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Simon whirls me around and I finally catch a glimpse of Oliver in the far corner of the room, tinkering with the music system.
Suddenly, an upbeat tune starts playing in the background.
“Now, this is more like it,” Simon says, quickening his steps.
My lips curve into a smile as warmth floods my chest. I never thought I could enjoy music and dance like this again.
“Mind if I cut in?” A familiar voice speaks up when the tune dips down in volume and fades away.
Halting in my steps, I stare up at Oliver. He looks heart-achingly handsome in his dark suit. Locks of dark hair fall into his blue eyes, giving him a sexy bad-boy look.
His gaze bores into mine. My heart beats harder as his luscious lips curve into a mischievous grin. “It’s my turn now, Princess.”
“You want to dance with Simon?” I ask with a cheeky grin.
He barks a laugh, grabs my hand, and pulls me into his arms.
“Hey!” Simon shouts. “I wasn’t done.”
“Go take a hike,” Oliver says. “It’s my turn to dance with Rory.”
“We can dance together for the next song,” I say as Simon’s frown deepens.
He scoffs, continuing to glower at his brother.
“Come on, Rory,” says Oliver, tightening his hold on my wrist and dragging me to the middle of the dance floor. “Forget about him and dance with me, Babe.”
I let him lead me into the next dance. As the music turns faster, his moves get wilder. I dance carefully and have to duck a few times to avoid his giant fist coming at my face.
Several couples came onto the dance floor since he changed the music. Oliver ends up kicking and punching the people nearest to us in his enthusiasm.
Within minutes, no one dares to dance near us.
By the end of the song, I’m laughing uncontrollably at him.
“I need a break,” I say, wishing I was wearing sneakers. Dancing with Oliver is fun but my ankles are screaming. “My feet hurt.”
“Aww, baby.” Concern shines in his sapphire eyes.
Simon jogs toward us as another song starts playing. “What’s wrong?” he asks, looking at me.
“It’s nothing serious. I just need a break after that session with Oliver.”
“Is there a place where we can party in private?” Simon asks, his eyes shining with mischief.
Oliver seems to catch on quickly. “Somewhere we can dance a tango of our own,” he says, pressing a kiss to my neck.
A pleasurable shiver runs through me, making me giggle.
“Come on!” Grabbing his hand, I lead him out of the room. Simon follows us, keeping pace with me.
Walking into a deserted corridor, I open a small cabinet set against the wall.
“What’re you doing?” Oliver asks as I grab the key that’s hanging there.
“We’ll need this to open the kitchen. Come on.”
Leading them further down the hallway, I take them to the kitchen. Heather usually locks the doors when Dad throws his parties. She hates anyone messing with her set-up, so she lets the caterers use another room.
