Page 52 of Damaged Mogul
“One, two. Three, four.”
I follow my dance partner’s instructions.
All these names to remember and me trying hard not to cause Cesar grievous bodily harm have kept my mind occupied.
No time to think about Gage.
“May I cut in,” a man says, tapping Cesar’s shoulder.
I lift my eyes.
A tall man towers over Cesar and me.
Wow, another guy who could double as a fitness model.
This group of attractive people is a little intimidating, to be honest.
“¡Ay, caramba!Go away, Collin, you’re bothering us,” Cesar says.
Translation:Damn it.
I laugh.
“Hello.” The newcomer ignores Cesar’s jab and focuses his attention on me. “I’m Collin Dennison.” He flashes me a dazzling smile. “I’m sorry I’m late. Had I known you’d be here tonight, I would’ve arrived sooner… but I’m here now.”
If he wasn’t this gorgeous, that pickup line would have cheesy written all over it.
Cesar lets out an exasperated sigh and stops dancing, forcing me to do the same.
Cesar hooks a hand on his hip, adopting an impatient stance. “Can’t you see we’re busy, Dennison?”
“Don’t be rude,amigo,” Collin says. “There’s a gorgeous new face in our inner circle and we haven’t been introduced yet. That right there, is a crime.”
Cesar rolls his eyes hard.
Collin Denison is a blue-eyed hunk who has a face—and body—that should be gracing a men’s magazine cover. He’s adorned in a dark blue linen shirt that molds his muscular torso. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing a peek of tattooed forearms. The white linen pants and navy-blue shoes complement theshirt to perfection. The newcomer oozes as much style, confidence, and charisma as all the men at this private party.
“Pleased to meet you.” Collin extends a hand. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours. That means, I’m at a disadvantage.”
Smooth talker.
I shake his hand. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Lily Schuyler.”
“Lovely Lily, you’re wasting your time with this guy. He’s happily married.”
“She knows.” Cesar flashes his left hand. “My wife is here.”
“My point exactly.”
Cesar narrows his eyes at Collin.
He ignores the warning in my teacher’s gaze and points his charm-laser at me. “I’mverysingle, and unlike him”—he crooks a thumb in Cesar’s direction— “I’m an excellent salsa dancer.”
He does a few suave moves to demonstrate.
Oh yeah, he’s cocky all right.
“And which one of your parents is Latino?” Cesar purses his lips.
