Her forehead creased. “Of course...” She looked back at the people yelling encouragement for them to dance. She bit her lip. “But not in front of everyone...”
“Now.” Darius pulled her against his tuxedo-clad body. “Dance with me.”
Letty’s long dark hair was falling softly around her beautiful face to her shoulders, nestling against the diamonds sparkling around her neck. He’d already wanted her, but as he felt her body in his arms, and the crush of her belly and swollen breasts against his chest, he wanted her even more.
Just like that long-ago summer...
“Come on, Letty,” he said in a low voice. “Let’s show them all we don’t give a damn.”
He moved commandingly onto the dance floor, leading her in the first steps of the waltz he’d helped her practice for her debutante ball long ago, the spring of her senior year. They’d practiced the waltz over and over in the sunlit spring flower meadow on the Fairholme estate, overlooking the sparkling bay, as music sang from her phone.
They’d started out as friends and ended as something else entirely.
When she’d left for her debutante ball in Manhattan that May, looking beautiful beyond belief in her white dress, Darius spent the whole evening prowling the meadow in a rage, hating the Harvard boy who was her date.
He’d been shocked when Letty came back early, whispering, “I didn’t want to dance with anyone but you...”
Darius had taken one look at Letty’s joyous, upturned face sur
rounded by spring flowers, and then he, the chauffeur’s son, had done the unthinkable: he’d wrapped her in his powerful arms and kissed her...
Now, as he swirled her around in that waltz, it was like going back in time. The audience standing on the edge of the dance floor clapped their approval. In this moment, in this place, Darius and Letty were the king and queen of the city, the pinnacle of all his youthful dreams.
But he barely noticed the crowds. There was only Letty. He was back in that meadow, a young man so sure of his own heart, so naively enthusiastic about his future, dancing with the beautiful princess he’d dreamed about, the one he could never deserve. And, oh, how he’d craved her to his very core...
Now, Darius pulled her more indecently close to his hard, aching body than any waltz allowed. She lifted her luminous gaze to his, visibly holding her breath. The electricity between them suddenly sizzled with heat.
He stopped dancing. Louder than the music, he heard the rush of his blood in his ears, the pounding of his own heart.
He needed her in his bed.
Now.
The music abruptly ended, and the ballroom exploded in applause echoing from the high ceiling. Without a word, Darius led her from the dance floor. He pulled her through the crowds, which parted for them like magic. Compliments and cheers followed them. Everywhere, people were apologizing to Letty for how badly they’d treated her. He recognized Poppy Alexander.
“I’m so sorry, Letty,” the girl blurted out. “I was afraid to be your friend. I knew it wasn’t your fault, what happened, but I was a coward...”
“That’s all right, Poppy,” Letty replied gently. She looked around at everyone else. “I don’t blame anyone.”
Darius thought about the dragon Poppy had for a mother, and he couldn’t blame her for being scared. Until he thought of how bad Letty’s life had been for the last decade, and he didn’t think any of them deserved another minute of Letty’s time.
He swept Letty away without looking back. He didn’t care about anyone or anything right now, except getting her into his bed.
Darius pulled his phone from his tuxedo jacket pocket. By the time they exited the stately beaux-arts building, his limo was waiting at the curb. Collins leaped out and opened the passenger door.
The second they were in the backseat, and the door closed behind them, Darius pulled Letty roughly into his arms and kissed her.
Her lips were sweet as sin. She trembled, her curves melting against him. His whole body was hard with need. He had to have her.
“Sir?” said Collins from the driver’s seat.
“Home,” he said hoarsely. “As fast as you can.”
Then he pressed the button that raised the barrier between front and back seats. Just those few seconds were agony. But he was not willing to share Letty with anyone. He’d shared her enough.
She belonged to him now. To him alone.
Once they had privacy in the backseat, he kissed her passionately as the limo moved through the sparkling streets of the lit-up city at midnight. But all he could see was her sensual beauty. All he could feel was the soft brush of her long dark hair, and her warm skin like silk beneath his hands. He pushed her back against the leather seat, devouring her soft lips, kissing her neck, running his hands over her full breasts overflowing the tight pink bodice of her dress.