The Night I Wasn't Meant For You

Ariana Cole POV

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. The stranger's question hung in the air between us.

Who are you, and why are you sleeping in my bed?

My mouth opened. Then closed. Then it opened again. Nothing came out. Brilliant, Ariana. Absolutely brilliant. Survive a near plane crash only to die of embarrassment in a stranger's bedroom.

"I..." I swallowed hard. "This isn't my room?"

The man's dark eyebrow lifted. "No."

The single word carried enough disbelief to make my face burn. I sat upright so quickly that the blanket tangled around my legs.

"Oh my God." The realization hit me all at once. The oversized suite. The private hallway. The grand piano. This wasn't a hotel room. This was somebody's home. And not just anybody's home. A very rich somebody. My stomach dropped.

"I'm so sorry." The words rushed out of me. "I swear I didn't break in. The hotel staff brought me here. I thought this was my room."

For a second, he simply stared at me.

Then something unexpected happened.

The corner of his mouth twitched. Was he... Amused? "You're laughing?" I couldn't believe it.

"If I accidentally walked into a stranger's house and found them sleeping in my bed, I wouldn't be laughing."

His gaze moved over my face. Slowly. Carefully. The intensity of it made my pulse stumble.

"I didn't say it was funny."

"You look like you think it's funny."

A faint smile appeared. And suddenly the room felt several degrees warmer.

"I've had a difficult day." His voice was calm. Controlled. "But finding a stranger asleep in my bed wasn't on tonight's schedule."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Fantastic. I had become the punchline of a billionaire's evening. I threw the blanket aside and stood. Or at least I tried to.

The moment my feet touched the floor, dizziness slammed into me. The room tilted. My knees buckled. A strong hand wrapped around my arm before I hit the ground. The contact sent an unexpected jolt through me. His grip was firm. Warm. Steady.

"Easy."

The deep rumble of his voice seemed unfairly attractive.

"I'm fine."

"You almost fell."

"I said I'm fine."

"You look like you're about to pass out."

I hated that he was right. The flight. The stress. The lack of sleep. Everything was catching up with me. His eyes narrowed slightly.

"When was the last time you ate?"

I frowned. What kind of question was that? "I don't know."

His expression immediately changed. Not softer exactly. But concerned. Which made even less sense. This man didn't know me. He should have been calling security.

Instead, he was looking at me as though he was trying to figure out whether I would collapse.

Without another word, he released my arm and walked out of the bedroom. I blinked.

Had he just left?

A few moments later, he returned carrying a steaming mug. Coffee. The rich aroma filled the room instantly. I stared. Then stared some more. The stranger held the cup out to me.

"Drink."

My brain struggled to keep up.

"You made me coffee?"

"You sound surprised."

"I am surprised."

Most men would have called security. This one was serving refreshments. His mouth curved slightly.

"Trust me. I'm surprised too."

Against my better judgment, I accepted the mug. Our fingers brushed. The contact lasted less than a second. Yet somehow it felt much longer. I took a careful sip.

The warmth spread through me immediately. For the first time all day, I felt human again. The stranger watched me quietly.

"Better?"

A little. Dangerously so. Because now that I wasn't panicking, I could properly look at him. And that was a mistake. A very big mistake. He was even more handsome up close. Strong jaw. Dark hair.

Eyes that seemed capable of seeing far more than they should. The kind of man women probably wrote novels about. The kind of man sensible women avoided. Unfortunately, I wasn't feeling particularly sensible.

Finally, I cleared my throat. "Since you've caught me trespassing, I suppose I should know your name."

Something unreadable flashed through his eyes. Then he said: "Damian." The name sounded familiar.

Before I could place it, a phone on the bedside table suddenly lit up. A photograph appeared on the screen. A smiling woman wrapped her arms around Damian's neck.

My gaze lingered on the image. And my heart nearly stopped. Because I knew her.

Very well.

The woman smiling beside him was Chloe.

My best friend.