Page 1 of Enchanted Hero (The Secret Enchanters #1)

T hey were the most powerful people on the planet, the rich elite, the men and women who ruled their domains and whose slick smiles said they knew it.

They were business owners too rich to bother with anyone under C-level, scions of family money centuries old, politicians not afraid to take a handout or two.

A few celebrities even walked the crowd, and none of that B-list riffraff.

Dripping with diamonds, sparkling in haute couture, dapper in black tie, they were a mighty bunch.

But him?

He was extraordinary .

He turned, his dark hair gleaming, deep sapphire eyes striking even from this distance.

No wonder they called him the most handsome man to grace the covers of both People and the New York Times .

His muscular frame showed he did not spend all his time behind a desk, with chiseled features that put him more in the movie star category of appearance than in the executives’ one.

Rumors alleged many business deals occurred with just a look, and some even claimed he possessed supernatural powers.

Everleigh Lacey knew better. After all, she’d spent her life building a company around the supernatural elements.

He didn’t own everyone, at least not yet. He didn’t own her.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t trying.

Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be here, deep in his magnificent South Florida estate at a party you couldn’t buy, bribe or trick your way into.

Gold-encrusted invitations had been sent to the crème de la crème, with security tighter than a Kardashian corset to keep out the rest. She’d have pretended to be a waitress, but Alexander Stone was famous for his security, with every server, janitor and housefly subject to a thorough background check.

Any scheme would’ve resulted in her immediate discovery as a fraud.

Through fate or fortune, she’d entered the old-fashioned way – she’d snuck in. She bypassed security in the normally tight estate and found an ajar window, probably opened by some clueless guest. Now she stood in the home of the man who would steal her life’s work.

The object of her attention ascended a grand stage, greeting the crowd with the confidence of a ruler. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my modest home. I’m grateful for your support of Stone Holdings and its charities.”

At the enthusiastic applause, Everleigh humphed softly.

Nothing could be deemed modest in the massive ballroom of gold and marble.

Thousands of Swarovski crystals sparkled from waterfall chandeliers, casting light on gilded mirrors and plush throne chairs.

Towering floral arrangements turned all-glass tables into seas of roses, their velvet petals scattered amidst priceless China.

The aroma of Gucci and Louis Vuitton drifted by, their hundred-dollar an ounce brews tangling with her $10 bottle blend.

Even the restrooms, including some unmentionable parts, were embellished with gold.

Nor was the man truly grateful. Most certainly it was the other way around, with every attendee elated to have received an invitation – her notwithstanding, of course. She turned back to her unwilling host and froze.

He was looking straight at her.

Perspiration beaded under the slinky black off-the-rack dress, even though he couldn’t possibly have noticed her among the thousands.

Yet the air turned warm as the desert, and for a moment, the crowd melted under its heat.

Some claimed there was nothing quite as disconcerting as Alexander Stone’s stare, but nothing could have prepared her.

It was like he could read her mind.

He turned from her. “Your donations have benefitted endeavors such as the new children’s wing at the hospital and the Special Olympics.

Hopefully, I can convince you to give a few pennies more.

” His smile elicited numerous sighs. “Enjoy the evening. I look forward to speaking with each and every one of you.”

He nodded after the brief comments, and, as if the world had permission to spin once more, people returned to their conversations. The group near Stone immediately vied for his attention.

Thunder rumbled outside the window, mirroring the turbulence within her. Everleigh edged to the corner, ignoring the sumptuous appetizers and sparkling glasses of fine wine being passed on gleaming silver platters. She would need all her faculties tonight.

Why did Alexander Stone, billionaire business mogul, commander of one of the largest companies in the world, want a small business like hers?

With his stealthy fingers in every cookie jar from the technical sector to the healthcare field to the government, he dealt with companies far vaster, endlessly richer and more influential than hers.

When Stone Holdings first showed interest in New Age Treasures, she contacted them, yet no one from the company would even talk to her.

