Page 13 of Just The Way You Aren’t (Last Billionaire Standing #1)

Despite his support up the steps to the front doors of the elegant venue, I teeter and totter and wobble.

He gives me an easy smile. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

I grip his jacket sleeve in desperation. “I’m sorry.”

Without a word, he peels my hand off him. I’m almost afraid he’s going to abandon me there, but then he squeezes my hand and puts his arm around me, holding me up against him. “Let’s try it this way, shall we?” he murmurs in my ear.

I think I might have goosebumps even on my polished toenails. I smile gratefully at him and let him support me as we make our way into the country club.

The prestigious club has been completely reserved for the Alzheimer’s Search for the Cure event tonight. Beautiful women of all ages move gracefully across the polished floors in dresses that belong on top designers’ fashion runways. They also don’t seem to have any trouble on their high heels.

I wish I could say the same for me. This is going to be a disaster. I’m going to embarrass Silver Hearts by falling over the podium, I just know it.

Damien tightens his arm around me. “We’re in this together,” he assures me. “I won’t let you fall.”

My heart beats double-time, but not because of fear. Well, at least not from fear of falling. Okay, not from fear of falling over on high heels. There’s a different kind of falling I need to be worried about. “Okay,” I whisper.

He smiles at me, then helps me move around the room.

The reception period is in full swing. The majority of people seem to have congregated in certain areas, near the bar or clustered around the sea of tables.

Others take their seats and tuck in for the evening, waiting for the event to begin.

Damien’s presence attracts a small crowd, and I’m more than happy to be by his side while he waves to people he knows and shakes hands.

They seem a bit startled when they see him, and I decide it has to be because he’s smiling the whole time. It’s not his usual nature.

My suspicions are confirmed when a glittering matriarch of some old-money family pats him on the lapel. “Goodness, Mr. Langley, I’ve never seen you so happy! Is it this little gem who has you in such a good mood?”

Damien’s smile falters, but I grin wide enough for both of us. “Damien’s been so lovely this evening. He’s been helping my organization so much. I hope you’ll stay for my talk about Silver Hearts.”

“Silver Hearts? Oh yes! I saw in the paper that Damien is volunteering there. You must be Willow Harper.” She leans in a little, taking in my appearance.

“My, you do clean up nicely. And so good with the press. Unlike this one.” She laughs and pats him on the lapel again.

“I’m eager to hear more about your organization. It sounds like a truly worthy cause.”

“Thank you. I hope I don’t disappoint.” I smile back. I look up at him and give him a nudge.

Damien recovers a tight smile that turns to something more genuine when he looks down at me. “Thank you, Mrs. Hollingsworth. It’s been lovely to talk to you this evening. We should?—”

“You should dance,” she says with authority, the jewels dripping from her ears clinking together with her vigorous nod. “You can’t bring a beautiful girl to an event like this and not dance with her. It wouldn’t be right.”

Damien lets out a surprised bark of laughter. “All right, Mrs. Hollingsworth. If you insist. ”

“I do.” She taps her cane on the floor and points in the direction of the dance floor. “Well, get to it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He guides me over to the dance floor.

I’m sure I’m going to flounder around like a frog in a blender on these heels, but Damien holds me close. I wrap my arms around his neck and, when I stop concentrating on my shoes making the right moves and actually look him in the eyes, I realize they’re smoldering again.

“I like this,” he says, his deep voice a low rasp. “You feel… good in my arms.”

I’m not sure how I’m not immediately rendered incapable of speech. “I… I think so, too. You. Your arms. Me in them.” I blush, wishing the dance floor would open up and swallow me. “Yeah. You know what I mean.”

He smirks. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

We dance without saying anything more. He doesn’t twirl me in circles, but he does make me look a lot more graceful than I am.

Damien’s feet lead with ease as he guides me from one end of the dance floor to another.

This is not the dancing I did in middle school or high school in my sneakers and denim skirt.

This is the sort of dancing they do in the movies, the kind a girl like me has long since accepted as just fiction.

But here, in this moment, I’m acutely aware of how real Damien is.

And right now, he’s all mine.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Willow. You can get tangled up in your feelings for him after you do what you came here to do. Raise awareness for Silver Hearts and get some of these rich people to write some big checks for the organization.

“You’ve gone somewhere,” Damien states as the third song in a row picks up. He shows no intention of leaving the dance floor and I try not to read into that too much. “Don’t overthink it tonight, Willow. Your speech is going to be great.”

“Yes. My speech.” I force a small smile. “How’d you know?”

His shoulder lifts in a slight shrug as we turn in a slow circle together. The faces of the onlooking crowd are blurry in my peripheral, blending with the hazy lights of chandeliers and candles. I could get lost here forever.

“You have that look in your eyes when you’re focused,” he says. “Trust me. You’ve got this. You have nothing to worry about.”

Sure, I do. But my main worry isn’t the speech.

It’s this moment eventually coming to an end.

I crave his touch and his presence, and every second feels achingly fleeting.

The way I feel in his arms, like I belong here and like he wants me here too, is unlocking something inside me that’s been simmering since we met.

If we just have a little more time together, I know it will catch fire.

But we aren’t given the luxury of more time.

A silver-haired man with a pleasant expression taps Damien on the shoulder. “Sorry to intrude, but it’s time, Ms. Harper.”

“Time?” I say, blinking my way out of my reverie.

The man grins. “For your talk. We would like all the speakers to join us on stage for the opening announcements and proceedings.”

I swallow and just barely manage to break eye contact with Damien. “I guess this is it.”

“I’ll walk you there,” he says. “Don’t worry. You’ve got this.”

As we make our way toward the front of the ballroom, he holds his arm lightly around my waist then escorts me up the few short steps to the stage.

Once he’s back down in the crowd, I find a seat on the stage next to the other speakers.

There aren’t many of us, only three, including the silver-haired man who is clearly the host of the evening.

He assumes his position at the podium to welcome everyone to the gala and thank them for coming before he moves through general housekeeping, laying out how the events of the evening will transpire, including meals and drinks, as well as the lineup of guest speakers.

Naturally, I’m last, which gives me ample time to fidget with my hands in my lap while my palms grow increasingly sweatier.

My name echoes in my ears and I realize I’ve just been invited up to the lectern. My heart hammers in my ears, each drum a reminder of the importance of this going well. With luck, I make it to the podium in my heels and never falter.

I clear my throat and look out at the crowd. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen…”

The words dry up on my tongue. I can hear my carefully crafted remarks in my head. I’ve gone over them a hundred times, memorizing every word. But I can’t say them now.

I stand there, feeling the awkward silence stretch out around me.

Movement in the sea of well-dressed important people catches my eye. My attention snaps toward it and I see that Damien has risen to his feet. My thundering pulse suddenly slows and my vision tunnels onto him as he looks at me across the huge room.