Wild Heart by Lori Brighton Page B

sweep her across the floor. He pulled her closer, yet she didn’t protest, didn’t even bother to open her eyes, but merely took in the feel of his form.
    “No, no!” Jean-Pierre’s voice broke into her muddled mind. Ella faltered, her lashes lifting. With a sigh, Leo stopped.
    Jean-Pierre made his way toward them, his shoes tapping against the floor. Reaching out, he dug his fingers into Ella’s shoulders. She couldn’t prevent the yelp that escaped her lips at his painful grip.
    Leo’s arm shot over her shoulder and grabbed Jean-Pierre by the collar. Suddenly, Ella was squeezed between the two men.
    “Unhand her,” Leo growled. The vibration in his voice sent a cold chill over her skin.
    Jean-Pierre immediately released his grip, and Ella fell into Leo’s tense body.
    “Touch her again, and you’ll find your fingers broken,” Leo said softly.
    Too softly.
    Ella gently touched his arm. “Leo.”
    Without looking at her, Leo released his hold on Jean-Pierre. The dance instructor stumbled back, gasping for air.
    “How…dare…you,” Jean-Pierre got out, straightening his waistcoat. “How dare you touch me? I teach the royal family!”
    With a rustle of paper, the woman behind the pianoforte gathered her sheet music and raced toward the door.
    Jean-Pierre tilted his chin. “I’d heard the rumors and should have known teaching a savage like you would prove to be impossible.”
    Before Ella could come to Leo’s defense, the dance instructor swept from the room.
    Doors slammed in the distance, and then there was silence.
    Truly, she should reprimand Leo. So why did gratitude sweep through her body, bringing on the sudden sting of tears? He’d come to her defense and been called a savage for the effort. “Thank you.”
    He didn’t respond and she had the feeling he hadn’t often been thanked.
    “Well,” she said, averting her gaze and stepping back from him. “No reason why we can’t practice on our own. Although, I fear you will teach me more than I will teach you. Still, your grandfather will be pleased to know how well you dance.”
    “You won’t tell him.” Leo pulled her close and swirled her around the room.
    Ella clung to the man. “Why not?”
    “Let him think he is helping me,” Leo replied, spinning her in a particularly dizzying twirl. There was something he wasn’t telling her…something more to his reasoning.
    “But, Leo—”
    “Shh,” he said, pulling her closer and whispering against her ear. “Just listen to the music.”
    “There is no mus—”
    “Shh,” he said again.
    With a sigh, Ella fell silent and closed her eyes, letting the man do as he wished. But as she began to relax, he slowed his steps and her lashes fluttered up.
    He brushed his thumb across her jaw and cradled the nap of her neck. “Why do you close your eyes?”
    Her face heated, and she dropped her gaze to the opening of his collar where a peek of tanned skin shone through. “It makes me feel free.”
    They stopped in the middle of the room. Ella clung to the man, feeling as if she still spun. Slowly, her gaze traveled up his chest and clashed with those eerie amber eyes. What was he thinking?
    “You are very different from what I expected,” he said.
    She wasn’t sure if that was a good or not. “Yes, well, I suppose most people are.”
    His gaze grew hard, serious. “No, sadly, most people are exactly as they portray themselves. Remember that, Ella: If you have a bad feeling about someone, it’s generally true.”
    “What about you? I feared you at first, but you proved me wrong. I do not fear you now,” she said.
    His eyes seemed to darken, and she could feel every muscle in his body tighten. “You should.”
    Before she could respond, his lips captured hers. She wanted to pull back, truly she did. Yet, she couldn’t seem to push him away. Instead, Ella sank into Leo, and his lips softened. Heat raced through her body, pooling in the pit of her stomach. She had the sudden urge to groan,