Page 24 of The Bossy Billionaire

“I swear to you, Lucy, that I wasn’t with Sandra. I don’t even like her,” he assures me. “Let me in because you owe me that dance.” His bossy nature comes out again, and I open the door and step back.

“I told you, I don’t dance,” I say, watching him step inside the shop. With no lights on, it is dark, and I step away and watch him close and lock the door.

“Yes, you do. I bet you were a party girl when you were younger.” He smirks at me knowingly. I give him the side-eye but don’t say anything because he is right. Again. I always loved to dance. As a kid, I always had music on at home and would dance around the bookshop every chance I got. “Yeah, you sure were.” I don’t know how he does that. Seems to know everything without me telling him. No wonder he is so good at business; he can read people like a book.

“I can’t remember the last time I put music on at home.” I didn’t lie to him earlier. I don’t dance anymore.

“Well, let’s go up, put some music on now,” he says, and I look at him, eyes wide. “I'll look after you. We’ll go slow.” He grabs my hand, my palm sliding against his. The connection warms me, making me feel safe.

“Okay,” I whisper, then I turn and walk through the shop, pulling him behind me. We head up the rickety stairs, and I pull him inside my home.

“This is nice. Very you.” His eyes do a quick scan of my place. I haven’t had a man here in my space in a long time. He is so tall and out of place yet looks completely at ease. He pulls his cell out and taps a few times and a slow song comes on.

“I am not the same girl I used to be. I don’t know if I can even sidestep,” I tell him, because it is a fact. I may have danced a lot in college, but I haven’t even done one dance step since my accident.

“Yes, you are, she is just buried underneath there somewhere. Come on, dance with me,” Huxley says as he stands just out of reach, holding out his hand to me in offering. His smile is wide, his eyes dancing in delight.

“Stop grinning like that,” I murmur, because he is having too much fun with this. He pulls me toward him, and I am shaking a little as nerves strum through my body. Huxley Hamilton looks like he wants to devour me whole, so I take a big breath and steel myself to have his hands on my body.

“Now who is being bossy?” he murmurs to me, his face now close, his lips near my ear. His hand snakes around my lower back, and he leans forward slightly and kisses my temple. It is quick but intimate, and my breathing quickens as I try to get a grasp on what the hell is going on. He pulls me close, holding me securely, and we start to sway.

“See, we are dancing,” he says quietly as we gently move from side to side.

“I can't remember the last time I danced,” I tell him honestly, starting to feel emotional. It may not seem like much to the outside world, but this is a milestone moment for me.

“It’s like riding a bike, you never forget.” I feel his fingers rubbing the small of my back absentmindedly, reminding me to breathe.

“I can’t remember the last time I rode a bike either.” I smile, my body now relaxing into his. We are close, our bodies touching. Too close to be just friends.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He moves his hand in mine and pulls mine up over his shoulders so they rest on the back of his neck. My lips part on a small gasp as he slides his other hand around my waist like they are always meant to be there. “See, you can dance,” he says, smiling, and although my leg throbs a little, it is no worse than it has been all night.

I don’t know if it is the music, the dancing, or being in Huxley’s arms, but the smile on my face is now almost permanent and not forced for the first time all night.

“So did you know about the literacy program?” he asks me, and my smile only widens. That was a program I was interested in, and for Harrison to talk about Bloomer Books and our children's program really made my heart swell.

“No. I mean, I knew they were looking at something. My brothers come into the bookshop regularly. Harrison did story time with me once, and the media had a field day.” I think back to that day. We had so many people in the shop, we needed security. But it was fun to see our governor sit in my big armchair and read a fairy tale. Beth and I were watching with big grins that day.

“It is a good cause. Nice for Bloomers to be included.” This is why he is a good businessman. He sees the vision before anyone else.

“Maybe Bloomers can be an outreach for the program?” I whisper, coming to the same conclusion he already has.

“Makes sense. The foundation usually would need to buy or lease premises to run programs. Why don’t you run one a few times a week and get paid for it? You have the space. You have the books. You have the expertise.” He makes it all sound so easy.

“That would be fun. I love working with the kids,” I tell him, renewed enthusiasm now running through my bones. I haven’t been excited about anything in such a long time, and now I feel like I am going to burst.

“You will also get paid handsomely. Charge your brothers market rate for the space, charge them full price for the books, and then your full hourly rate for running the program,” Huxley says, no doubt already thinking of the financial return.

“I couldn’t ask them to pay. It is for the kids.” That doesn’t sit well with me.

“They will pay many other people just as much. They are the Rothschilds. They have more money than they know what to do with. Let them pay you the market rate. You don’t run a charity. Get paid what you are worth.”

“But I don’t know what I am worth,” I tell him, a little worried that I have no idea what my hourly rate should be.

“You are priceless…” he whispers, something in his voice changing, and my heart stutters. My body stops swaying as I pull back a little and look at him. He has told me a few times tonight that I am beautiful, but that was all in general conversation and lightheartedness, like you would say to any woman in the room. But priceless. Said in a tone laced with heat and admiration. My breathing becomes rapid, and I am not sure what to do. His hands move then, from the comfort of my waist, to run up my body simultaneously before he cups my face.

“Absolutely priceless,” he whispers, pulling my face to meet his. I stand up on my tippy-toes and grab on to his lapels for balance as we close the distance between us. In the background, the music continues to play, but when our lips touch, I lose every sense of my body and give everything to him.

His lips move against mine with such tenderness, I nearly fall. He kisses me so deliberately, so thoroughly that there is no mistaking he wants this. Wants me. His hold on me doesn’t waver as our tongues tangle, and my body starts to melt against his, our chests pressed together. I feel like I am floating.

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