Matched To Mr Right. Kat Cantrell
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to be around—she’d presumed to spend time with a man she liked and grew weary of the “I’m a workaholic, deal with it” speech.
The longing glances Jenna kept throwing Leo’s way made a heck of a lot more sense now. Despite most likely being told in no uncertain terms not to get emotionally involved, Jenna had done it anyway. Only to be cast aside.
It was a sobering reminder. Dannie had a lot to lose if she made the same mistake.
Sobering. But ineffective.
As her husband’s hand came to rest against the small of her back, she couldn’t help but be tremendously encouraged that Leo had cared enough about Jenna to help her find happiness with someone better suited for her. In the kitchen yesterday, he’d expressed genuine interest in ensuring Dannie wasn’t disappointed with their marriage.
Small gestures, but in Dannie’s mind, they added up to something much larger. He had a good heart underneath all that business acumen. And despite his determination to keep her at arm’s length, he needed her to break through the shell he kept around himself.
But how?
* * *
The champagne left a bitter taste in Leo’s mouth.
If he’d known Jenna would deliberately upset Daniella, he’d never have brought his wife within a mile of her.
He should be having a conversation with Miles Bennett, who was about to launch a software product with some good buzz around it. John Hu was on his radar to speak to as well, and there John was by the bar, talking to Gene Ross’s ancient wife. That conversation couldn’t be about anything other than Mrs. Ross’s show poodle or Miami this time of year, and Leo had no qualms about interrupting either.
Several recent investments hadn’t panned out the way he’d hoped. He needed new blood now. Yesterday would have been better.
Instead of the dozen other things he should be doing, he was watching his wife. Out of the corner of his eye, no less, while he pretended to talk to Dax, who pretended he didn’t notice Leo’s fixation.
Daniella dazzled everyone, despite Jenna’s mean-spirited disclosure.
The mechanics of marriage were still new and he hadn’t fully considered the potential ramifications of introducing the two women. A wife was supposed to be less complicated than regular females, not more. Was Daniella uncomfortable being in the same room with Jenna? Or was she taking it in stride like everything else?
Daniella didn’t look upset. She looked like a gift-wrapped present he’d put on his list a month ago and Christmas was still a week away.
That dress. It dipped against her breasts, revealing just enough to be interesting but not enough to be labeled indecent. The zipper in the back called his name. One tug and the wrapping would peel away, revealing a very nice gift indeed. The delicate shoes she wore emphasized her shapely legs and he liked that far more than he wanted to.
Daniella was the most gorgeous woman in the room. And the most interesting, the most poised and the most vivacious. Bar none. And he wasn’t the only one who thought so, instilling in him a quiet sense of pride with every appreciative glance she earned.
In case she was more upset about Jenna than she let on, he kept a close eye on her as she talked to a couple of Reynolds Capital’s partners. No hardship on his part to watch her graceful hands gesture and her pink-stained lips form words. Then she laughed and the dress slipped a tantalizing inch farther down her breasts. And then another inch.
A flash of heat tensed his entire body and tightened his pants uncomfortably.
He swore and Dax stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Which didn’t appear to be as far out of the realm of possibility as it should.
“I need a refill,” Leo explained and waved his empty champagne flute at a passing waiter.
When the waiter returned, he downed the glass in two gulps. It didn’t cool him down. Something needed to change, very quickly.
He glanced at Daniella. She didn’t turn her head, but her eyes swiveled and she met his gaze with a secret smile, as if to say, later.
Or maybe that was his lower half projecting her meaning. The upper half refused to entertain even one little fantasy about later. Intimacy was supposed to be a progression, and abandoning that idea on day two didn’t bode well for Leo’s state of mind.
They hadn’t developed a friendship yet and he was fantasizing about skipping right over that.
The music swelled, signaling the start of the awards ceremony. Daniella moved toward him at the same moment he stepped forward to grasp her arm. They bumped hips and somehow, the button on his jacket caught her dress.
One of Daniella’s nipples popped free of the fabric, searing his vision and sending a surge straight to his groin. She gasped with a feminine squeal of humiliation, hands flying to her chest.
Instantly, Leo whirled her into a snug embrace, hiding her from view. And oh, dear God. His wife’s body aligned with his like flowing honey, clinging sweetly to every groove.
“No one saw,” he murmured into her hair and prayed she wouldn’t take offense to the obvious erection pushing into her abdomen. It wasn’t as though he could step away and compose himself.
The sight of that bare, rosy nipple was emblazoned on his brain and worse, both of her nipples pressed against his chest, raising the temperature in the stuffy ballroom about a hundred degrees.
“Are you all...arranged?” he asked hoarsely.
She was shaking. Or was that him?
“I can’t,” she whispered and her hand worked between their bodies, brushing his erection an ungodly number of times. “The button won’t come loose.”
He nearly groaned. “We’ll have to get to the hall. Somehow. Can you turn?”
“Yes. If you keep your arm around me.”
They did a fair impression of Siamese twins, shuffling as one toward the back of the ballroom, Daniella clutching Leo with one hand and her dress with the other. Which meant her hands were nowhere near his erection—and that was good. One more brush of those manicured nails against him would have produced fireworks better left unlit in public.
Miraculously, the crowd had thinned. The awards presenter droned from the next room. Leo was missing the ceremony but Dax would have to understand.
An eternity later, they reached the hall and Leo hustled Daniella into a deep alcove housing a giant sculpture of a mermaid.
“We’re totally hidden from view. It’s okay,” he said.
She took a half step backward, as far as their tangled clothes would allow.
“My definition of okay and yours must be different.” Head bent, she studiously fingered the threads holding his button hostage until they finally came apart. “I’m sorry, Leo. You must be mortified.”
Her head was still down, as if she didn’t want to look at him.
“Me?” He tipped her chin up with a loosely fisted hand. Her cheeks were on fire. “You’re the one who has a reason to be mortified. I can’t imagine how you must feel. First I force you to make nice to Jenna and then almost rip off your dress. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” she countered fiercely. “This dress doesn’t fit quite right. I shouldn’t have worn it.”
Five minutes ago, he’d have agreed. If she’d dressed a little more matronly, he might be having that conversation with John Hu right now. Except the alternative—being wedged into a secluded alcove with his wife—suddenly didn’t seem so terrible. “That dress fits you perfectly.”
She shook her head as she twisted the waistline back into place. “All my clothes have to be altered. I know that. But I didn’t have this one done. Stupid. I should have