Free Seduced by Stratton (The English Brothers Book 4) by Katy Regnery

instantly pebbling through the flimsy material of her leotard, and she wondered if he could feel them through his T-shirt. When she looked up at him, his eyes had darkened almost to black, so her guess was yes.
    In spite of the warning voice that comes in the night . . .
    He stared at her so intensely she felt nervous, words suddenly tumbling from her mouth in a rush. “I can’t picture Barrett dancing.”
    “Really? Isn’t he the ‘The Undisputed Master of the Universe?’” he asked her, his features relaxing into an amused grin.
    Her eyes flew open. “How did you know we call him that?”
    “Daisy told Fitz.”
    “Traitor!”
    He chuckled. “Do you have a crush on my older brother, Valeria Campanile?”
    “No,” she answered honestly, staring up at him, letting her eyes say what her lips couldn’t: I have a crush on you , and it’s growing wildly every second you hold me in your arms.
    His brows furrowed, and his eyes suddenly hardened and stopped flirting. He turned her again, careful to keep the distance of the dancing pose when he spun her back into his arms, and to keep his eyes focused over her shoulder. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from his face, watching the tense clench of his jaw and tight purse of his lips. She stood between them— Stratton’s mystery woman. Valeria could feel her there between them and was surprised by the vehemence of her resentment.
    Don’t you know, little fool, you can never win . . . but I’ve got you under my skin.
    Her eyes burned with ridiculous tears as the song wound down, and when it finally ended, Stratton gave her a tight smile before letting her go.
    “I’ll wait for you outside,” he said softly.
    She tilted her chin up with the remaining shreds of her pride.
    “Fine.”
    ***
    As the door closed behind him, Stratton heard Valeria clapping and praising her students before turning off the music. He stood against the wall just outside the studio, closing his eyes in frustration and trying to ignore the fierce beating of his heart.
    He shouldn’t have danced with her.
    When Mr. Conway tried to cut in, he should have yelled “No!” and whirled Gladys away. Instead, now he knew what it felt like to hold Valeria in his arms, to feel her soft curves and rigid nipples flush against his chest, to watch her eyes soften as they stared back at him with yearning. And, damn it, he’d loved every second. Until he hadn’t. Until he’d thought of Amy—pictured her red, weepy eyes after a disastrous date with Étienne—and guilt had overcome him.
    Be stronger, Stratton!
    “Bad day?”
    Stratton opened his eyes to see a young, dark-haired man, about his age, coming up the stairs. He shook his head. “Nah. Just—”
    “Bet it’s about a girl,” the man said in a singsong voice, tilting back his baseball cap and letting his toolbox plunk to the floor at the top of the stairs. “Always about a girl when a man looks like you.”
    Stratton shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m all turned around.”
    “I get you. Take the girl in there.” The man gestured to the studio door with a flick of his chin. “I been sweet on her my whole life.”
    “Valeria?”
    “Yeah. You know her?” He answered his own question before Stratton could. “Sure you know her. You taking lessons with her?”
    “No.”
    “Here to pick up your granny?”
    “Uh, no.”
    The man’s eyes narrowed just a little, and some of the chatty warmth left his tone. “But you know Val?”
    “Yeah.”
    The man crossed his arms over his chest, darting a glance to Stratton’s as though assessing an opponent. “She the one that’s got you turned around?”
    The studio door opened, and a stream of older couples poured out into the small hallway, reaching for coats hung on hooks to the left of Stratton. The young, dark-haired man stood stock still despite the hubbub around them, staring at Stratton distastefully.
    “Thanks for the dance, handsome,” said Mrs. Conway, and Stratton turned from