The Billionaire's Second-Chance Bride(32)

“Oh, wait a minute,” Mariam said as she reached into her satin clutch purse and pulled out a handkerchief. She then moved closer to Lucy’s hemline near her bosom. “Oh there,” she said wiping something off, perhaps an imaginary stain.

Antonio held Mariam’s arm and gently pulled her back. “I believe you will be making an announcement soon,” Antonio said with an underlying chill.

Mariam flushed. “Yes, Antonio. I…I’ll be going then. Nice to meet you, Lucy.” Mariam made her way through the crowd.

“I apologize for my assistant or soon-to-be former assistant’s behavior,” Antonio murmured. “She’s apparently a little insecure at times.”

“Oh, no worries. Actually, I didn’t notice anything strange. She seems really helpful.”

Antonio could tell Lucy was embarrassed by her expression and redness of her cheeks. But her reaction brought a delightful warmth to him. Lucy. Had. Class!

She certainly knew how to brush off an embarrassing situation and let it slide off like water off a recently waxed car. Antonio was becoming more fascinated by Lucy each and every time he met her. He was always a good judge of character and the way a person reacted in a negative situation spoke more volume than the way he reacted in a positive one.

It wasn’t how you treat your friends that makes you a powerful person, it’s the way you treat your enemies—with compassion. That revealed a lot about a person’s heart.

Just then a ballad began to blaze through the speakers and many guests took to the center of the dance floor.

“May I have this dance?” Antonio asked Lucy.

Lucy hesitated. “I…I’ve never danced like…um…in this situation…in a formal…”

Antonio grinned. “Don’t worry,” he teased her, “we’re not doing the waltz. I’ll take the lead, just follow.”



Lucy’s heart thumped erratically. She was all thumbs or toes when it came to dancing, even slow dancing. Heck, she really didn’t think she would have to dance at the Diamond Ball. What if she tripped over her floor-length gown and ripped the seams off and had to have Mariam come rushing to the rescue with her needle and thread that was probably stashed away in her clutch purse?

Breathe deeply, Lucy. It’s only a dance.

But that wasn’t the only thing that was making her heartbeat thump hard in her throat.

Antonio Romero.

My God!

She was getting up close and personal with the most eligible bachelor at the ball! He asked her to dance. Her!

After fretting she heard the song playing. It was that beautiful ballad again, “Lost in Your Eyes,” by Debbie Gibson. What an uplifting love song. The melody was one of the prettiest she’d ever heard. If that sultry serenade couldn’t tame a beast, Lucy didn’t know what could.

Lucy’s body was heating up. She could not do this. How could she slow dance for the first time in her life with a hot, sought-after billionaire in the presence of hundreds of affluent guests? This was utterly insane. She was going to trip and fall and make a complete ass of herself. She didn’t slow dance but she dare not tell Antonio this.

Once in elementary school, a boy named Peter asked her to dance and she complied, only to accidentally step on his bad foot. Long story short, neither of them knew what they were doing. They both became the laughingstock of the school and Peter had to have an operation on his foot (though minor) later that week. Of course, she hadn’t known beforehand that he had a serious issue with his baby toe. Lucy felt so awful and hadn’t even bothered since. Besides, it wasn’t as if she went to her prom or had any invitations to go formal dancing since that time.

Antonio was different, of course.

This situation was a billion times different.

Antonio was hot and charming and really knew his way around women and social settings of high class.

Antonio looked Lucy over seductively and her nipples hardened under his touch of her hand as he guided her to the center of the dance floor. He was dripping with delicious charm and this man really oozed powerful sex. She could feel the sexual magnetism between them. She genuinely could and this was not her imagination at play. She could see it in his eyes. It reflected from his soul. She was lost in his dark, enchanting eyes.

Lucy found herself studying Antonio’s tall, muscular frame and his sexy profile. He was angelic in every way imaginable. Built like a Greek god.

He looked dazzling in his formal black attire and filled out nicely with his broad athletic shoulders and his height. God, he towered over her and yet she wore her six-inch heels.

Antonio wore a rich black single-breasted tuxedo dinner jacket with satin facing and neatly pressed matching trousers, a la sexy, dangerous James Bond. There wasn’t a crease in his attire. He was immaculate.