Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (i read book txt) 📕

Chapter 18

(Nathan)

As Eva drags me to the dance floor, my heartbeat quickens.

My eyes are fixed on her back, my fingers interlaced with hers. She looks amazing in her tight black jeans and red tank top. The DJ switches on a throbbing light that reflects on her skin, making it glow with a soft shimmer. The color combination of her clothes reminds me of the first time I saw her on stage. The memory of how gracefully she danced fills my mind and increases my nervousness.

I can’t dance. And even if I know that the best way to gain someone’s trust is to find common ground about the things they like—I use this to my advantage at work as often as I can—the twitch in my gut tells me this time I went too far. I shouldn’t have asked Eva for a private lesson.

Was it truly a tactical way to get closer to her or did I get tangled up in a whim of the moment?

I’m not quite sure. I’d love to believe it was the first, but there’s a troublesome voice in the back of my mind which won’t let me accept my own lie. Eva’s passionate tone as she described how she feels when she dances still rings in my ear, its melody doing odd things to my insides. I wanted that sense of carelessness and abandonment for myself.

But as we advance on the crowded dance floor, I feel everything except careless.

A guy bumps into me, and I feel a sweaty palm on my back as he pats me and excuses himself before returning to his partner. The unexpected contact reminds me why I prefer to spend my evenings in my office instead of going out to clubs.

The air becomes more and more sultry as we weave among the numerous couples drifting with ease to the upbeat melody, a Cuban merengue-bachata fusion, according to Eva. Men and women are twirling and turning, with arms and legs flashing everywhere. We literally have to fight our way to find a quieter spot. Perhaps it’s only my impression, but almost every single person seems to stare at us as we pass by.

“Why is everybody looking at us like that?” I whisper into Eva’s neck, taking a secret pleasure from being able to lean close to her skin without appearing inappropriate.

She has the most delicious smell that’s like a safe shelter from the stench of body odor that escapes from the crowd around us.

She turns her head to me and winks. “They ogle us because of you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” She stops and raises herself to her tiptoes so only I can hear what she’s saying. “Well, you and Murphy really. It’s rare to see a new face around here. But your brother is already doing his best to blend in…”

She waves toward Judy and Murphy. They’re hugging each other tightly and shimmying like their limbs are glued together. I never realized Murphy had such a sense of rhythm. It makes me wonder if I’m the one who’s unaware of my brother’s true potential, and not the other way around. I often blame Murphy for seeing me two-dimensionally but perhaps I’m just the same.

Be it as it may, Murphy has set the bar high for me with his hidden dancing talent. Will Eva expect me to be just as smooth in my moves?

Though I try to put on a brave face, I’m truly out of my comfort zone. I feel almost as much of an idiot as the first time I convinced Mother to let me handle a crucial client for our company. And I have even less of a clue how to move to music, any music, as I had about negotiating contracts back then.

Eva leads me to the left corner of the room, the one farthest away from the band and thus slightly less noisy and jam-packed. She turns, and when her eyes fall on my tensed expression, she raises a brow. “What’s the matter? Changed your mind? If you want, we can go back to our table. I don’t mind.”

Her chin makes imperceptible tilts to the sound of the conga, and her hand, still enclosing my wrist, is swinging slightly as if she can’t wait to join the others around us. It’s pretty clear that she wouldn’t like to be sitting again, despite what she says.

After the initial hard time she gave me, it’s a treat to discover this softer side of her—one that’s ready to offer me a way out from my foolish suggestion. The fact that she perceives my jitters but doesn’t joke about it and is ready to renounce her own wish to put me at ease, makes me giddy. I’m not sure if it’s still in the physical range only, but I don’t care, because it fills me with a sense of aliveness that I’ve rarely experienced.

A sudden yearning to reciprocate her good faith fills me. I concentrate on the warmth emanating from her fingers to my skin. Would it be so terrible to try this dancing thing if it allows me to stay close to her bewitching body? Probably not. I could show Eva that I’m ready to put my usual self on the line for her, too.

I squeeze her hand. “No, let’s start with this lesson. Just don’t get your hopes up too high. I might be the worst student you’ve encountered.”

“Don’t worry.” She beams at me. “I’ll be patient. I’ll start by explaining the two basic steps, and we’ll practice just those, okay?”

I press my hands to my ears and arch my brows. I heard very well what she said, but I hope that if I pretend I didn’t, she might get closer and I can take another breath of her enticing scent without coming across a creeper.

Eva thwarts me by raising her finger. She points first to my eyes, then to her feet. She makes a step to the side