Page 84 of Cruel Lies

And then he moves.

I don't know how to describe it except that the floor disappears for a second. He turns me out and spins me and pulls me back, and my feet just go where his hands tell them, and the green silk flares out around my legs, and the chandelier light spins over us, gold, erasing every flaw I ever thought existed. He dips me, one arm strong across my back, and I'm not scared for even a moment that he'll let me fall, because I know he won't. He wouldn't. He never will.

He brings me back up and I'm laughing out loud now, breathless, a hand pressed to his chest.

People are looking. I can feel it, the whole room orienting toward the two of us under the biggest light in the place. But for the first time in as long as I can remember, being looked at doesn't make me want to fold up small.

Because I know how I look. Not from a mirror—I don't have those anymore. Why would I even need one, when I haveRonan's eyes to look into? They tell me everything. They say I'm beautiful, in hues of blue and gray. They say I'm worthy. They say I'm enough on my own.

My ex said I was too fat to dance.

The billionaire just swept me off my feet in front of a ballroom full of people, and made it look like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

The song swells and Ronan pulls me in against him, chest to chest, and we just sway. His hand on my back is reassurance I can love without desperatelyneeding.My cheek is near his shoulder. I can feel his heartbeat, slow and even, a man who is never in a hurry because he already knows how everything ends.

"You're doing beautifully," he murmurs.

"You keep saying that word."

"I'm going to keep saying it until you believe it. It's in the terms, remember?"

I close my eyes and let myself have it. The music, the light, the warm, solid weight of him. A whole decade of being shamed into sitting down at weddings, and here I am on my feet, dancing, being held by a man who tells the truth at all costs.

I could stay right here. I really think I could. I would, too, if it weren't for?—

"Cali."

Ronan turns to stone.

I feel him turn us both, slow, so that I come around to face the sound.

Todd is standing at the edge of the dance floor. Close now, too close, his drink finally gone from his hand and an ugly tremor working in his jaw.

"Cali," he says again. "We need to talk."

23

CALI

At first, nobody moves.

Not a muscle.

Not a breath.

Not an inch.

Then Ronan lets go of me.

His hand slides off my waist as he steps forward, putting himself between me and Todd without seeming to hurry at all. It's the same trick he did with the woman who looked me up and down earlier, except now, the whole thing has a distinct air of violence hanging over it.

"Mr. Bradshaw," Ronan says.

Todd's eyes cut to him. "This isn't your business."

"It's my party." Ronan's voice is calm and low. It makes the hair on my arms stand up. "That makes it very much my business. Walk with me."

"I'm not going anywhere. I came here to talk to my wife."