THE CEO'S CONTRACT WIFE

chapter 10:THE WALTZ

The ballroom was a sea of black tuxedos and glittering designer gowns. Crystal chandeliers the size of small cars hung from the ceiling, casting a golden glow over the room.

But Elena didn't see any of it. All she saw was Julian.

He led her onto the center of the polished dance floor. The orchestra began to play a slow, sweeping waltz. The other guests stepped back, forming a circle, their eyes hungry for gossip.

"Do you know how to waltz?" Julian asked quietly, stepping into her personal space.

"I learned in high school drama class," Elena whispered, her throat dry. "But I might step on your seven-hundred-dollar shoes."

"They cost two thousand," Julian corrected, a ghost of a smirk appearing on his lips. "And don't worry. I won't let you fall. Just follow my lead."

He placed his right hand on her waist. His grip was firm, possessive, and warm. Elena rested her left hand on his shoulder and placed her right hand in his.

They began to move.

To Elena’s surprise, it was effortless. Julian moved with a natural grace that betrayed his aristocrat upbringing. He guided her through the steps, his body signaling where to go before she even had to think about it.

"Relax," he murmured, leaning down so his cheek brushed against her hair. "You are stiff as a board. Smile, Elena. We are in love, remember?"

Elena forced her shoulders to drop. She looked up at him. "Everyone is staring at us. It feels like they are waiting for me to trip."

"Let them stare," Julian said, his eyes locking onto hers. "Focus on me. Nothing else exists right now except you and me."

For a moment, the lie felt like the truth. The room blurred into a background of color and light. The only thing that was real was the heat of his hand on her waist and the intense grey of his eyes.

He spun her around, the red satin of her dress flaring out like a blooming rose.

"You look breathtaking tonight," he said. It sounded like a line from a script, but his voice was deeper than usual. "Red is definitely your color."

Elena felt a blush rise up her neck. "You clean up nicely too, Mr. Thorne."

Julian’s gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second, then snapped back up to her eyes. The air between them grew thick, charged with an electricity that had nothing to do with the contract.

He pulled her slightly closer. Her chest brushed against his tuxedo jacket.

"Elena," he whispered, his voice rough.

"Yes?"

"Don't look now," he said, the romantic tone vanishing instantly, replaced by cold business logic. "But at three o'clock, a man in a grey suit is watching us. That is Arthur Sterling. He is my biggest competitor. He wants to buy my company and strip it for parts."

Elena blinked, the spell broken. "The man with the cane?"

"Yes. He thinks my grandfather's death will leave the company vulnerable. He thinks I am weak." Julian spun her again, his grip tightening. "Smile at me. Laugh, as if I just told you a wonderful joke. Show him that I am winning."

Elena swallowed the disappointment she felt. It was all an act. Of course.

She threw her head back and let out a bright, fake laugh, caressing Julian’s shoulder affectionately. "Like that?"

"Perfect," Julian said, though his jaw was tight. "You are a natural liar, Mrs. Thorne."

The music swelled to a crescendo and then stopped.

Julian dipped her low, a dramatic finale that earned a round of polite applause from the crowd. He pulled her back up, their faces inches apart.

For a second, neither of them moved. Julian’s eyes searched hers, and for that brief moment, he looked like he wanted to kiss her for real.

Then, a slow clapping sound broke the moment.

"Bravo," a voice drawled. "Truly a touching performance."

Julian straightened up, his face hardening into a mask of stone. He turned toward the voice.

The man in the grey suit—Arthur Sterling—limped toward them, leaning on a silver-tipped cane. He had a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Julian," Sterling said smoothly. "And the mystery bride. I must say, I didn't think you had it in you to marry a commoner. It’s so... modern."

Julian stepped in front of Elena, shielding her.

"Careful, Arthur," Julian said, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "You are talking to my wife."