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The neckline of her dress slipped, revealing a healthy slice of breast. Surreptitiously, she fingered it back into place. The deep vee over her cleavage wasn’t terribly daring, but it was low-cut and the spaghetti straps were too long for her torso. Since the svelte salmon-colored dress had cost Elise seven hundred dollars, paying to have it altered felt like a sin.
It slipped down again as Leo steered her toward the far corner. As she walked, she lowered one shoulder, Quasimodo-style, hoping to nudge the neckline back where it belonged through a combination of shifting her balance and sheer will.
“Are you okay?” Leo whispered.
She should have worn the dress all day and practiced walking in it. Hindsight. Double-sided tape could have fixed the problem in a jiffy.
“Of course.” She pasted on a serene smile as they halted before a group of men and women Leo clearly knew. Nodding, she greeted people and used all her tricks to remember names. Constantly being fired from a variety of jobs had an upside—few situations or people intimidated her.
“And this is Jenna Crisp,” Leo concluded, indicating a gorgeous redhead on the arm of Leo’s friend Dax Wakefield, who was receiving the alumni award that evening. “Jenna, this is my wife, Daniella Reynolds.”
Dannie shook the woman’s hand but Jenna wasn’t looking at her. The redhead’s attention was on Leo. Hmm. Dannie glanced at him. He didn’t notice Jenna’s scrutiny. Too busy discussing a patent infringement case with Dax. “I’m happy to meet you, Jenna. Have you known Leo long?”
Jenna focused on Dannie, and her expression noticeably cooled. “Long enough. How did you two meet, again?”
The redhead’s tone oozed with challenge, as if there might be something tawdry to the story.
That was one area they’d definitely not covered. Did his friends know he’d gone to a matchmaker? She’d have to settle for a half-truth lest she embarrass Leo. “A mutual acquaintance introduced us.”
“Interesting.” The other woman nodded, sweeping long locks over her bare shoulders. She curled her lips in a semblance of a smile, which didn’t fool Dannie for a second. Jenna did not like her.
“That’s how Dax and I met, too. Leo introduced us.”
“Oh?” Leo—a matchmaker himself? That was interesting. “I’m sure he was happy to help his friends find each other.”
“You think so? Considering the fact that Leo and I were dating at the time, I wasn’t sure what to make of it.”
Oh, dear. No wonder the daggers in Jenna’s eyes were so sharp. Dannie groaned inwardly. The dinner reservations had just gotten a whole lot more complicated than whether the table would be big enough.
“I’m sorry. I can’t speak for Leo. If you’re curious about his motives, you’d best ask him. Champagne?” she offered brightly, intending to put some distance between herself and Leo’s ex-girlfriend. At least until she figured out how to navigate the bloody water full of sharks her husband had dropped her into.
“That would be lovely,” Jenna said just as brightly and took Leo’s arm to join in his conversation with Dax, physically blocking Dannie from the group.
In historical novels, they called that the cut direct. In real life, Dannie called it something else entirely, and if she said that many four-letter words out loud, Leo would have a heart attack.
Instead, she went to get Jenna and Leo a glass of champagne.
Really, she understood Jenna’s animosity. She’d be confused, too, if Leo had shuffled her off on a friend and then promptly married someone else. Dannie also had the superior position between them, a point Jenna likely hadn’t missed. At the end of the day, Dannie’s last name was Reynolds and Jenna’s wasn’t.
Now she wondered what had really happened between Jenna and Leo. It was a little uncivilized of Leo not to have warned her. Men. Didn’t he realize what he’d dragged Dannie into?
In reality, he probably hadn’t considered it a problem. And it wasn’t. Their marriage was an arrangement and her emotions weren’t Leo’s primary concern. That put a little steel in her spine. She had a job to do.
When she rejoined the group, Leo shot her a sidelong smile in gratitude for the glass of champagne. The flutters his very private grin set off were enough to forgive him. Almost.
A good wife might choose to forget the whole conversation. She bit her lip.
Then again, a good wife who paid attention to unspoken nuances might also ensure she didn’t mistakenly cause her husband embarrassment. Forewarned was forearmed, and if Leo expected her to chat up his associates, she should know exactly what that association was. Right?
