Her Billionaire Betrayal (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 3)

by Danni Lee Nicholls

  Cara gave a little frown at the sound. “Well, I should get those kids started.” She turned to leave but stopped. “Oh, before I forget, we’re having a field trip where we take the kids dancing at Gypsy’s Public House. We want them to learn that dancing isn’t just about preparing for a show, but that it’s also social and fun. It’ll be in three weeks on Friday night at seven. All the parents are going, and if Cole’s well enough, he’ll be there, too. I hope you’ll join us.”

  Indigo hesitated. “Oh … I don’t know. I don’t dance, and …”

  “You’re a part of our troupe, so it won’t be the same without you,” Cara said. “Please say you’ll come with us.”

  Indigo’s earlier longing to dance marched forward and tangoed with Cara’s encouragement, but thoughts of Sam muted her desire. The battle rose up, swift and demanding. If she went dancing, was she being untrue to Sam or his memory? Maybe. Or maybe not. Perhaps her job was to strike that perfect balance between remembering and loving Sam and enjoying her present days. After all, wouldn’t Sam tell her to go dancing? This field trip might be a good way to discover that space and expand on it, as Kelsey had said. Dancing with friends could offer her that sweet touch and affection without any deeper commitment.

  Cole. He was a fine man, but he wasn’t her man. Sam was her man. If she could just remember that throughout the evening of dancing, everything would be fine. And with Pamela there to constantly remind her of Cole’s commitment to her and Isabella, whatever it might be, it probably wouldn’t be hard.

  “Okay.” She smiled. “I’d love to go. It’ll be fun to watch the kids. How about if I meet you there? Can I bring a friend?”

  Cara’s face brightened. “Please, do!” With a quick grin, Cara disappeared from the curtained space.

  After Cara retreated, Indigo checked everything to make sure her space was clean and organized before leaving. Skirting the edge of the dance floor, she moved toward the door. She gave one last look over her shoulder as she pulled on the iron latch. Pamela stared at her with a cold gleam in her eyes while the other parents engaged in conversation or watched their children.

  Pamela’s earlier laughter rang hollow in Indigo’s ears as winter blasted her from the open entrance of the studio. Turning away from Pamela, she stepped out into the chilly afternoon, closing the door behind her as another frosty blast smacked her in the face. Still, nothing ran as cold as Pam’s frigid look.

  Inwardly, Indigo rolled her eyes. Maybe she’d just flirt with Cole during the field trip to watch Pam throw her dirty looks. Or perhaps someone would catch the woman’s secretive war against her. It might be nice to have someone else recognize Pamela’s ludicrous behavior.

  Walking to the car, Indigo thought better of flirting with Cole. Already, she was walking on the edge of the unknown when it came to him, and she didn’t want to appear as if she was competing with Pamela. The thought made her shudder. Besides, flirting wasn’t her best look, and she didn’t want to lead either of them along some pathway that could only reach a dead end.

  Chapter Ten

  Two weeks later, Indigo stood amid a froth of green Lycra and chiffon with pins sticking out of the cushion on her wrist and a measuring tape in her hand. Each of the costume bodices were basted. Carefully, she pulled one of the costumes over the dress form before standing back and squinting at the results. The Lycra lay smooth and flat against the contours.

  She took a deep, satisfied breath. Indigo loved the art of taking bolts of fabric and turning them into something beautiful, or taking a wedding dress and creating a fit that was tailored to the bride. And she loved working in the studio.

  She was surprised at how much she enjoyed and almost craved the energy in the building. Sometimes, when she was finished with her sewing, she would sit on the bleachers and watch various dancers work through their lessons. Most of them were children studying everything from ballet to jazz. But occasionally a couple would come, either visitors looking for a unique experience in Eureka Springs or locals who were interested in trying something new.

  Sometimes, Cara and Phillip danced just for the joy of it. Both of them were well versed in many styles, including Indigo’s favorites: the salsa followed by the tango. For the last two weeks, she’d watched them when the studio was quiet. Somehow, Indigo knew they would dance even if she wasn’t there. It was movement and affection for the wonder of motion and touch.

