Master of Her Virtue - By Miranda Lee Page 0,17

also stayed standing a good foot and a half away from him, which made for an awkward lean to her upper body.

Sighing, Leo slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. Maybe too close, he was to realise a split second later as her full breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest. His male hormones stirred, as did something else. Stunningly so. Leo’s teeth clenched hard in his jaw as he struggled to control his wayward flesh. But it was a futile effort. Thank God her skirt had a lot of material in it or things could have been embarrassing.

Common sense still warned him to step away from her, to say he’d changed his mind about dancing. After all, he was no longer at an age when surging testosterone levels controlled his behaviour. Leo was often in the company of women far more beautiful and sexy than Violet, and he didn’t feel compelled to pursue them as he once had. These days, his brain ruled his sex life, not his body.

But, as the old saying went, the spirit can be willing but the flesh is weak.

Not that Leo’s flesh felt weak at that precise moment. It felt hard and strong and wickedly focused on the girl in his arms.

‘Link your hands more tightly around the back of my neck,’ he commanded her.

She did so and it brought their bodies even closer together.

Could she feel his erection through his suit jacket and her gathered skirt?

He doubted it, despite her eyes widening and her pale cheeks going a bright pink. Leo suspected this wasn’t embarrassment he was seeing in Violet’s flushed face and big, liquid eyes. This was the body language of sexual chemistry. Hers, not his.

Once again, common sense told him to look away; to pretend he hadn’t noticed anything. Because nothing good could come of their physical attraction for each other. She was way too young and way too innocent for the likes of him.

But that was a large part of her appeal, wasn’t it? Her youth. Her...freshness.

He would have no trouble seducing her; Leo was extremely confident in matters of the bedroom. But to do so would make him the kind of heartless womaniser his father had accused him of being. He could not, would not, do it. He already had one woman’s broken heart on his conscience. He wasn’t going to add Violet to the score.

But, by God, she was a wicked temptation. It was crazy of him to keep on holding her like this, so intoxicatingly, painfully close. But he could hardly stop now. She would think him rude.

‘Take two steps to your left,’ he instructed her brusquely. ‘Now two to your right. Try to match the beat of the music.’

She followed his instructions perfectly, her blind obedience appealing to that part of Leo’s nature which had always enjoyed the role of leader. At university he’d held positions of prestige and power. As a lawyer, he’d started his own small practice rather than work for someone else. He hated taking orders. But he loved giving them.

‘Very good,’ he said. ‘Now, you just repeat those four steps ad infinitum. Or till the music stops,’ he added, hoping like hell that that would be soon. Because, if it didn’t, he was going to be in trouble here. Big trouble. Maybe if they talked it would distract him from what was going on south of the border.

‘How about telling me that long story of yours?’ he asked.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘WHAT?’ VIOLET SAID, lifting somewhat dazed eyes to his.

‘You were going to tell me what happened to you in the past to turn you off men.’

Violet suppressed a groan.

The last thing she wanted to do at this moment was talk. She wanted just to keep on wallowing in the experience of dancing with Leo. She loved the feel of his arms around her; loved the way their bodies were pressed against each other; loved touching the soft skin at the nape of his neck. She could have stayed that way all night, moving slowly and silently to the beat of the music.

‘I...um...don’t think so, Leo,’ she said. ‘Sometimes the past is best left in the past.’

It made Violet shudder to think she had even contemplated telling him she’d once had a face covered in pimples and scars. Whatever had she been thinking?

His dark brows drew together above his quite beautiful blue eyes.

‘Sometimes,’ he said. ‘But not if it’s still affecting the present. And the future. I gather from Henry