“You used to date Jenna?” she murmured in his ear as Dax engaged his date in their own conversation.
“Briefly.” Leo’s gaze sought out the woman in question, his eyes narrowing and growing a tad frigid. “She told you? I’m surprised she’d be so tactless. And I apologize if I put you in an uncomfortable position.”
He’d leaned in, breath teasing along her cheek as he spoke, and she caught a whiff of something fresh and maybe a little wintry but definitely all male. His hip brushed hers. Heat pooled at the contact and spread, giving a whole new meaning to an uncomfortable position.
She waved off his apology. “Nothing I can’t handle. I’m sure you didn’t do it on purpose.”
He’d apologized instead of calling her out for sticking her nose in his business. That was a relief. Walking that line between being a complement to Leo and fading into the background was harder than she’d anticipated. Regardless, she was going to be a star wife. No compromise.
Leo frowned. “We only went out for a little while and obviously it didn’t work out, or I wouldn’t have introduced her to a friend. Jenna wanted more than I could give and Dax pays attention to her. It seemed perfect.”
Oh. Of course. Jenna was the reason Leo needed a wife who wouldn’t expect him 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 thought about the consequences. My job is to make you look good, not embarrass you in public. I’m sorry. I’m not making a very good first impression.”
That’s what she was worried about? That she’d messed up and displeased him? A weight settled onto his chest. Did she think he was that concerned about their agreement?
Obviously so.
“On the contrary, you’ve made a great impression. Exactly as I expected. I watched you with my business associates. They liked you.” She’d charmed them easily and he could already envision her doing the same at future events. Daniella was amazing, through and through.
“Really?” The disbelief in her voice settled that weight a little deeper. She seemed so disheartened by what was such a small blip in the evening.
Daniella was his wife, not a casual date he might or might not see again. The very act of making her his wife changed everything. He wanted her to be happy, which he hadn’t planned, could never have predicted. Not only did he want her to be happy, he’d discovered a healthy drive to care for her and ensure her security. He wanted her to know she could depend on him, always.
Problem being, of course, that his experience with serious relationships started and ended with the woman in front of him.
He nodded, scouting for a way to put a smile back on her face. “If nothing else, you can take solace in the fact that your wardrobe malfunction didn’t take place on national TV.”
She laughed, as he’d intended. The resurrection of his hard-on, he hadn’t. But who could blame him? Her laugh curled through him like fine wine and came coupled with the distinct memory of her beautiful breast.
The secluded alcove grew close and heavy with awareness as she locked on to his gaze. Her irises warmed. “Thank you for rescuing me. It was very chivalrous.”
The back of his neck heated at the adoration in her eyes. He felt like a fake. There wasn’t a romantic bone in his body. “I wouldn’t have abandoned you.”
“Your button.” Without breaking eye contact, she touched it with her fingertips. “It’s loose.”
“No problem.” He swallowed and his throat was on fire. Everything was on fire. “I have another one.”
Slim eyebrows arched as she cocked her head. Loose tendrils of dark brown hair fell against her cheeks and he barely resisted an urge to tuck them back for her. And as a treat for himself. The shiny, slightly wavy locks would be soft against his fingers.
“Should we rejoin the party?” she asked in an incredible show of courage. Not many people would walk back into a room where they’d performed a free peep show. His admiration for her swelled. “As long as I don’t move around too much, I should stay tucked away.”
His gaze dropped to her cleavage automatically. She was quite tucked away, but the promise of what he knew lay beneath the fabric teased him. How easily he could thumb down that dress and run the pads across those taut nipples. No effort required at all. No one could see them back here behind the sculpture.
He sucked in a hot breath.
“Leo,” she murmured and slid lithe fingers along his lapels, straightening them as she traveled south.
“Hmm?” She was so close he could see golden flecks in her eyes. Raw energy radiated from her, wrapping around him in a heated veil.
“The party?” Her lips met on the last syllable and he recalled how they’d sparked against his when he’d kissed her at their wedding ceremony.
This was like a first date, wasn’t it? He’d kissed women on dates, lots of times. It might even be considered expected. A major disappointment if he didn’t do it.
Would kissing her be as hot the second time? Hotter?
His curiosity would only be satisfied one way.
