A Deal for the Di Sione Ring (The Billionaire's Legacy 7)

He knew exactly what it was she was afraid of and it wasn’t the dancing! She tossed her hair over her shoulder in what she hoped was a nonchalant gesture. “I am sure you are very smooth. Part of your lady-killer image.”

An openly amused look crossed his face. “Lady-killer? Where did you get that from? An old movie?”

She ignored him and picked up the dress. The Asian-inspired design was done in a deep buttercream color with the most exquisite beadwork and embroidery she’d ever seen.

“Go put it on before the champagne comes,” said Nate.

She did, if only to distract herself. The dress might have encompassed plenty of material, but it was snug, molded to her body in a perfect fit that emphasized all her curves. The only nod toward daring was the low back that left much of her skin bare.

That Mingmei clearly had a perfect eye for style didn’t surprise her in the least. Slipping on the sparkly stilettos, which fit perfectly, she returned to the salon. Nate had taken his jacket off, elegant and minimalistic in a silver-gray shirt and black trousers that molded his muscular body to perfection. His inescapable virility in the suddenly very small space rolled over her in a heady wave of awareness.

His gaze ate her up in a frank appraisal that made her lungs tight. “I should have left my jacket and tie on. In the face of such perfection...”

The breath whished from her lungs. “You’re far more relaxed when you’re not in a suit and tie.”

“I’m not sure relaxed is the state of mind I should be aiming for right now.”

Her stomach plummeted. “This...talk,” she pointed out weakly, “is not helping the situation.”

His mouth curved. “I think being self-aware is not a bad thing at the moment.”

A discreet cough alerted her to the fact that they were not alone. Turning, she found a black-coated waiter at her elbow, holding a white cloth–wrapped champagne bottle and glasses. Apparently they had their own personal waiter for the evening, a fact that eased her nerves considerably. A chaperone was exactly what she and Nate needed.

The waiter filled

their glasses, returned the bottle to the ice bucket and stepped back to stand unobtrusively by the door. Nate set a hand to the small of her back and guided her out onto the terrace with its spectacular views of Victoria Harbor, Hong Kong Island and Kowloon. The press of his strong fingers against the bare skin of her back sent a tremor reverberating through her.

Dannazione. She needed to get a handle on herself.

She focused on the view in front of her. Found herself transfixed by the light exploding over the city. Laser beams and searchlights in a rainbow of hues shot off the tops of the buildings, casting rays of light into the inky sky and harbor. Fireworks dazzled the eye, timed to music she could just make out from this distance. It was a choreographed spectacle the likes of which she’d never seen.

“Fantastico,” she breathed. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s called the Symphony of Lights. It happens every night. It’s meant to celebrate the energy and diversity of Hong Kong.”

Mina watched, transfixed. Thought about how spectacular, how foreign, it was. She might have been a whole planet away from her home rather than just on another continent.

It struck her then how much her life had changed in two weeks. How exhilarating, terrifying and irrevocable those changes were.

“That’s a contemplative look.” Nate rested his elbows on the railing and looked over at her.

“This,” she said, waving her hand at the view, “feels bittersweet. I wanted it so badly—my freedom. The chance to make my mark. But I also feel...torn. Homesick.” She sighed. “How silly is that? For a mother who barely tolerates me...a life that made me miserable.”

“It’s what you know,” he said quietly. “Walking into the unknown, even though you know it’s the right path, is scary. Sometimes you want to retreat. To stay with the known even though it makes you unhappy.”

“Did you feel like that once?”

“More than once.” His mouth curved. “I’ve taken a lot of risks in my life. You don’t achieve success without them. But that doesn’t mean I’ve never been afraid—afraid of making the wrong call, afraid the magic will disappear someday just like it appeared. It’s human to be afraid. It’s what you do with the fear that defines a person.”

She found that thought vastly comforting. That Nate, as successful as he was, had once not been so completely sure of himself.

She took a sip of her champagne. Watched another round of fireworks light up the sky. “I used to lie in bed at school at night after my father died, so scared of the future, of what would happen to me. I’d wonder why God had taken him and not my mother. I used to secretly wish that he had, then be terrified he’d punish me for thinking such awful thoughts.”

“I would say that’s understandable thinking coming from an eight-year-old.”

“Perhaps.” She lifted a shoulder. “To me they seemed wicked and irredeemable thoughts. So I made up a pretend family instead to keep me company. I had five brothers and sisters so I’d never be lonely, a dog named Gigi, who slept on the end of my bed, and parents who came to get me for every holiday.”

He frowned. “Your mother left you alone for some of them?”