  Indigo felt a pull toward the warm hardwood floor and the couple who could read each other like the familiar lovers they were. Everything about their chosen dances and their style pointed to a deeper connection Indigo yearned for. She relished those moments, as if watching their intimacy formed a little space within her for the idea to flourish, creating a blush of happiness.

  Bringing her attention back to the work in front of her, Indigo focused on the basted costume pulled over the dress form. Snatches of Phillip’s and Cara’s conversation rode to her through the empty room until they left the studio, leaving everything quiet except for the hum of the old radiator heater.

  Quickly, Indigo flipped over the fabric of the basted costume that hugged the contoured bodice before her and checked the name she had sewn into the costume. Earlier, she had stitched the name of each girl into her dress so there wouldn’t be any confusion. This one belonged to Isabella. When the kids came in later in the afternoon, two girls would be able to try on the bodices for the first time, and Isabella was one of them. Excitement pulsed through Indigo. She loved watching the costumes take shape. The girls would be thrilled with the progress.

  The creaking of the studio door startled Indigo. Good. Maybe one of the girls had arrived and she could do a fitting before rehearsal. Drawing back the curtain, she blinked in surprise when Cole stood there, dressed in jeans, a blue flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and a cozy gray cashmere scarf wrapped around his neck. His curly black hair fell forward, bringing her attention to his dark chocolate eyes. Heaven help her. It was good to see him.

  Sliding the curtain open, she drank in his presence before tamping down the desire to rush to him and throw her arms around him in a warm embrace. “Oh! I thought you were one of the kids,” she murmured, her heart beating up into her throat and cutting off her words. In spite of her best efforts to keep her feelings under wraps, she wanted to take in every detail of his being.

  “The students aren’t due for another hour or so.”

  “Ahhh.” She blushed, her words running dry. “I guess I’ve lost track of time.”

  Cole peered behind her. “Is that one of the costumes?”

  “Yeah. Want to take a look?”

  Nodding, he moved toward her.

  As Cole came to stand beside her, Indigo reached out to the dress form to steady herself. His woody scent of sharp juniper and cedar reminded her of their shared moment by Little Sugar Creek. “Seen any blue herons?” The words popped out before her brain could snatch them.

  Cole flashed her a grin. “Not lately. I’ve been too sick to venture out. Did Cara tell you?” His concerned look bolstered Indigo.

  “Yes. She said you had bronchitis. I can still hear it in your voice.” Indigo touched her own throat. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m much better, thank you. And my birding wasn’t completely lost. I’ve been able to see some cardinals hanging around the house.”

  Delight swung through Indigo at both the idea of having cardinals come for a visit on a back porch and the easy sincerity of Cole’s company. “I’d never seen cardinals until I moved here,” she said. “Or fireflies, for that matter. I love fireflies.”

  “But you hate ticks,” Cole teased.

  “Yeah. Some bugs are just hateful. I’m glad the repellant worked.”

  “Told ya. It’s good stuff.”

  “And my roommate loved the smell.” Indigo resisted the urge to breathe in Cole’s masculine scent as he stood beside her. Instead, she began fussing with the dress by smoothing the fabric over the bodice. “I know it doesn’t
look like much, but it’s the beginning.”

  “I love the color,” Cole replied. “The swatch didn’t do it justice. Seeing it as the beginnings of a costume, I can start to take in your vision.”

  Indigo warmed under Cole’s words. She pulled out a bolt of stretching lace. “I had to have this dyed to match, but as you can see, it’s a perfect complement. It’ll fit over the bodice giving the costume both texture and a more interesting look.” She pulled the lacy fabric over the bodice on the dress form. “See?”

  “Yeah. I agree. It does make the dress more interesting. Good choice.”

  “I thought about using sequins, but I didn’t want a lot of flashy stuff. After all, they’re just girls, and I felt sequins might be too much.” Indigo bit her tongue. What was it about Cole Demetrius that made her spill her every thought? She put the bolt of lace down. “Oh, and I have your receipts.” Her arm brushed against Cole, and a tickle of heat raced through her as she reached for the folder before handing it to him. “These are just copies.” She tried to dismiss the brief sensation of his skin against hers, but the warmth of him ran through her veins. She kept talking. It was the better alternative to feeling. “I hope that’s okay. I want to keep the originals until the project is finished. That way, nothing gets lost.”

