Page 17 of The Mogul: Leonard

“Or you can dance with me,” he suggests.

His proposal floors me. As of an hour ago, he couldn’t stand my presence.

“Why should I?” I frown.

“Because right now, people are noticing that something’s going on. We could dance, and it would seem like I’m taking over, wanting to dance with you. Or you could storm off, and people will be speculating about what happened and stirring up drama at your sister’s party.”

I look around and see what he means. Other guests are starting stare at us.

“Fine.” I give up.

He extends his hand towards me, and I hesitantly take it. His hand is large and rough to the touch. I had always assumed he prioritizes his appearance, but feeling his calloused hand surprises me. He doesn’t spend money on something as frivolous as a manicure.

The other hand reaches behind my back, placing its warm imprint at a respectful distance from my butt. He keeps a safe few inches between us, but I can feel the heat radiating from his body and the manly scent of his cologne. There is something powerful and protective in the way he is holding me. I feel small and safe in his arms.

He guides me, swaying to the music and giving me the impression he knows exactly what he is doing. How many women has he held like this at parties? And why is the thought of his hands on another woman’s body bugging me?

My free hand travels up his firm arm and stops at his wide shoulder. Every movement enhances his toned body. I’ve never seen him without clothes, but I can make out the shape of his pecs through the tight shirt hugging his body. I should stop staring at his chest.

I look up, and I realize I made a mistake. His grey eyes roam over my face, hungry and desperate to go lower, so much lower on my body. His lips are set in a thin line, his brow furrowed in what seems like concentration, but it’s the tick in his jaw that gives him away. He is trying to restrain himself, but from what? Barking at me? Running away from this dance floor? Kissing me? Every one of those is a possibility because his expression is so hard to read.

He lowers his head and our eyes meet. Am I standing on my toes? Perhaps to see the storm brewing in his beautiful eyes. He is so close I can feel his minty breath on my face. His toned chest is pressed against mine while my other arm has slipped up his shoulder, and now I’m cupping his neck, his short hair tickling my fingertips.

Since when do we get this close? I think as he places his other hand on the bare skin of my back. It’s both infuriatingly protective and perfect, leaving me almost breathless. Leonard is someone I shouldn’t have strong feelings for, but right now, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. His embrace makes me feel like the most precious piece of art in the world. It’s as if the world could fall apart around us, and we’d be perfectly fine.

We are still dancing for the sake of my sister’s party, but I’m not sure what’s going on between us. It’s like when we touched, we altered the chemistry in our bodies, making it impossible to pull apart.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I need Roxanne to come with me.” Raphael’s voice is like a slap in the face.

Leonard tightens the grip on my body for a second longer before diverting his intense gaze from me to his best friend. When reality hits him he takes a step back and nods. I’m not the only one that got lost in the moment.

When I finally dare to look at Raphael, his expression is a bit suspicious. Did he notice the tension between us? I don’t even know what it was, and I definitely don’t want to give him an explanation about why I was all over his friend. Then a smile appears on his face, and his eyes soften, as they always do when he looks at me.

“Thank you for saving her from that prick. I was ready to make a scene if he didn’t let her go,” he says to Leonard, thanking him for his intervention.

I guess I don’t have to explain myself after all.

“You should really check who you invite to these parties.” I grin at him, but I glance sideways at Leonard. His lips curve in a small smile at my remark about what I told him just before dinner.

“It’s nothing; I would have done it for anyone in that situation,” he minimizes, and my heart sinks.

If I felt special in his arms, even for a moment, that feeling sure as hell goes down the drain with that comment.

I smile and nod in his direction without saying a word before following Raphael toward my sister.

“Come on, please, don’t give up now,” I murmur, leaning my head on the steering wheel and turning the key in the ignition for the tenth time.

I’m starting to regret turning down my sister’s offer for a limo. Betty is the best car in the world but sometimes she dies at the most inconvenient times. Like now, at two in the morning, when I’m miles from home and wearing a fancy dress with heels that are killing my feet.

The parking lot is almost empty; just a few limos still linger, waiting for those who decided to stay longer than usual.

“Please, I don’t have the money for an Uber!” I plead.

“Do you need help?”

I squeal like a little girl, startled by Leonard, who snuck up from behind without me noticing. “Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me,” I say, turning around and facing his scowl.

Does he ever look at someone without that judging face? He doesn’t even acknowledge my outburst but looks at me, waiting for an answer.

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