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I don't know what the hell's gotten into me. This isn't like me. I usually don't go gaga over guys, and I certainly don't hold their gaze when they look at me or feel my heart hammering away inside my chest like a bird fluttering against a gilded cage.
When we pull up outside the theater all too soon, I feel a pang of disappointment. I don't want to leave him.
I look down to hide my eyes from him, but I jump when instead of the door automatically opening like it did for me to get into the vehicle, Simon gets out and opens the door for me himself this time.
He holds a hand out, and I feel tingles shoot up my arm when I take his hand and allow him to help me from the vehicle. I gasp and look up to find his eyes trained on me intently. Does he feel it too?
His throat works, and his jaw tightens. He does. He has to.
My heart flutters when he pulls me close to him and places a hand on the small of my back. My breath catches, and my hand naturally falls on the front of his broad chest.
I feel his heart pounding underneath my fingertips as I gaze up at him. If we were in a romantic movie, this is the moment when he would lean down and kiss me, taking my breath away.
But of course that doesn't happen.
Instead, he releases me and steps back, putting a respectful distance between us. “Good luck at your rehearsal today, princess.”
I feel my body melt when he calls me “princess.” I love the way it rolls off his tongue. I love the way his eyes roll over me as he says it as if they’re caressing every inch of my body. Every look from this man has me melting into a puddle of goo at his feet.
I bite my lip and hesitate. “What are you going to do?”
“Wait here for you,” he answers immediately.
I chew my bottom lip nervously. His eyes flick down to my lips and darken. He licks his own lips, and I feel moisture pool between my thighs.
My cheeks heat in embarrassment, and his nostrils flare as if he knows why I'm blushing. God, surely, he can't know, though, right? He can't smell it or something.
I suck in a deep breath and ask him before I chicken out, “Do you want to come?”
He turns those chocolate eyes on me, and they go even darker.
I feel my face burn hotter as I realize I didn't complete my sentence. “Come inside, I mean,” I stammer.
His mouth twitches with a suppressed smile, and I internally curse myself.
“Do you want to come inside the theater?” I finally get my complete sentence out.
“And watch the rehearsal,” I clarify.
Simon’s eyes are still twinkling with mirth as he gives me a nod. His voice is like velvet when he croons, “I’d love nothing more than that, princess.”
My heart flutters in my chest as we walk into the theater together. He keeps his hand on the small of my back, and I’m aware that we look more like a couple than a girl and her chauffeur.
I don't know why I'm so reluctant to be away from Simon, but when we get backstage, I hesitate again and glance at him uncertainly before he urges me, “Go do what you got to do, princess. I'll be waiting right there for you.” He nods over to the seats in the auditorium before giving me a reassuring smile.
I smile back at him and then float into the dressing room to change into my leotard.
I don't know why, but I feel completely safe and happy with Simon watching me.
Maybe having my own personal chauffeur won't be so bad.
CHAPTERFIVE
Simon
WatchingBella dance takes my breath away. It's not just the way her body stretches and spins and twirls—although that's enough to drive any man insane.
I feel a hot surge of jealousy when I imagine all of the men in the audience watching her perform. It makes me want to haul her back to my place, lock her up, and throw away the key.
