Elie had accompanied his grief-stricken mother home rather than have her be alone after her husband’s death. Vittorio liked him more for that.
“You could have told all that to me, not my brother,” Emmanuelle pointed out. There was clear suspicion on her face, as if she believed Elie had been ordered to ask her to dance.
Elie’s cool dark eyes slid over her. “Your brother asked. You didn’t.” He turned on his heel and took a step away.
“Wait.” Emmanuelle had to take several steps to catch up. “I would love to dance with you. I should have said so immediately, but you surprised me.”
Elie turned back to her slowly, those dark eyes drifting over her. “You look beautiful. Like royalty. I don’t know why you’d be surprised that a man would want to dance with you.”
“You’re aware of the possible situation going on tonight?” Vittorio asked.
“Emilio apprised all of us of it. I’m on a break. I wouldn’t have asked her while I was working.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emmanuelle let out her breath. She visibly relaxed at Elie’s declaration. Vittorio tightened his fingers around Grace’s hand and indicated Elie and Emmanuelle precede him to the ballroom. The music had changed to a slower, dreamy number and the moment the three couples were on the floor, Vittorio swung Grace into his arms. He’d been aching to hold her.
“I’m supposed to be working,” she reminded, her voice muffled against his chest.
“You’re supposed to be making sure your man is happy, which, at this very minute, he is.” Vittorio brought her even closer, welding their bodies together so they flowed over the floor in perfect harmony.
If he could get lost when there was potential danger surrounding him, or anyone he loved, it would have been right there, in that moment. The music, the stars overhead, the fragrant turquoise flowers cascading on trellises from ceiling to floor, all added to the complete magic. He lifted his head for one moment to look around him at the other couples dancing. The event planners had created the perfect moment for everyone, giving them a chance to indulge in a romantic interlude with someone they were hoping to get to know better, or someone they loved.
Grace felt perfect up against him. Her body moved under the dress, a sensual flow that built a smoldering fire in the center of his groin and made for a lazy spread of heat through his veins. Her steps matched his flawlessly, but he didn’t want to break the spell woven around them to ask her if she’d ever taken dancing lessons. She’d learned somewhere.
He noted his sister talking with Elie as her partner kept her safe from anyone bumping into her. For the first time in a long while, Emmanuelle looked relaxed and, if not happy, definitely interested in whatever Elie had to say. That was a good thing. He wondered if he should suggest to Grace that Elie be seated at Emmanuelle’s table. He didn’t look the part of a bodyguard. He was tall and lithe rather than sinewy, but Demetrio would never have suggested he look for a job with Gallo Security unless he thought the man was capable of working at the level Emilio would demand. He must have been taught to be a rider, with his father a famous member of the Archambault family. They were renowned as riders.
Vittorio moved his hand down Grace’s back. His palm was hot against the thin material of her dress. He wanted to touch her skin so badly he could taste desire in his mouth. His cock pushed hard against her body, making it known how she affected him. She just seemed to melt into him, her body soft and flowing, surrendering to him, in just the way she did when she kissed him—or made love to him.
He whirled her around, so they were in the dark and his hand could slide over her tempting ass. He cupped her there and pressed her deeper into him. “You make me happy, Grace. It’s that simple. I’ve never felt like this before.”
She tilted her head to look up at him. “You make me very happy, too.”
A couple came close and Vittorio spun Grace away from them, looking down to see who had gotten so near when they didn’t need to. To his astonishment, Eloisa danced with a man who had worked for their family for years. Henry Watson had his arms around her, their steps absolutely in synch, as if they had been dancing together for years. He’d never seen his mother dance before. His father, Phillip, had danced at numerous charity functions, but never with his mother. Vittorio glanced at Taviano to see if he was witnessing what Vittorio considered a historic event. Grace and Katie had really created magic in order to lure Eloisa into a man’s arms for a spin around the dance floor.