Seducing my Ex-husband back (Claire) novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

THE FIRST CRACK

-CLAIRE’S POV-

The red satin dress feels like liquid fire against my skin as I move through the Hampton’s charity gala.

The wrap neck design accentuates my collarbones, while the short hem shows off my legs. Each step I take, my

Louboutin heels click against the marble floor.

I straightened my hair today, letting it fall in a sleek curtain just past my shoulders. Simple. Elegant.

Devastating.

The whispers follow me like shadows:

“Is that Claire Blackwood?”

“Claire Winfred now, actually. She’s with Alexander Hayes.”

“Lucky girl. He rescued her from that whole scandal.”

“I heard she was completely broken when Richard left her…”

“Well, she certainly landed on her feet.”

The words sting, but I keep my chin high. These people think Alexander saved me from disgrace. That I’m some

charity case he picked up and polished until I was presentable again.

If only they knew the truth.

I catch several men watching me as I glide past their conversation circles. Their wives notice too, shooting me

pointed looks that could kill.

Good. Let them stare. Let them wonder how a “disgraced” ex–wife managed to capture Manhattan’s most eligible bachelor.

Alexander appears at my side with two champagne flutes, looking devastatingly handsome in his black tuxedo.

His green eyes sweep over me appreciatively.

“You’re causing quite a stir,” he murmurs, pressing a glass into my hand.

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Chapter 22

“Am I?” I take a sip, letting the bubbles dance on my tongue. “I hadn’t noticed.”

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“Liar.” His smile is warm, but there’s something calculating beneath it. “You know exactly what you’re doing to every man in this room.”

Before I can respond, Mrs. Pemberton approaches us with her signature fake smile. She’s dripping in diamonds and desperation to stay relevant in Manhattan society.

“Claire, darling!” she gushes. “You look absolutely radiant. Alexander has been so good for you.”

The patronizing tone makes my jaw clench. “Has he?”

“Oh yes. We all remember how… difficult… things were after your divorce. But look at you now! Like a phoenix rising from the ashes.”

Alexander’s hand finds the small of my back, a possessive movement that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Claire was never broken,” he says smoothly. “She was simply waiting for someone worthy of her strength.”

Mrs. Pemberton titters nervously. “Of course, of course. Well, you make such a lovely couple. The wedding will be the event of the season, I’m sure.”

She flutters away, leaving me simmering with controlled rage.

“Do they all think I’m your rehabilitation project?” I ask Alexander once we’re alone.

His jaw tightens. “Does it matter what they think?”

T

“It matters that you let them think it.” I turn to face him fully. “You enjoy playing the hero, don’t you? The billionaire who swooped in to save the poor, broken divorcée.”

“Claire……‘

“Is that what I am to you? Some wounded bird you nursed back to health so you could feel good about yourself?”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” My voice rises slightly, and I notice several heads turning our way. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve built your entire persona around being my savior.”

Alexander’s eyes flash with something dangerous. Without warning, he sets down his champagne glass and cups my face in his hands.

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Chapter 22

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“Let me make something very clear,” he says, his voice low but carrying enough force that nearby conversations pause. “You were never broken. You were never weak. And you sure as hell were never a project.”

Then his mouth is on mine.

The kiss is fierce, claiming, meant to prove a point to everyone watching. His lips move against mine with talented skill, his hands sliding into my hair. I can hear the soft gasps from the crowd, feel their eyes burning

into us.

When he pulls back, my lips are swollen and my breathing is unsteady. The ballroom has gone quiet, all attention focused on us.

“Any questions about how I see you?” Alexander asks, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent space.

The crowd slowly returns to their conversations, but the energy has shifted. No more pitying looks. Now they’re

watching me with something closer to envy.

Alexander takes my hand, leading me away from the crowd. “We need to talk. Privately.”

We slip down a side corridor, past velvet curtains, into a small salon lit only by a crystal chandelier and

moonlight streaming through tall windows. The door clicks shut behind us, sealing us in intimate darkness.

“Alexander….”

He doesn’t let me finish. His hands find my waist, pulling me against him. I can feel the heat of his body

through the thin fabric of my dress, the solid muscle of his chest pressed against mine.

“You want to know how I see you?” His voice is rough with want. “I see a woman who’s stronger than she

knows. Braver than she believes. More beautiful than she realizes.”

His mouth finds my throat, pressing hot kisses along the column of my neck. My head falls back automatically,

granting him better access.

“I see someone who survived betrayal and came out fiercer,” he continues against my skin. “Someone who

rebuilt herself from the ground up and emerged more powerful than before.”

His hands slide up my sides, fingers tracing the curves of my body through the silk. My breath hitches as he finds the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

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