m on my way across the room when I see her. Time seems to stop, and my heart thumps in my chest in a way that I haven’t felt since I was a teenager with my first crush.

The woman I’m looking at is young, she can’t be more than eighteen. And she’s drop dead gorgeous. Sure, her clothes are a little frumpy and she looks like she’s out of her element here, but her icy blonde hair is pulled into an elegant updo, and her heart-shaped face sports a blush riding high on her cheeks.

I have to have her.

Without a second thought, I change course. The only thought that’s in my head is getting closer to this girl. That’s my future wife. I’m so focused on her that I don’t realize I’m being pulled into a conversation before it’s too late.

I do my best to be cordial, remembering what my PR team told me about making sure I’m kind. This entire thing is all about improving my public image. So, when my guests want to talk about how great this gala is and what a nice person I am for caring about the homeless population so close to the holidays, I accept the compliments with as much grace as a man like me can muster.

My eyes keep drifting back to the woman on the other side of the room. Every second that I’m not in her presence makes me feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin. There are so many other people here, so many others that could be looking at my girl, wanting to make her theirs. I need to stake my claim on her as soon as possible.

I can’t take this mindless conversation anymore. It’s obvious that these people are just trying to suck up to me. I have nothing to give them, no money to throw at whatever it is they’re going to request. Isn’t this stupid charity event enough?

“Sorry,” I say, using my most charming voice, the one that got me meetings with CEOs before I was one myself. “There’s something over there that needs my attention. Let’s put a pin in this conversation, okay?”

I don’t wait for their response, already walking away from them to get to the girl. I’ve lost sight of her, though. She isn’t where I saw her last, and I curse myself for taking my eyes off of her for a single second. I’ll find her, though. This is my gala. If I have to, I’ll get my team to look for her.

As I’m on my way to the last place I saw her, I hear commotion coming from the front doors. I turn, cursing under my breath because the last thing I want to do is deal with a party-crasher or a guest that’s already too drunk. What I see makes my blood run cold.

The girl that I’ve been eying is being led out of my mansion. She isn’t fighting against the two men that are carrying her out. In fact, she seems almost defeated. It makes something in my chest twinge painfully.

The feeling catches me off guard, and my feet pause for a moment. Whatever I’m feeling for this girl is real, not just a passing thought. Then, I’m running toward her, intent on stopping them from throwing her out.

I’m too late. She’s out the door before I get there, and the members of security seem to be congratulating themselves for a job well done. It makes me angrier than it should, and I can’t control my tone when I speak to them.

“What the hell were you thinking?” I snarl, breaking them out of their conversation. The way their faces fall when they see me gives me a sick sense of satisfaction.

“Mr. Frost,” one of the men says, straightening out and pulling his shoulders back. “We were just escorting a thief out. Don’t worry, everything’s taken care of.”

“A thief?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow in disbelief.

“She was taking money from patrons,” the other guard says. “We got all of that back, but she refused to let us search her. She could have stolen something else.”

I grunt, not wanting to believe what they’re telling me. After a beat, I push them to the side so I can get to the door. I wrench it open and the cold winter wind bites into my face. Then, I look around, needing to find this woman before she leaves and I lose the girl of my dreams before I can even say a word to her.