Page 26 of Seducing the Billionaire

His grin stretches wider. “Ah, that’s the catch.”

“Well, you don’t have to be careful anymore. You could date if you wanted.” The words leave a sour taste in my mouth. I need to get over this infatuation.

He raises his brows. “You think I have time to date?”

Okay, fair point.

“Besides,” he continues, “I’ve never met someone I could see myself with. Not until—” He jerks his head up, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink. Admittedly, if I wasn’t studying him so closely, I’d miss it. “Would you like more champagne? I’m going to go get some more.”

He takes my nearly empty glass out of my hand before I can answer, and hunts down a passing server for two more flutes.

Okay, that was weird.

He returns and hands me a full glass, our fingers brushing slightly, and almost drops it, steadying himself before it spills. “Sorry, I—” He rubs at his temple distractedly. “Ignore me for a minute.”

I step closer, laying a hand on his forearm. “Is everything okay?” His rules for professionalism don’t quite count at the moment, right? We’re not at the office. And besides, something’s up with him.

His Adam’s apple bobs as his gaze flicks between my face and where my hand rests on him. “Emma…” He wavers, suddenly nearer, though I don’t remember either of us moving.

I look up into his vivid blue eyes, something there I haven’t seen before. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was… interest.

A staccato burst of laughter from a woman about ten feet away interrupts the moment, and Connor blinks, whatever I thought I saw in his face gone now. He steps back, a ripping sound from below making us both look down, where his shoe has caught on the edge of my dress, tearing the fabric.

“Oh, shit.” He bends down to examine it, and in his haste spills his champagne. But not just anywhere.

All over me.

Chapter Ten

Connor

“Fuck.”

There’s no other word for it as I stare at Emma’s ruined dress, my gaze getting stuck on her chest as a bead of liquid slowly rolls down into the valley of her breasts. No, no. Don’t look at that.

I avert my eyes, but the image of her cleavage soaked in champagne is already imprinted in my memory. “Here.” I fumble for the flimsy pocket square in my tux and hand it to her, the thin linen essentially useless as she uses it to dab at herself, the liquid continuing to spread over the red silk.

“Shit,” she mutters, holding out the now dripping scrap of fabric. “I ruined it.”

“No, I did.” I take it from her, tossing it into a nearby wastebasket. “I’m so sorry. I’ll buy you a new dress. Ten new dresses. A new wardrobe.”

The worried look leaves her face temporarily as she rolls her eyes, easing something within me. She must not be too mad, then. “That’s overkill.”

It’s really not. The way she’s been helping me, encouraging me, boosting me up since the very beginning. I owe her so much more.

I shrug off my tuxedo jacket to drape over her shoulders, careful not to touch her bare skin. If it happens again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold in my reaction. Not that I’ve hidden anything so far tonight. Her looking up at me with those innocent green eyes just a minute ago, her hand warm on my arm, body close enough to feel her heat… it was almost more than I could take.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“But the benefit,” she says, glancing behind her. “You still—”

“I’ve accomplished what I need to.”

I send a quick text to Allen, asking him to pick us up early and steer her toward the exit, ignoring the fact my hand is on her lower back. What I’m touching is the jacket, not her.

Thankfully, we don’t have to traverse the length of the ballroom to find a way out. There are already enough curious stares directed toward us in just the short distance we travel.

“Is this what it’s like for you all the time?” she whispers.

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