I wasn't supposed to be intrigued.

Men had admired me before—too many to count. Some did it with subtlety, others with desperation. I had mastered the art of ignoring them. But this… this was different.

His gaze didn't just touch me; it held me. It didn't flicker or falter. It was unwavering, as if he had already decided that looking away wasn't an option.

I took a slow sip of my champagne, pretending not to care, but my body betrayed me. My fingers tightened around the delicate stem of the glass. My heart gave the slightest tremor, barely noticeable, but enough for me to realize that something about this man unsettled me.

He still hadn't looked away.

A challenge.

The corner of my lips curved—not a full smile, just a whisper of amusement. If this was a game, I was well-versed in playing it.

I shifted my weight, allowing the slit of my dress to part just enough to reveal the smooth length of my leg. A calculated move, subtle but effective. The kind that sent men scrambling for words, made them stumble over themselves in an attempt to impress me.

But not him.

His expression remained unreadable, his stance relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world to simply watch me.

Annoyance flickered through me, but so did something far more dangerous—curiosity.

I turned away, deliberately, breaking the connection. I had no time for distractions. My father had sent me here to represent the Sterling name, not to entertain silent conversations with mysterious men who didn't know their place.

And yet…

As I walked through the ballroom, accepting greetings and making polite conversation, I still felt him.

Not hovering. Not chasing.

Just there.

Unshaken. Unbothered. Waiting.

As if he already knew this wasn't over.