  Cole gave her a teasing smile. “You don’t trust me to keep the receipts?”

  “Let’s just say it’s easy for things to get lost in transport. This way, there won’t be any disputes between us.”

  “That would be a shame.” Cole’s voice lowered into a personal tone. “Especially since I’d like to trust you with something that matters to me.”

  Indigo’s breath caught in her throat. “Yes?” She wanted to give into Cole’s dark chocolate eyes and what was becoming his comfortable familiarity. Cole’s fresh and easy intimacy invited her into another world, his world. But the usual pull of guilt overshadowed everything that came with their budding relationship. She lowered her gaze from his to hide her confusion and blushing cheeks.

  Cole was silent for a moment, as if deciding something important. “You know how much all of this means to me, right? Phillip’s and Cara’s work. These kids.”

  Indigo nodded.

  Cole moved closer. She expected him to take her hands, but he stayed separate, creating a yearning within Indigo that pounded with each beat of her heart.

  He continued, “I want to do more. Eureka Springs offers so much when it comes to the arts, but many of the families don’t have the money to pay tourists’ prices for classes and things. I’ll be starting a trust for the kids so they can explore the arts. It’ll begin with Cara’s and Phillip’s studio as a trial, but I’ll move into canvas and sculpting work and writing.” He paused. “Only Cara and Phillip know. And now you.” A deeply held passion shone in his eyes, sweeping Indigo up into his dream. All thoughts of Sam diminished.

  She drank in Cole’s ideas as her curiosity and enthusiasm piqued. In the telling of his aspirations and work that held such personal significance, he was sharing a part of himself and drawing her closer to him through a willingness to unveil something of meaning. “That’s an exciting endeavor.” She loved Cole’s plan, and a small seed of desire to be a part of it sprouted. She stepped toward him, closing the space so they lightly touched. “Maybe I can help—”

  A rustling of the curtains interrupted their conversation, and Indigo stepped away from Cole.

  “Ahh, Cole. I’m so glad you’re here,” Cara said. “We’ve got about an hour to make up your lesson, if you’re up to it. Are you feeling better?”

  Indigo blinked at the other woman. She hadn’t heard Cara enter the building.

  Cole nodded. “That bronchitis was a nasty bug, but I’m on the mend.”

  Cara smiled, her face warm with friendly affection as she turned toward Indigo. “That is good news, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.” Indigo returned her smile, noting the way Cara included her.

  Cara held out her hand toward Cole. “Care to dance?”

  “I’d love to.” He moved toward the dance floor, leaving Indigo feeling drab and colorless. She shivered a little with the absence of his warmth. Her earlier desire to be in his arms rose with some delicate unnamed hope. She pushed it down. Instead, she tried to picture Sam, but the vision was fuzzy.

  “How about if we include Indigo in our lesson?” Cole suggested.

  Cara’s smile turned into a grin. “That’s a great idea.”

  Turning to Indigo, Cole held out his hand just as Cara had done to him. “Care to dance?”

  Indigo’s heart slammed against her ribs. Had he read her mind? A small surprising niggling of protest rose as a vision of Sam crystalized. She could see his laughing eyes, his smile and perfect white teeth parting his reddish-brown beard. He offered neither permission nor discouragement. She hesitated, her hand halfway to Cole’s, and her voice caught in her throat.

  The vision of Sam faded as the longing to dance overrode her. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’d love to.” Tentatively, she touched Cole’s outstretched fingers, the feeling of his hand against hers invigorating as she stepped onto the dance floor.

  Cole continued to keep her hand nestled in his as she stood in front of him, but the stirring charge dissipated, replaced with vulnerable exposure. She didn’t know how to dance, and it would be apparent with the first step she took. She was going to look like a complete idiot. Was it too late to bow out? Her mouth went dry as her brain went blank. There was no easy way to extricate herself from the situation, but just as importantly, she didn’t want to. She’d just have to do her best and enjoy this moment, because after Cole realized her total lack of coordination, it would probably never happen again. “What now?” she asked.

