A Deceptive Attraction: The Wilsons, Book 3 by Alicia Roberts

risk of twisting an ankle in her three and a half inch heels. She was relieved when Leon led her off the dance floor, dabbing at his temple with his handkerchief.
    A bald, florid man of about forty-five was sitting in Leon’s seat at their table. She noticed that Leon’s manner was stiff and cold as he introduced the man as Hugh Steffans, his partner.
    Hugh shook her hand and said, “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Wilson.” His hand was unpleasantly damp and sweaty, and he said her last name with an annoyingly familiar air, as if he already knew her family intimately.
    Violet was surprised that Leon would choose to associate with someone like Hugh, who was as rumpled and nervous as Leon was cool and smooth. She intended to ask Leon some questions about their business relationship as soon as she could, but she doubted he would give her a straight answer. He hadn’t bothered to so far, and tonight he had looked nervous ever since Hugh showed up. Nervousness was out of character for Leon.
    She shrugged it off. She was dressed up in after-five wear, and her date was the best looking man in the ballroom. She had been having fun and she intended to keep having fun.
    Hugh pulled up a chair and zeroed in on her. “So, Violet, has Leon told you that we’re stock traders?”
    “Yes,” Violet said. Sort of, she thought to herself.
    “I don’t suppose you have any interest in the market?”
    “Not really.”
    “That’s too bad,” Hugh said. “Everyone should play the market. It’s so easy now with discount brokerages and online trading. You really should try it, Violet.”
    He said her name with an annoying familiarity that reminded her of the time one of Tim’s friends had hit on her at a party while Tim was off talking to God knows who.
    Leon still hadn’t said a single word directly to Hugh. Violet glanced at his face. She couldn’t tell if Leon was angry, nervous, or both, but she took his facial expression as a cue and decided not to engage Hugh. Sooner or later he would get bored and leave them alone.
    Hugh noted Violet’s empty glass. “Leon, my man,” he said. “Your lady friend’s drink is in need of a refresher.” He nodded in the direction of the bar.
    Violet caught on immediately to what Hugh had in mind and shook her head at Leon. “I’m fine, really,” she said.
    Leon stayed in his seat and didn’t look at his partner.
    Beads of sweat had formed on Hugh’s shiny forehead. After several minutes of awkward silence at the table, Hugh rose and left without so much as saying, “excuse me.”
    Violet watched as the rotund little man stalked off into the crowd. Turning to Leon, she was about to ask him what that was all about.
    Leon interrupted before she could say anything. “Another dance, Violet?”
    “Sure,” Violet said without much enthusiasm. This was going to be another example of Leon’s inscrutability regarding information she had a right to know. It was getting old.
    The dance number was a tango. Violet put the unpleasant encounter with Hugh out of her mind and lost herself in the dramatic mock courtship of the dance steps. It was impossible to have a bad time as long as there was a dance floor and a good band.
    The band took a break. Back at their table, Leon excused himself. “I will only be gone a moment,” he said. Violet watched as he strode swiftly toward the men’s room, almost breaking into a trot at the end.
    Within seconds, Hugh had appeared out of nowhere and was standing next to the table.
    “Leon’s being bull-headed tonight,” the little man said. “Like I was saying, you really should get into the market. I just got a tip that Amixa Corp is about to take a huge crap. Call your family and share the happy news.”
    Violet’s eyes narrowed. She knew what insider trading was. “The only call I’m going to make about you is to the SEC.”
    Hugh smirked at her. “You’re a cute little package. I’d like to give you a jingle sometime after Leon goes back to France.