I walk off the stage, my heart pounding a hundred beats for every step I take.

Applause grows louder as I make my way over to Lance. An attendant stands in front of him with a clipboard, making note of the number on his ticket for payment details. He nods politely at her and quickly looks back at me.

He presents his arm and I take it.

“Congratulations to the lucky man!” the auctioneer calls out, though I can hardly hear it.

I’ve done this dance a dozen times with a dozen strangers or family friends or Robbie but my heart has never raced like this before. Maybe it’s just taboo. I know who this man is and what he wants and none of it is good for me but I still melt a little beneath his stare.

I lead him through the parted crowd to the dance floor. One little dance of tradition and the auction will continue on without interruption. Just a quick few minutes, swaying to music and trying not to let my heart accidentally crack a rib.

Lance takes my hand and lays the other on my hip as the music rises from the speakers behind us. “So, here’s what I don’t understand,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. “What the hell just happened?”

I breathe a quiet laugh. “You just bought a dance with me.”

“And why did I do that?”

I shrug a shoulder as we sway, counting steps in my head. “Because you care about less fortunate, sick children.”

“No. Well… yeah, I do, but… no,” he says. “I bought your dance to keep someone else from standing where I am. Didn’t I?”

“… Yes,” I answer.

“And if I had to make a wild guess — I’d say Mr. Donner is feeling a little disappointed right now.”

I turn my head, immediately drawn to Marcus’ ire in the crowd. He turns away as soon as we make eye contact and walks off into a shadowed corner.

“You’d guess correctly,” I say. “I didn’t want his grubby mitts on me. This is a nice dress and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Lance cocks his head. “Hmm...”

“What?” I ask.

“Well, if your family bodyguard has grubby mitts, then what exactly do I have?”

“Honestly...” I look down at his moving feet. “Very capable hands. You’re not missing a beat here.”

He laughs. “I’ve done my fair share of waltzes in my time.”

“I can see that.”

“And you are doing a wonderful job yourself, I must say. You did say you don’t lead.”

I smile. “I did, didn’t I?”

He nods. “You did. Hang on.”

I hold in a gasp as he raises his arm and effortlessly twirls me around. I land right back in his arms with laughter and butterflies in my gut while the rest of the room claps for us.

“Well done, Mr. Tyler,” I say, breathing out.

“I’m actually really happy that worked out,” he says as he looks into the smiling crowd. “I was kind of nervous about it.”

I chuckle hard, feeling my cheeks burn.

“Get it, girl!”

The crowd erupts in laughter and shouts.

Lance clears his throat. “And who was that?”

I shake my head. “That was my friend, Melanie,” I answer.

“Is she one of the brunch trio?” he asks.

I raise a suspicious brow. “You know an awful lot about me.”

He shrugs. “Part of the job.”

“Is it?”

“Could stand to know a lot more, though.”

“Well, you’ve got about thirty seconds left in this song,” I say. “Better make it quick.”

Lance glances around again and licks his lips. “We’re on the same side.”

“You’ve said that already. Still calling bullshit.”

“Listen, your father is going to prison. I can’t change that.”

“Oh, sure you could,” I seethe.

“But I can get him out sooner if you cooperate.”

“How?”

The song ends and the room erupts in loud applause again. I turn away from Lance, keeping a grip on his hand while I perform a bow to the crowd and a quick curtsy toward him. He takes a trained twist himself and bows to me.

“Come on, Miss Beatrix!” The auctioneer’s voice comes through the speakers again. “How about a kiss on the cheek, eh?”

I step closer to Lance, leaning in to give his cheek a quick peck.

Lance turns his head at the last moment and our lips press together.

I freeze in place as the sounds of voices and whistles fade off in my ears. Heat bounces from my head to my toes, igniting every nerve in my body as his mouth purses against mine. I feel his hand on my waist, drawing me just a little bit closer to him. I don’t even fight it. I stand still, ravaged from the inside out by a simple, little kiss.

We break away and I look up into his pleasant eyes as his open hand touches mine.

“I want more time,” he says.

I look down, feeling his touch as he places a one-hundred-dollar bill in my palm.

I clench it nervously. “South garden,” I whisper. “Ten minutes.”

Lance steps away. He smiles at the crowd again before giving me another respectful bow and walking backward off the dance floor.