Holly Sinclair gritted her teeth.
She was consumed by hatred.
She hated herself for her stupidity.
Hated herself for being a love-struck, irrational fool.
On that night two years ago, shortly after she'd toasted him, she saw him stumble out of the banquet hall.
Because she was secretly in love with him, she worried he was drunk. Fearing something might happen, she followed him out.
Seeing him swaying unsteadily, she hurried forward to help, but he took the opportunity to drag her into the elevator.
Before she could react, his scorching kiss landed on her lips.
It was her first kiss.
In that instant, her mind went blank. All she could do was stare at him with wide, dumbfounded eyes, unable to process anything else.
She didn't know how he got her to the hotel room.
She only knew that she, as pure and innocent as a blank slate, quickly fell to his fierce advances.
Because she loved him, she became his antidote without hesitation.