She’d demanded to speak with the so-called sovereign himself, but she couldn’t even reach his assistant’s assistant, much less him.

So she’d come to the very top. And how high it was.

How would she get a moment alone with him, with the tight mob surrounding him? When a guest left his side, three more dashed forward to take his place. Yet if she didn’t confront him tonight, another opportunity was unlikely. It was shocking she’d gotten this far.

A boom of thunder, this one louder – and closer – reverberated through the cavernous hall.

Stone exchanged greetings with men and women, some of whom lingered a little closer than necessary.

Breaking away from the group, he strode across the room, nodding but not stopping for anyone, despite obvious attempts to gain his attention.

He reached a nondescript door and slipped through it.

This was her chance.

With only a second’s hesitation, she strode through the bright ballroom, her feet tapping on the gleaming ceramic floor.

Candlelight danced on the walls as the twenty-piece orchestra played Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.

No one noticed as she reached the door, and she was neither stopped nor questioned as she turned the golden knob and stepped through the threshold.

Stone’s usually stalwart security team was obviously having a lackluster night, as moments later, she stood alone in an empty hallway.

Silence ruled the massive corridor, flanked by dozens of doors with intricate carvings of vines and swords.

No clues betrayed their contents, and her quarry was nowhere to be seen.

Every door was closed save for one at the very end, a sliver of golden light escaping its narrow opening.

Her throat tightened, even as she forced herself forward.

For her company, for her employees, for herself , she had to do this.

Still, she couldn’t bring herself to stride, not as the five-inch heels she used to boost her naturally petite frame sunk precariously into the plush wine carpet.

When she stumbled for the third time, she removed the strappy torture devices.

She sighed as her bare feet melted into softness, padding quicker down the hallway, stopping in front of the open door just as rustling sounded from within.

She took a breath, swung open the door and entered…

A vacant room.

She spun, but the enormous room remained empty and silent.

Even as her heart galloped, the magnificence of the chamber stunned.

The ceiling was double height, the walls curved and covered with masterful paintings by famous artists.

Intricate carvings were etched in the oversized mahogany furnishings, lit by the flames of a crackling fireplace.

A massive four poster bed stood against a wall, its headboard emblazed with indecipherable writings.

That was the moment she realized where she was.

Alexander Stone’s bedroom.

Oh. My. Goodness.

She retreated in slow, stealthy steps, to avoid the clatter that would bring a dozen guards.

She’d planned to confront him in private, but not this private.

She took another step, and then another, forward-facing and ready to face any threat.

She exhaled relief as she reached the doorway – one more step and she’d be back in the relative safety of the hallway.

She never made it.

She cried out as a muscular form appeared behind her, as pure power captured her without a touch. The scent of oak and brandy swirled, heat igniting every sense. She stumbled forward, nearly falling against a chair, before pivoting.

Breathtaking. Stunning. Magnificent.

So many words, and yet none fully adequate.

Handsome was insufficient, powerful an underestimation, as Alexander Stone stood more than a foot above her, gigantic next to her petite frame.

Midnight black hair and chiseled features drew an avenging warrior from a fantasy novel, while fierce intelligence lit gleaming eyes, fitting for a man with a reputed one hundred eighty I.Q.

Now he studied her as if he could read every secret she hid.

“What have we here?” a voice, deep and strong, rumbled. “An intruder?”

The prey had become the predator, the predator the prey. It took all her strength to remember who she was, who he was. What he was trying to seize. “I’m not an intruder. I’m an invited guest.”

“Are you, Miss Lacey?”

She froze. “You know who I am?”

“I know all about you.” His deep baritone traced her spine, like a fingernail scraping the nape of her neck. “I conduct a thorough investigation on all businessmen – and women – with whom I have personal dealings. You don’t think you infiltrated my home by accident, do you?”

Beliefs shattered and assumptions vanished, as a night of triumph turned into something far more dangerous. “You allowed me to enter?”

“Of course.” His voice deepened as he stepped forward. “Nothing happens without my knowledge. Do you think I accidently left a window open?”