CHAPTER 3

Mikayla angled her body, trying her best to pass through the crowd without brushing against anyone. She needed to get out immediately. It was irrational, it was probably unnecessary, but all she knew was that she had to get away.

She'd never felt anything quite like that before. It felt like a thousand ants underneath her skin where his eyes touched her. She needed to get out and catch her breath. She risked a look in his direction to see if he was still looking.

Oh no, he wasn't just looking at her now. He was actually following her, barraging through the crowd at an angle that ensured that he would reach her before she reached the door. No! No! No! She increased her pace, and from the corner of her eyes, she saw him do the same.

Who was this man anyway? Why was he following her? She couldn't risk another look at him. It would slow her down. She shouldn't have come. She silently cursed Anna's persistence. Now she was being chased around by a staring psycho.

She briefly considered breaking into a run but tossed it aside. She couldn't run here. The poor Rich folk would be scandalized. Already, she was getting odd looks at the speed at which she was moving.

Almost there now. Ten more steps and she'd be at the door and she could disappear into the ladies' room. She would bide her time in there and then leave. She wouldn't call Anna until she was safely on her way home because she knew the girl would try to stop her.

Mikayla why she was reacting this strongly to such a random occurrence. Why? Was it her subconscious throwing off warning bells to save her from some sort of psychopath? Rich people were some of the weirdest people you could ever meet.

Most of these people have skeletons in their closets that would leave you aghast. Some of them were now patients at her Hospital and so she knew a little of the dark secrets they kept hidden. She would be shocked to learn he was a psychopath.

How had she caught the attention of such a man? She looked down at herself. She was dressed very plainly compared to the other girls in here. Her back dress got to her knees and had long sleeves that covered her wrists.

The only hint of skin was her back where there was a cut out. Nothing about her screamed, "Look at me!" She'd even tied her hair up in a ponytail and she was hardly wearing any makeup. So what did he want with her? Well, she wasn't sticking around to find out. Almost there, she thought with relief.

"Dr. Wall," a familiar voice called right beside her and a hand snaked out to grab her arm. Mikayla stopped abruptly and valuted away, breaking the hold on her arm. She turned to the source of the voice.

"Oh, Mr Antoine!" She breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar face.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," he asked, looking concerned at her flushed face and the wild look in her eyes.

Mikayla laughed. "Of course not. No such thing as a ghost." She was rambling. She peeked in the direction the man was in to see if he was still coming to her, but he'd stopped now. He was still looking at her, this time with a frown on his lips but he wasn't coming towards her. Good!

"Don't tell me you were already leaving," Antoine said. "I only just arrived."

Mikayla laughed. "I was actually."

"No way. You can't leave now. You owe me at least a dance before you leave."

Mikayla smiled. "Mr Antoine, we've been over this. I told you I don't date my patients." Antoine was one of the Hospital's wealthier clients. He'd always had a thing for her, she knew it and everyone at the Hospital knew it too at this point.

But Mikayla always turned him down; every time. Still, he never gave up. Antoine was a handsome man, tall and sculptured. English rolled off his tongue with a soft touch of a French accent. Any woman would fall to her knees before him just to have his attention on her.

It wasn't that Mikayla was immune to his good looks or sexy accent herself, but she would never go against her own principles. And those principles dictated that she stay away from men like him.

"I don't remember asking you on a date. I merely asked you to dance. And I don't think any rules say you can't dance with a patient, mon Cherie." He held out his hand.

Mikayla shook her head and placed her hands in his, giving up. At least, he would keep that man away from her. She guessed that Antoine talking to her was the reason why he stopped following her. Hopefully, that will continue to work.

Antoine led Mikayla to the centre of the room and gently turned her so she was facing him. He put his hand around her waist and started swaying from side to side. "You know, your arm is supposed to go around here." He took her hand and placed it around his neck himself.

"I know," Mikayla said with a small laugh.

He smiled. "So tell me, how is the Hospital doing?"

"Good as ever. It'll be better if you decide to invest in us," she said teasingly.

He leaned his head down close to her ear and murmured against it. "I told you, mon Cherie, I don't mix business with pleasure."

