Alexander Marcellus was a man who had never been denied anything—not women, not money, not opportunity, not pleasure. He lived in a city of steel and shimmering glass, where nights were long and hearts were disposable. His name was often whispered at cocktail parties, followed by smirks and raised brows. Women adored him. Men envied him.
And Alexander, charming, wealthy, and untouchable, never stayed long enough for anyone to expect more.
Commitment was a foreign language.
But a business opportunity—an exquisite wine farm tucked between rolling emerald hills—brought him into a world he had never imagined stepping into. A world that smelled of earth, sun-ripened grapes, open fields, and freedom he never knew he craved.
He arrived with a suitcase filled with tailored suits and polished leather shoes—utterly useless against the dusty roads and rustic charm of Willow Creek Estate.
He stepped out of the black SUV and scanned the barn, the vineyard stretching beyond it, and the old farmhouse wrapped in ivy and warm afternoon light.
And then he saw her.
Elena Hartley.
A country girl whose beauty wasn't crafted or sculpted—it just was. Golden-brown hair pulled into a loose braid. Soft cotton shirt tied at the waist. Worn jeans hugging her curves like they were made only for her. Sun-kissed skin. And eyes the color of warm honey after rain.
She wiped her hands on her jeans and approached him with a smile that struck him hard enough to destabilize the careful balance of his world.
"You must be Alexander," she said. "Welcome to Willow Creek."
Her voice was warm—steady—but her gaze was direct, seeing him more deeply in five seconds than most people had in five years.
And for the first time in his life, Alexander Marcellus felt something he never expected.
Nervous.