CHAPTER SIXTY – THE TRUTH REVEALED
"I believe you owe me a dance, Miss O'Hara," he stated, not quite a question but not quite a demand either.
Scarlett's pulse lurched traitorously in her throat as she registered the intimate timbre of his voice, the smoldering heat of his stare. Mutely, she allowed him to pluck the champagne flute from her slack grip and deposit it on a passing waiter's tray.
Then his large, calloused palm was engulfing her own, the contact igniting sparks of awareness that danced across her hypersensitive skin. Scarlett could only nod wordlessly as Henry led her out amongst the other swaying couples on the dance floor.
His arm swept around her waist in one smooth, decisive motion, pulling her flush against the solid plane of his body. Scarlett's free hand came to rest almost automatically against the firm musculature of his chest, and oh...that was a mistake.
Up this close, surrounded by his body heat and the rich, masculine scent of his cologne, it was utterly intoxicating. She could feel the pow
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