"Yes."

Suddenly, someone bumped into her, which sent her off balance, crashing into his chest.

Tyrone was quick to secure his arms around her waist. “Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine."

"Apologies, miss." The man who had bumped into her sheepishly admitted his fault.

"Don't worry." Her lips curled into a smile.

"Please, take a seat." Observing the glisten of perspiration on her brow, Tyrone escorted her from the dance floor.

"Sure."

They located an empty booth and settled in.

Tyrone excused himself to the restroom.

A young man boasting colorful hair approached their table, wine glass in hand, and queried, "May I have the pleasure of inviting you to dance?"

Declining his invitation, Sabrina said, "My apologies. I need a bit of rest."

The stranger took a seat opposite Sabrina and gestured for the waiter.

He procured a glass of wine from the passing tray and slid it to Sabrina. "A drink, perhaps?"

Sabrina was adamant. "Sorry, but I can't drink."

"I notice you're sitting alone. Mind if I keep you company? Let me introduce myself. I'm Malcom. Ever heard of Aston Real Estate Company?

It's my father's. And your name is, miss?" The man presented an overly proud Look.

He was confident in his understanding of women. Though they might appear high-minded, a hint of his wealthy background would soon have them fawning.

"My name is..."

"Mr. Aston?"