Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
He holds my gaze, and butterflies erupt, creating a warm flutter inside my belly. There’s no more denying the attraction between us, and I don’t know how much longer I can lie to myself. My body aches to be touched by him again. And deep down, I think he feels the same. “Theo, I—”
Another client interrupts. I stand there quietly, my body screaming with need. I take a sip of my champagne to help calm myself, but it’s useless. The silk fabric suddenly feels heavy against my skin.
“I’m sorry. Excuse me. Theo, I’m just going to go find the bar.” Theo’s hand wraps around my arm before I can make my escape.
“Pleasure catching up. If you’ll excuse us.” The man nods as Theo directs us toward the bar. “What’s wrong? You look flushed.”
He has no idea. “Nothing. Just thirsty. And I wanted to practice my weaponry. How’d I do?”
Another small chuckle falls off his tongue, and I swear, it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. “Horrible. You’re supposed to save me, not ditch me.” It’s then he notices my full glass of champagne. “Is there something wrong with the champagne? Did you want something different?”
“Nope.” I tip my head, shooting back the entire flute. “That was good. I’ll take another.” This whole one-eighty from him is confusing me. He’s being. . . nice. Gentle. He orders another and hands it to me, and I inhale that one too. “Okay. All good.” I place the glass on the bar top.
His smile is semi-devious as he takes my hand and guides me around the ballroom. Conversation after conversation, he introduces me to clients and business associates. I enjoy the ambiance and expensive champagne as he works the room and talks business. When we’re finally seated for dinner, the speeches are just as Vincent described—painful. The dance floor immediately fills when the tables are cleared from dinner.
“Dance with me.”
I look up to find who could have asked me that. There’s no way Theo Monroe dances. Or me. My mom wasn’t lying. “You dance?”
“I’ve been known to a time or two. Up we go.” He stands, offers me his hand, and escorts me to the floor. I’m a little wobbly from the heels and the champagne. Tingles run up my spine when the palm of his hand rests on my lower back and he brings me closer.
“I don’t know how to dance,” I admit looking up at him from under my lashes.
He tugs me closer. “I’ll go slow. Follow my lead.” The symphony plays as I stare down at his feet.
“Look at me.”
“I can’t. I need to follow your—”
“Look up at me.” And I do. His steely voice has become my weakness. His eyes are fire, heating me through to my core. “Dancing is a partnership. You follow better if you look at your partner. You can read my patterns and move rhythmically. See, there you go.”
My eyes stay locked on his, and song after song, we dance. When I’m not sure my feet can take another song in these heels, Theo escorts us away.
“That was amazing. I never knew how. . .”
“Beautiful it can be.”
He surprises me with his interpretation. “How do you know how to dance like this?”
“Forced lessons growing up. But I really began to love it in France when I was with. . .” He stalls for a moment as if he were about to reveal something personal. “A friend. . . who taught me. Ready for another drink?” There’s a slight shift in his manner, and we hold our gaze until I nod, and we exit the dance floor.
The remainder of the evening is spent making small talk, listening to boring business chatter, and drinking copious amounts of champagne. I excuse myself, finding a nook outside on the terrace to gather my thoughts. I feel like I’m out with two different men. The asshole and the gentleman. There’s no way they can be the same person. Theo is ruthless and, well, rude. But this man tonight. . . Imposter Theo is kind and stirs up emotions I’m not sure I want to think about. It has to be the champagne. I’m going to blame it strictly on the champagne.
“Here you are.” Theo’s voice has me turning away from the balcony. All the champagne I’ve consumed makes me lose my balance at the sudden movement. He’s there, wrapping his arm around my waist and saving me again. “Are you alright?” There’s worry in his tone.
“Yeah, sorry. Just tired and maybe overdid the bubbly.”
“You were supposed to save me there.”
I can’t help but bask in the warmth of his hold. “The conversation seemed to be getting intense. I thought I would give you two your privacy.”
“Ah, says the nosy little assistant who went through my call log.”
Ugh. I thought we were past that little slip-up. “I’m not sure what you’re—”