Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
This time, he’s not driving, so he opens the back door to a sleek black car before helping me in, then walks around to the other side so he can slide in beside me. God, he is overwhelming and too gorgeous for my own good. Some people can pull off that effortlessly sexy look he’s got going on right now. All I know is that when his eyes meet mine as the car begins rolling down the driveway, his grandfather would be thrilled because I’m pretty sure I got pregnant without him putting a hand on me.
He was right about the club, which I’m glad to see is more of an intimate bar with a dance floor. There are still plenty of people around, a few dozen dancers on the floor with another group clustered around the bar, but at least I won’t have to scream to be heard.
“Do you come here a lot?” I ask as he ushers me through the crowd with a hand against my lower back. I’d swear he’s burning my skin through the dress. Focus, girl. Don’t let your horniness get in the way.
“From time to time. I don’t have much of a social life.” Right, but that doesn’t stop just about everybody who sees him from taking a step back or nodding in recognition. Is it respect or fear? Is there a difference in this world?
“Always busy with work?”
“Something like that.” We reach the bar, where a trio of guys take an interest in me, at least if the way they stare at me means anything. Enzo very deliberately positions himself between them and me, turning his back to them like they don’t mean anything. Does he even know how possessive he’s acting right now?
Dammit, and I want to read into it, don’t I? I hope this night doesn’t end up turning into a mistake.
I ask for a glass of white wine while Enzo orders whiskey for himself. “What about you?” he asks once we have our drinks, which seem to appear out of thin air like the bartender was waiting for us. The perks of being related to the owner, I guess.
“What about me?”
He waves a hand, indicating everything around us. “Do you go out a lot?”
“I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve been to a club, any club.”
“Really?” He tips his head to the side, frowning like he’s puzzled by this.
“Is that such a big surprise?”
“I don’t know. I figured you’re young, you were in school. Isn’t that what people do in college?”
“Maybe some people. It never interested me much.” I have to bite my tongue before I slip up and explain I never exactly had the money for a social life. It would be so easy to trip up and say the wrong thing—and dammit, the wine I’m holding probably isn’t going to make it any easier to guard the things I say. I didn’t think about that. I’m going to have to take it easy on the booze.
“I’m more of a homebody,” I conclude with a shrug. “I’ve always been that way.”
“That’s not a bad thing.” Yes, I’m sure the idea of him having a quiet little homebody for a wife, somebody who he won’t have to worry about, is a big relief.
Once our glasses are empty, he grins. “Come on.” He winds his fingers around mine and begins pulling me away from the bar toward the floor. “I want to see the way you move in that dress.”
Okay, that is super hot, but still. “I’m not much of a dancer. I have to tell you that right now.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just relax, and have a little fun. It doesn’t matter if you’re any good or not.” Easy for him to say. I’ve never stepped on his foot, but I’m probably going to by the time we’re finished.
Once we reach the center of the floor, the song changes to something with a driving, Latin beat. He grins like this is exactly what he wanted to hear as he turns to me, placing his hands on my waist. “Just move with me,” he calls out over the music. “That’s all you have to do. Relax, and let me lead you around.”
I’m still way too nervous, but what the hell? What’s the worst that could happen? Maybe I shouldn’t ask myself that question.
Once he starts moving, though, my apprehension dissolves. I thought he was sexy before? The man swivels his hips, drawing me close before taking my right hand in his left and pressing his right hand against my back. “Just follow my lead,” he reminds me with a wink before moving again, his body brushing against mine with every swivel of his hips, every twist of his waist. I could happily stand here and watch him move all day, but instead, I have the joy of trying to keep up.