Page 34 of Rival to the Billionaire

Yeah, right…like my high isn't a result of his touch.

I can barely keep my own feet with the way he's holding one of my hands while keeping his other arm locked around my waist like a steel band.

"What are you doing?" I mutter under my breath while being tugged away from the group of people I've been talking to.

With a sense of bravado, I match his stride, not giving in to the need to stop and make an excuse to leave.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm trying to find a quiet place for us to talk."

I guffaw. "In Las Vegas? This is Sin City. Hell, you'd have a better chance of getting in touch with Elvis' ghost than finding any kind of peace."

Ryder rolls his eyes, his hand still gripping my hip hard. "Very funny."

"You were the one who planned on coming to this conference to network. And then the first event we attend, you start going all Neanderthal on me?"

I shoot him a spiteful look, my heart starting to pound. I glance around at the other conference goers, noticing some of them are watching us with a sort of uneasy curiosity. I narrow my eyes, tugging on Ryder’s hand until we both come to a halt.

"We have to at least pretend to be friendly colleagues here. Don't we?" I glance around, motioning. "And normal colleagues talk to people. Drink. Mingle. Dance."

Ryder raises an eyebrow as the ballroom bustles around us. "You want to dance?"

I wrinkle my nose and glare at him. "I mean, it's not a requirement. But we should at least try acting like we like gatherings of people. People are gonna be looking at us like we're sideshow freaks or something if we play this literal Tug of War while all these women and men grind their hips on the dance floor."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"Of course I am. Not 'playing along' is the reason the board looks at me like a leper in a lab coat most of the time." I exhale. "I'm trying to do what Derek wants. I'm trying to socialize. And right now, you're not making it easy for anyone to like being around us."

Ryder's hands slide off my waist and land on my shoulders. I take a moment to note his frustrated stance. The narrowed stare. His hands clenching into fists. His jaw ticking.

"So…is that why you're wearing this?" he asks, gesturing to the red, low-cut, thinly-strapped dress I'm wearing. "Because you want to be 'likable', Forde?"

I straighten my back. "It's worked for you, hasn't it?"

"Looks can be deceiving, Forde."

"Spoken like a man who’s used his looks to sway people all of his life.”

From the look on his face, I can tell I've managed to get under his skin.

"What does it matter to you?" he mutters under his breath. “That was in my past, let’s be clear on that. But I'll tell you this—you don't want to mess with me, Forde. Not now. And especially not tonight. We need to talk."

"You've said that twice now. And you're still not making any sense."

Ryder looks over his shoulder and spots someone opening a door which leads out onto a terrace. Before it closes, cool air wraps around us, making me shudder.

He gives me a piercing look, pausing, and then his hand slips off my hip. I feel the absence of his touch, the urge to pull him in closer.

He sighs. "Alright, fine. Just come with me."

Grabbing my elbow, he pulls me towards the dance floor, a few steps away from where we were. The music weaves around us as the dancers move to and fro, blissfully unaware of the pair of human shaped icebergs that have entered their midst.

The rhythm picks up. The music, a sensual number with congas and Spanish guitars, becomes faster, and before I realize what's happening, we're dancing. Not the type of dancing where people lazily sway back and forth. That’s what most people are doing on the dance floor right now.

No, this—this is something else.

I'm almost embarrassed to admit it, but when Ryder and I move along with the music, my body moves with him. There's a way in which he moves me across the floor. Like he's putting his knowledge of me to use, understanding the way my body responds, the way it moves, the way it fits against him.

I do my best to ignore the warmth of his hand at the small of my back.

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