Jamie
"It meant nothing," I whispered to my reflection in the bathroom mirror, running cold water over my wrists. "He was acting. It was just good PR."
I turned off the tap and leaned over the sink. I had spent the entire morning running the interview through my head—the way Alexander’s hand had cupped the back of my neck, the deep, resonant tone of his voice when he talked about my heart, and that kiss. That long, breathtaking, agonizingly sweet kiss in the lobby.
I forced myself to stand up straight. Alexander had always been fiercely protective of me. He had always taken physical charge when we were in public—putting an arm around my shoulder, guiding me through crowds, holding my hand for the cameras. It was just who he was. He was an intense, controlling billionaire who didn't do a