"Pleasure here being me, right?"

"Yes, you," he said confidently.

"I have told you--"

"Shush." He placed a warm finger against her lips. "I know what you've told me but I am not one to give up on what I want." His eyes went down and lingered on the finger against her lips. His eyes darkened.

Mikayla knew exactly what he was thinking about; what he was thinking of doing. Her breath hitched in her throat. Thankfully, the music stopped just then and a voice came on over the microphone.

Everyone stopped dancing and turned to face the podium. Mikayla jerked herself out of Antoine's arms and turned to the podium with gratitude. "Saved by the bell," she thought.

"Welcome to the Autumn-World Cancer Fundraising Event!" The shiny man in the shimmering suit said in a booming voice. The audience applauded. Mikayla did too. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Antoine give her an impatient look before turning to the platform too.

The shiny man was still speaking. "Let us welcome to the stage, our host for today, Armani Granger!" Another round of applause. Mikayla smiled. Armani was one of the Hospital's first investors.

She was someone who Mikayla actually liked. Nice and soft-spoken, she was nothing like the other spoiled brats spawned in wealth. Armani made her way to the platform, her hands warmly held by a man.

Who was that? It couldn't be her father. This man looked young and strong, and strangely familiar. Mikayla shifted her head to catch a glimpse of him. The shift put her in a position where she was starting directly in his face. She gasped. It was the strange man that had been looking at her.

Why was he with Armani? Was he her boyfriend? Why was he staring at her like that at his girlfriend's party? She scoffed. Men! Wait, why was she pissed that Armani could be his girlfriend. It's not like one word of communication had even passed through them.

Hell, she didn't even know his name. Get yourself together, girl! It was none of her business. As long as she stayed away from him.

Antoine turned to her abruptly. "I'm going to get a drink. Will you like anything?" He asked.

"Hum... A glass of whatever you're having is fine," Mikayla answered. He nodded, turned and walked away. She frowned. What had caused the shift in his mood? Certainly, it wasn't her turning him down. He'd look slightly irritated at it but otherwise unbothered. Plus, her turning him down was nothing new.

So it was something else. But what? She looked around the room but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Well, it wasn't her problem. She shrugged and turned her attention back to the stage which Armani had now mounted.

"Before I begin," she was saying, "Please give a round of applause for my dear friend, Cael Lautner who graciously accepted to be my chaperone tonight in my father's absence." The crowd applauded.

Cael, Mikayla tested his name out on her lips. So that was his name. Now that he was upfront, standing by the stage, Mikayla could appraise him.

He was tall, very tall; and lean but not in a skinny way. He was lean in a way that said that he took special care of his body. She could also see the outline of muscles under his shirt.

He had a proud, regal face, but beyond that, it was his eyes that called to Mikayla...those eyes that had been on her. His eyes were dark. It was hard to tell from this distance but she was almost certain it was a very dark brown, almost black.

His eyes were fierce like the eyes of a warrior and even now as he looked over the people applauding him, it felt like he was piercing directly into their souls. It had a chilling effect on Mikayla. She wondered if anyone else felt the same.

She looked around and spotted a harem of girls not too far away from her who were whispering excitedly among each other. Their words filtered out to her.

"I have to have him tonight," one of them, a blonde, was saying.

"You'll have to beat me to him," another one, who was also blonde, retorted.

"I don't know why you're both bothering yourselves. He was looking at me earlier. You all saw it," a brunette countered.

"I saw no such thing!" The first blonde whispered sharply.

Mikayla shook her head. He was the kind of man who had women throwing themselves at him at every turn. She briefly wondered how many of those advances he accepted. Seeing as he was a man, probably a lot.

Mikayla shook her head. It wasn't her business and she should really start going. If she saw Antoine on the way out, she would bid him goodbye.

If not, she'd have to apologise to him later. But she couldn't help it, she sent one final look in the direction Cael was standing in but it was now empty.

Her eyes widened and flew across the room. Where did he disappear to? He'd been standing right there. She'd only looked away for one minute and he was suddenly gone.

"Looking for me?" A deep, low voice asked from right behind her.