He was right. She stopped when she heard it, eyes wide.
Darius looked down at her with a crooked half smile. “What do you say? Will you dance with me, Letty?”
She looked around at all the people who had treated her with such contempt for the last ten years, now beaming at her as if they were best friends.
“Why are they acting as if they like me?” she said softly, for his ears alone.
“People love to talk about character and loyalty and love. They mean money.” He allowed himself a grim smile. “Now the money’s been paid, so they can love you again.”
Letty’s head snapped back to look at him. Her big hazel eyes, fringed with dark lashes, were wide, as if he were a superhero who’d flown down from the sky. “Why did you do it, Darius? Why pay five billion dollars for a debt that isn’t yours?”
The music swirled around them like a whirlwind. “Do you remember our old waltz?”
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 surrounded 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.
He kissed her savagely, biting and sucking her lower lip. A gasp of need came from her throat as she returned his kiss with matching fire, gripping his shoulders through his tuxedo jacket. He kissed slowly down her neck as her head fell back, her eyes closed, her expression one of ecstasy.
When he saw that, it was all he could do not to take her, right here in the back of the limo. He was unconsciously reaching for his fly when he realized they’d stopped.
Resurfacing from his haze of desire, he saw the limo was parked beneath the porte cochere in front of his building. Just in time, too. He glanced at Letty, stretched back against the smooth calfskin leather seat. Her big hazel eyes were smoky with passion, her dark hair mussed, her pink dress disheveled. Another moment and he would have yanked up her dress and roughly pushed inside her.
That wasn’t how he wanted this night to be, fast and brutish in the back of a limo. No. After the disaster of their first night together, when he’d taken her virginity then insulted her and tossed her out of the penthouse into the snow, he wanted this night to be perfect.
He would finally treat Letitia Spencer, the forbidden princess of his youth, as she deserved to be treated.
He would enjoy her as he deserved to enjoy her.
Thoroughly.
Reaching over, he smoothed the fabric of Letty’s bodice modestly back over her breasts just as the passenger door opened behind him.
Taking her hand, he led her out of the limo and into the elegant lobby, where the doorman greeted him. “Good evening, sir.”
“Good evening, Jones.” Such civilized words. Wearing a tuxedo, Darius