Chapter 2 The Escape

Stellan POV

I didn't usually bring women back to my hotel.

In my world, privacy was the most expensive commodity I owned. As a driver for Mercer Racing, there was always a camera, a reporter, or a fan waiting to catch me slipping up. That was exactly why I was hiding out in this city during the off-season, wearing a dark cap and keeping my head down. I just wanted a few

weeks of silence away from the track, the press, and my father.

But the girl in the emerald dress was an exception I didn't see coming.

The elevator ride up to my penthouse suite was dead silent. I stood leaning against the mirrored wall, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She was staring straight ahead at the floor numbers ticking upward. Her arms were

crossed over her chest, and she was chewing nervously on her bottom lip.

She was beautiful, but it wasn't just that. It was the raw, unfiltered anger radiating off her. Whoever the idiot was that left her sitting alone in that club, he needed his head examined.

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open to the top floor.

I swiped my keycard and pushed the door open, stepping aside to let her in. As per my request and standard, the suite was massive lit only by the glow of the city skyline pouring through the windows.

She walked in slowly, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She stopped in the middle of the living room, looking out at the lights.

"Drink?" I asked, tossing my room key onto the kitchen counter.

"Water is fine," she said quietly. The reckless fire she had at the bar was starting to dwindle, replaced by a sudden, heavy nervousness.

I poured a glass of ice water and walked over to her. When I handed it to her, our fingers brushed. She inhaled sharply, her eyes darting up to mine.

I finally reached up and pulled the baseball cap off, tossing it onto a nearby chair. I ran a hand through my hair, waiting for the inevitable flash of recognition. I waited for her eyes to widen, for her to realize she was standing in a hotel room with Stellan Mercer.

She just looked at me. Her gaze traced my jaw, the slight scar above my eyebrow, and settled on my eyes. There was no gasp. No sudden change in her voice.

She had absolutely no idea who I was.

A strange, sharp thrill hit my chest. For the first time in years, a woman was looking at me just as a man, not as a trophy or a headline.

"You're having second thoughts," I said, my voice low in the quiet room.

She gripped the water glass tightly. "I don't do things like this. Ever. I'm usually the girl who goes home early, makes a to-do list for the next day, and goes to sleep."

"Sounds exhausting."

"It is." She let out a shaky breath and set the glass down on a side table. She turned to face me fully. "I just... I wanted to feel something else tonight. Something that wasn't waiting around for a guy who doesn't care."

I closed the distance between us. I didn't rush. I took slow, deliberate steps until I was standing right in front of her. She had to tilt her head up to look at me.

"He's blind," I murmured, lifting my hand. I brushed my knuckles down the soft skin of her cheek. She shivered, her breath catching in her throat. "If you were mine, I wouldn't leave you sitting alone in a room. Not for a second."

Her eyes darkened. The tension between us was suddenly so thick it was hard to breathe. I could smell her perfume–something warm, like vanilla and amber. It was driving me crazy.

"I don't even know your name," she whispered, her gaze dropping to my mouth.

"You don't need to," I replied.

I slid my hand to the back of her neck, my fingers tangling in her hair. I didn't push her. I waited, giving her one last second to back away. Instead, she closed the gap, her hands gripping the front of my jacket, pulling me down to her.

When my lips met hers, the last bit of my control snapped. The kiss wasn't gentle. It was desperate, hot, and completely consuming. She tasted like tequila and my imminent ruin. I backed her up against the glass window, my hands gripping her waist, pulling her against me. She let out a soft gasp into my mouth, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

I knew right then that one night wasn't going to be enough.

The harsh glare of the morning sun hitting my face woke me up.

I groaned, throwing an arm over my eyes. The bed was incredibly soft, but the space next to me was cold.

I shifted, reaching out blindly. "Hey," I muttered, my voice rough with sleep.

Nothing.

I opened my eyes and sat up. The suite was completely empty. The emerald dress that had been thrown onto the floor last night was gone. The glass of water was still sitting on the side table.

I stared at the empty space, a heavy knot of annoyance forming in my chest. Women didn't sneak out on me. It was usually the other way around. I ran a hand over my face, catching the faint, lingering scent of vanilla on my skin.

I didn't know her name. I didn't have her number. But the sudden, intense need to find her was making my blood run hot. I was going to track her down. I had the money and the resources to find anyone in this city.

Before I could think about it any further, my phone started buzzing aggressively on the nightstand.

I grabbed it, glaring at the caller ID. Conrad.

I hit accept and put it on speaker. "What."

"Good morning to you too, Stellan," my father’s cold, sharp voice filled the room. "I assume you're still in the city."

"I'm resting. Like the team doctors told me to."

"You can rest after tomorrow night," Conrad snapped. "I'm hosting a family dinner at the estate. You will be there. Your brother is coming, and I expect you both to behave like adults for two hours. The sponsors are asking questions about family unity."

I clenched my jaw. The last thing I wanted to do was sit across a table from Hayes and pretend we didn't hate each other.

"Fine," I muttered, already planning my escape route from the dinner. "I'll be there."

I hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed. I didn't care about the dinner. Or about Hayes.

All I cared about was finding the girl in the green dress.