Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (the beginning after the end novel read .TXT) 📗

the sultriness of the air becomes even more evident. He knows very well that I have a hard time accepting any financial gallantry, and after our coffee together, he’s clear about why. I still can’t believe I told him about my father. I usually avoid that topic with anybody except close family members.

Under the table, Nathan pats my leg just above the knee. “That’s a girl I like,” he whispers quietly so the others don’t hear.

His hand moves back so quickly that only the heat spreading through me confirms that he actually touched me. It’s a blessing I decided to wear trousers tonight, or I’d have melted into a puddle when he touched my bare skin.

Murphy, who’s been observing us with a smug smirk bends forward on his elbows. “So, Eva, is my brother’s behavior more to your liking?”

“He’s a perfect gentleman. I think we’ll be good friends.” I reply in a throaty voice, because my thoughts about Nathan right now are nowhere near the “friends” category.

“Friends?” Murphy almost sounds disapproving. He points at Nathan, who is breathing heavily beside me as if trying to keep his temper in check. “You know, my brother is actually way nicer than he sometimes allows others to see.”

Is Murphy playing matchmaker? Or does he want to tease Nathan?

Nathan obviously thinks it the latter. He tenses beside me, his legs pushing against mine as his muscles grow rigid.

I don’t think his brother meant it badly, but I still feel sorry that Nathan is put on the spot like this. The words tumble out of my mouth. “Well, I think Nathan is pretty awesome as he is.”

Nathan’s face illuminates and he points at Murphy. “You see, brother? You always give me too little credit.”

Murphy squints. “No. I trust your abilities. More than you think.”

I get the feeling they’re having a conversation on an entirely different level, as if they’re speaking to each other in some kind of code language.

Even Judy, who isn’t super perceptive about people’s emotional states, shakes her head. “Wow, I feel a wave of testosterone wafting toward me.” She fans herself with her hands. “But we’re here to have fun, aren’t we? Save your juices for the dance. Look, the band is just starting.” Judy claps her hands.

The familiar rhythms of the bongo fill the room. Many guests jump up and dash to the circular dance floor.

Judy drags on Murphy’s arm. “Come, it’s my favorite song.”

“Well, then, we ought to sway to it.” Murphy put his hands on her hips and they go to join the other dancers.

I can’t help it. My legs are already tapping the beats under the table.

Nathan gives me a weird look.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, his mouth moving into a smile. “I just realized we have one more thing in common.”

I peek down at his legs to check if he’s referring to a mutual passion for this song, but his feet are firmly pressed to the floor. I raise my head, my lips settling into a confused frown. “Not sure what you mean.”

Nathan points at me. “You’re a workaholic. Just like me. I wouldn’t have thought so, but the evidence is irrefutable. Your eagerness to rush over to the dancers is written on you face.”

He’s right of course. My body longs to go and follow the song’s beats.

“Why do you like this music so much?” he asks.

I don’t think anybody has ever asked me this question. I try to collect my thoughts because my love for salsa is such an elemental part of me like my left leg. Nobody can explain why they want a leg. They just do.

“Salsa is in my blood. My first memory of my mother is when she would hold me in her arms and dance with me. Music has been a part of my life ever since I can remember. There is this magical connection… Whenever I hear the beats, they command my cells… Yes, dancing is what I do for work, but it’s also my greatest pleasure.”

I wouldn’t feel offended if Nathan thought it’s weird to speak about my dancing with such passion. After all, what I do daily is nothing compared to the seriousness of his job. I’m not closing million-dollar deals or working my way to the top of a Fortune 500 company.

But Nathan listens to me with wide eyes as if he is drinking in every word I say. Slowly a dark shadow settles into his grey eyes. “The way you speak about your love for dancing is…” He inhales and lets out the air slowly. “…is inspiring. I always thought I worked so much because I loved my work. But this glint in your eyes when you speak about what you do…well, it makes me doubt whether I—”

He stops and rubs his neck.

“Didn’t you say you find the challenge of sealing deals thrilling?”

Nathan shrugs. “Yes. It’s exciting, but it’s not nearly as gratifying as what you’ve just described. I want this feeling you spoke about for myself.”

“Well, the trick is to let go.” I smile at him and cock my head toward the dance floor. “Over there, that’s exactly what you’ll do. Listen to the song, let it transport you, and just enjoy the moment.”

As I’m saying this, I realize this might be exactly why I enjoy dancing so much. It’s the only aspect in my life where I don’t need to worry about anything. Where the responsibilities I carry on my shoulders don’t weigh on me at all.

“Very intriguing. You’ve got me interested in…” His gaze dips to my lips and his voice trails off.

His expression changes, and the depth in his grey irises doesn’t promise anything good. Or rather, it promises too much of an overwhelming goodness….

If he bent a bit closer now, I’m not sure I’d have enough willpower to move back.

But he doesn’t. He lifts his glance to meet mine and says, “So am I getting a private lesson or what?” He stands and holds out his hand to me.

I put my palm