Page 20 of Mafioso's Muse

She shifted her weight again. ‘It’s his job to make decisions in the best interest of the company. It’s not personal. It’s honest.’

It reeked of being personal. There was clearly some other factor at play, because Willow had exactly what it took to succeed. ‘I could lift you with one hand.’

Her forehead creased, and the corners of her lips tugged upwards. ‘Said with an awful lot of confidence for a businessman with no dance training. At least that I’m aware of.’

He didn’t need dance experience to know that he would never let her fall.

Her eyes remained locked with his, and the doubt in them began to morph into curiosity. For one charged moment, neither of them spoke, and a strange energy settled between them.

‘Mr Gallo?—’

‘You can call me Vaughn.’

She nodded and looked around the studio. ‘One-handed you say?’

‘That’s what I said.’

The world outside the door seemed further away the longer the two of them stood there. Seconds ticked by. Time slowed down, allowing him to savour the unadulterated connection.

Willow was first to look away. Her hands went to her hips, and she turned in a circle before looking back at him. ‘Prove it.’

He barely had time to register her words before she ran towards him, calling his bluff. She was clearly waiting for him to hold up a hand, step out the way, or at the very least tell her tostop. But he didn’t do or say any of those things. When she was close, she launched herself into the air. The blind trust was concerning. It was reckless, but hedidcatch her—effortlessly.

With one hand.

His outside fingers wrapped her waist, the middle three cradling her lower ribs. He lifted her straight up and held her there. At first she looked a little taken aback, but then when she realised he wasn’t going to drop her, she stretched out her arms and legs like an eagle mid-flight. Smiling, she closed her eyes. He watched her face as she was suspended there, felt her relax into the pose.

When she eventually looked down at him again, her smile vanished. Something in his expression had unsettled her. He wasnotsmiling. She had forced him to cross a line he hadn’t been ready or willing to cross.

He had nevertouchedher.

Vaughn had been very deliberate in never shaking her hand or even standing too close. Distance was his best weapon against her. He could enjoy the warmth of the fire without being burned. But now he held the full weight of her in his hand, touching places he was never supposed to touch. His palm greedily siphoned heat from her body.

Reading his expression, Willow took hold of his arm and lowered her legs, the toes of her ballet shoes brushing his thigh as he brought her face closer to his. She smelled like green apple and watermelon.

She swallowed.

Every muscle in his arm was working as he held her there. Willow’s lips parted, barely, and that tiny movement had him returning her to the ground and taking a step back, putting some necessary distance between them. Her hands returned to her sides. The air in the room seemed thicker suddenly, that fruity scent suffocating him. Or maybe that was the guilt. After all, he had no right to touch her like that, to forget himself in her presence. She was never to be touched by a man like him.

‘I should go,’ he said, irritation in his voice.

‘Mr Gallo.’

He was already walking towards the door.

‘Vaughn.’

That stopped him in his tracks. The familiarity, whichhehad insisted on.

He looked back at her. ‘What?’ Her face fell at his sharp tone. That was the exact kind of thing he had been trying to avoid.

She took a brave step towards him. ‘What’s the matter?’

He looked her straight in the eye and said, ‘Don’t ever do that again.’

She shook her head, visibly confused. ‘Do what?’

‘Let me touch you.’ The words came out low, like a warning.