  Cara couldn’t stop grinning. “We start with what’s called the closed hold. Right, Cole?”

  Cole nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave Indigo until Cara began positioning them together, with Indigo slightly to Cole’s right. Cole reached for Indigo’s right hand with his left. Indigo focused on Cara so as not to think about Cole’s warmth that floated toward her, creating the desire to lean in. She stiffened in resistance to what Cole offered as Cara positioned their joined hands away from their bodies at Indigo’s eye level. The dance instructor moved around them and raised Indigo’s right hand to Cole’s arm, just below the shoulder.

  Indigo gasped as Cole’s arm came up to meet and then support her arm, the warmth of his touch pulsing through her with each beat of her heart while creating a small space that only the two of them shared.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I need to feel the weight of your arm in order to create a dancer’s connection.”

  Indigo held her breath. Connection. It was the very thing she witnessed between Cara and Phillip, and Cole was offering it to her.

  “You need to relax a little, dear,” Cara said gently. “Can you breathe for me?”

  Breathe? How could she breathe? She hadn’t been held by a man in eighteen months, longer if you considered Sam’s cancer diagnosis and how their romantic cuddling had turned into caregiving necessities.

  Sam! Oh, Sam. I shouldn’t be here. Conflicted tears rose up, but she choked them down. Every part of her was screaming for her to stay within the closed intimacy offered by Cole, while guilt whispered for her to run.

  Cara’s voice softened. “Let’s try again.” Cara stood beside her, offering her a steady presence. “Lower your shoulders.” Her voice was barely above a murmur, but it soothed Indigo’s embarrassed worry and inner strife.

  The silence of the room along with Cole’s warm masculine company and Cara’s easy proximity seeped into Indigo, allowing her body to calm. “Now, without raising your shoulders, take a nice slow inhalation. Hold for three seconds before letting it go into an easy exhalation.”

  Indigo followed Cara’s instructions, creating a gentle release of guilt and confusion, helping her breathe easier as tension worked its way out of her body.

  “Ahh, good.�
�� Cara’s voice offered the same easy tone while Cole held his posture, the intimate space between them intact. Indigo glanced at him. His eyes were warm with patience.

  “Is this your first time dancing since your husband died?” he asked, his voice taking on that soft tone.

  Indigo swallowed the lump in her throat. There was so much she wanted to explain: her old feelings for Sam, the clash of her inability to dance along with her new desire to move with Cole, and maybe even love again. But she couldn’t find the words. Instead, with Cara’s support and the breath work, her head cleared, giving in to warm gratitude that spilled through her toward Cole for helping her work through her conflicting and tangled feelings. She nodded.

  “Okay, dear. Are you ready to think about moving?” Cara asked.

  Indigo nodded again.

  “We’re going to start with a simple box step. It’s something you’d use for a waltz. Cole’s been practicing this step for the last few months.” Cara stepped behind Indigo and offered instructions while moving with her to help her body yield. For several minutes, they worked together with Cara behind Indigo, her hands on Indigo’s hips, encouraging her to move by following Cole’s lead.

  With practiced steps, Cole gently pushed forward on his left foot, dipping slightly before moving to the side with his right and rising to his toes. The invitation from the pressure in his hands encouraged Indigo to follow by sliding back with her right foot with a slight dip before siding to the left, rising on the balls of her feet, and closing the right foot to the left. For several minutes, they did their best to glide across the room. Thoughts of Sam retreated as Indigo focused on the dance and her sneakers, which refused to glide. Still, it wasn’t hard to follow Cole as he gently pressed against her body with his hands or moved into her with each graceful footfall, the pull of him escorting her closer with each step. She did her best to follow his lead. With every move and dip, Indigo’s awareness of Cole grew: the heat of his hand on her shoulder, the feel of his arm supporting her, and the way he moved close, creating a radiant incandescence that transported her away from every sorrow she could remember.