Leo is a jerk. Leo is a jerk.
Maybe if she kept repeating it, she might remember it.
Because Leo’s jerk credentials had become harder and harder to remember through supper, every time he smiled at her with desire darkening his gaze; every time he offered her a taste from his plate like the Pied Piper of seduction; every time he murmured some wry observation and made her laugh; every time he made her heart thunder, or her pulse race or the hot sweet spot between her thighs throb.
Leo might be a jerk, but he was also a super-hot and super-charismatic jerk—and now he was giving her the undivided attention she had once craved, he was also super addictive.
They reached the centre of the ballroom at last, the crowd flowing in behind them to wait for their inaugural dance. Leo positioned himself in front of her, resplendent in his dress uniform, an array of medals emblazoned across his chest, his shoulders so broad and strong all she could see was him. Threading his fingers through hers, he lifted her right hand into position as the thirty-piece orchestra played the opening bars of a Viennese waltz, then wrapped his other arm around her waist to draw her into his big body.
Sensation shot up her spine, as his large palm rested on the small of her back, above the low-cut gown. The gown she’d spent an extra hour getting into to make him wait. And to irritate the heck out of him.
While Jade was en route to New York to get a life, Juno had decided her mission tonight was to make Leo reconsider the benefits of a ‘political union’ with the Queen.
She had thought it would be a cinch. Because eight summers ago irritating Leo had been her super power.
But not tonight.
Tonight every time she opened her smart mouth, made a suggestive comment or attempted some subtle—and some not so subtle—mockery, instead of irritating Leo, she had amused him. And he had only become more attentive.
And attentive was bad, because it only encouraged the impulsiveness that had always been Juno’s downfall.
As soon as she’d descended the stairs into the anteroom and seen the ludicrously hot figure Leo cut in his formal clothes, his black hair almost blue, the tempting dimple in his chin making her want to lick it, the shot of adrenaline had become addictive.
And as the night had gone on, it had only got worse.
Because beneath his formal attire and curt mocking manners, Leo had discovered how to neutralise her super power.
No man had ever been aware of her every breath and blush and heartbeat with the same raptor-like focus. No man had ever spoken to her with such respect for her intellect while also relishing, even encouraging, her attempts to outrage and disarm him. No man had ever enjoyed her company the way he appeared to.
And as a result, the only person who had been disarmed was her.
And that had not been the plan at all.
Even as she knew her reaction to Leo was getting out of control, her body swayed in time with his as he swung her round in the steps of the dance. Her breath seized and she got a lungful of his rich exotic scent—starch, salt and subtle, sandalwood cologne.
Her pulse throbbed heavily in her sex—and everywhere his body touched hers—as the lights from the chandelier whirred above their heads.
At last the other guests began to join them on the ballroom floor. The lights dimmed, the dancers glided around in the golden glow of candlelight—their finery as dazzling as the ballroom’s ornate rococo design. But all Juno could focus on was the man she clung to.
As the waltz ended, Leo brought them to an abrupt halt in the middle of the room, then leant down.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he murmured, his breath sending a shiver down her neck. ‘So we can discuss our future plans.’
Not a good idea.
‘We... We can’t,’ she managed, disturbed by how much she wanted to say yes. ‘I’m the host. I’m supposed to stay till the end of the ball.’
I think!
His lips quirked in the super-sexy smile that had been driving her insane all evening. ‘Really? You’re going to play the protocol card after teasing me to death through two solid hours of too-rich food and that never-ending speech from your minister of state?’
‘Well... Yes,’ she said, stupidly flattered by the thought she’d had the power to tease him at all. ‘It will look bad.’
‘Jade, honey.’ He sighed, cradling her cheek. His calloused palm skimmed over her skin, as his thumb found the pulse hammering in her collarbone. She could feel the eyes of the assembled guests on them, hear the hushed whispers above the music at his forward behaviour. He was making a spectacle of them both, why did that only excite her more?
Was that Leo’s superpower—the ability to seduce any woman into compliance at fifty paces?
‘We have much to discuss,’ he added. ‘And everyone will think it’s romantic if I drag you away after one dance.’