Page 29 of The Billionaire's Catch

Desire as she’d never felt it pulled at her, compelling her to accept this man. It was foolish. It was dangerous. Yet before she could refuse, he took her in his arms and pulled her close. Then… she was lost.

She swayed to the soft melody, held captive in his powerful stance. Not a word was spoken as they twirled around the dance floor, gazing into each other’s eyes. Jason was a talented dancer, graceful and smooth, gliding on a path made of clouds. He drew her closer and closer until she leaned into his heated chest, nestled against steel muscle. She should break away, but she didn’t resist, not even as the song ended and another began. They danced and danced and danced, not stopping until the band finally did. For a moment, they just stared at each other.

This time she didn’t say a word as he took her hand and led her off the dance floor. For once, no one approached, and she wondered if it had to do with the chemistry that heated the world to a supernova. They traveled to the buffet, where he filled two plates with savory appetizers of crusty bread with seasoned bruschetta, light pastries smothered in gourmet cheese and berry-filled desserts. He led her to a table for two.

Something had changed between them, something rare and unexpected, forging an intimate connection. He wasn’t the villain she’d assumed, and it made him all the more irresistible. Still, she was a professional and couldn’t get involved with someone known to move from woman to woman, even if she was beginning to suspect he didn’t deserve that reputation either. “You seem different today.”

He fingered the pastry, but made no move to eat it. “I’m the same man.”

She bit into a phyllo dough shell, savory with the rich flavor of gourmet cheese, still hot from the oven. She wiped her mouth with a lace napkin. “Maybe I’m just seeing the real you. Why didn’t you tell me you volunteered at the hospital?”

He shrugged. “It should be about the kids, not me. If there’s a bunch of cameras snapping away, it turns it into something else.”

“But you didn’t even let Jenny take a few photos,” she said softly. “Surely that wouldn’t hurt. It’s as if you don’t want people to see the real you.”

He replaced the pastry on his plate without taking a bite. “I’m not doing it for the recognition.”

No, he wasn’t. He was doing it because he was a good guy – far more than she realized. If only he would open up about everything – his behavior, the fight, the accident. If they shared even a few details of what happened, the scandal could be eased. “Jason, about that night…”

He looked up sharply. “What night?”

She hesitated. It was dangerous territory, but it had the potential to change everything. “The night of the accident. I know we’ve discussed this already, but are you sure the press got it right?”

His gaze hardened into icy shards. “I bought Alan drinks. He drank too much. He drove my car. My fault – end of story.”

Raw memories from her own accident rose. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “That’s the report, but did they get anything wrong? Any detail that may change the way the public perceives you?” The truth was, she already felt differently about him. No matter his mistakes, he was a good man who helped a great deal of people. Perhaps it was time to stop focusing on the past, and instead embrace the future.

Only he wasn’t making it easy. He shook his head curtly. “No. That’s it.”

He was lying. Somehow she just knew. Perhaps if she were more forthcoming, he would be as well. “I’ll admit some of my assumptions have been wrong. You’re not quite as contrary as I believed.” She held up her finger. “Although you haven’t let me leave your side this whole night.”

That had the power to lighten the mood, as he visibly relaxed. “That doesn’t have anything to do with image. I want to get to know you better.”

“Why?” Her voice emerged breathless and light. She cleared her throat. “We don’t exactly get along.”

“There’s a narrow line between not getting along and getting along far too well.” He leaned forward. “There’s something between us, something that needs to be explored.”

Maybe, but… “I won’t be one of your ladies.”

He sat back and folded his arms across his chest. “Is that what this is about? You think I have a hundred girlfriends?”

Heat nuzzled her neck. If only he were the type to stick to one woman, perhaps there could be a chance. Because slowly, she was starting to see the man so many women desired.

“Just because I have friends doesn’t mean I can’t be faithful.”

Faithful? What was he talking about? When he’d mentioned a connection, she thought he was suggesting a little mutual enjoyment. Was he thinking about something else? Something permanent?

“It’s worth exploring.”

She had no answer to that, so she looked down and took another bite. After a minute, so did he. The conversation after that should have been awkward, but small talk progressed to a comfortable exchange to full out banter. The musicians turned on another set, and she simply couldn’t resist when he held out his hand and returned her to the dance floor. She spent the rest of the night in his arms.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

Nothing had felt so right. Holding Dara in his arms, dancing with her, keeping her near. They connected in so many ways beyond physical attraction. Their conversations were lively and fun, and even the quiet times were filled with peace and contentment, rare emotions since the accident. Her presence at the hospital was a little uncomfortable, but less than he expected. Even now, as he sat next to her in the huge SUV limo escorting the team to the hotel, everything felt so right.

When he first met her, Dara had been the enemy, a corporate people pleaser looking to change him for her own personal success. As he’d gotten to know her, he understood her and her mission better. He wasn’t going to alter his whole life, but now he had an idea of how to achieve both their goals.

Of course, he could solve everything by telling her the truth about the accident, followed by a grand reveal to the entire world. Only then the whole episode would resurface, and with it the reporters hounding him at all hours, the stares, the never-ending attention. He always got attention, but never like that. Alan would see the coverage, scraping the wounds open anew.

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