Chapter 151 Chapter 152

Chapter 151 Chapter 152
It might have been a trick of the light, but Denis could have sworn he saw sweat bead on Wood’s upper lip. 
“New bid.” Wood’s voice had an audible tremble in it. “One hundred million pounds.”
Silence settled in the room, a faint whooshing going through the hall, like the ghost of a wind. Everybody held their breath. Even Ravi seemed to twitch at hearing the number, his smile faltering for a split second. Then it came back, all the bigger. A two-dimpled kind of smile.
He was beautiful.
“Placed by Lord Arnold,” Wood finished, still looking faint.
Ravi’s smile dropped at that. His head cocked to the side as his green eyes swept over the onlookers. He was still assured, feet placed firmly on the stage. When he saw Denis in the crowd, he blinked, those emerald eyes scorching the blonde’s insides raw. 
It lasted but a second, his eyes quickly moving on, the absence of their beam leaving Denis sagging in his seat. The rugby lad, Scotland's national team captain, returned to peer at Wood and Coote.
Both men glanced down at the screen in front of them, as if waiting for someone to dare bid higher. The seconds drag into a small eternity, the room yet to make a sound. 
Wood smiled faintly. “Three, two, one. And a date with Ravi Baldwin goes to Lord Arnold for one hundred million pounds.” It was a miracle neither of the lads fainted, saying this. The room filled with hesitant applause. Denis’s skin prickled in the wake of sharp gazes directed his way. He was still fighting not to crumble into a puddle on the floor.
Ravi made his way to the edge of the stage, the black fabric of his suit stretching as he jumped down onto the marbled floor, catching himself by a slight bend of his knees, hand still in his pocket. When he began walking, Denis had the unpleasant feeling of needing to vomit. 
He exchanged a glance with his Maman; her face a satisfied mask as she sent a smirk his way. He couldn’t help but wonder if she thought his outrageous bid had been made to assert the Arnold House position, to flaunt their prosperity, and mark who was the current King of the Hill. If the Arnold House’s abundance hadn’t been obvious before, it was now established – the Arnolds were in a league of their own.
Denis didn’t know why Ravi had to look so good. Why did he have to walk with a confidence that made the blonde’s heart throb in rhythm with the tall lad’s steps? Those green eyes were traced on him. Was this how Ravi’s opponents felt whenever they had the ball? 
He had so many regrets. And yet, he longed.
Before the tall lad got too close, he rose. Pushing his chair back and stretching to his full length. The rest of the world watched the interaction. The noble houses were all subdued, forced belly up, as they watched the blonde effortlessly claim what they could never afford: a date with Ravi Baldwin. 
He had to crank his neck as Ravi came up close. It was hard thinking with him right there. The familiar scent of cedarwood felt like a slap in the face. Ravi stopped in front, eyes unreadable in a way they’d never been before. Five years being the darling of rugby would do that. Despite Ravi being right here, Denis couldn’t help but feel he was miles away.
Ravi held out his hand, large and calloused as always. The smile directed at Denis might have been genuine; it could also have been polished to such perfection he’d never be able to tell the difference. However it was, the blonde allowed himself a few seconds of pretending. Pretending that Ravi was happy to see him.
“Shall we?” His timbre made Denis close his eyes involuntarily, legs trembling. He’d never felt so flayed before, not for years. Not since Harvard. 
“Yes.” It was a miracle his voice remained even as he dared put his hand in Ravi’s. The touch was warm, his fingers tingling as they were swallowed by a rough hand. 
Ravi tucked Denis’s hand into the crook of his elbow, leading him out of the room towards the dance floor. Denis couldn’t help but lean on Ravi, unable to properly support himself. He knew he was giving away too much, knew that the rugby lad could feel him rely on his sturdy frame. Ravi didn’t mention it, took his weight like it was nothing. He also did not mention Denis’s trembling hand. The blonde was grateful as they exited, leaving the dining hall behind. His Maman would be fine, he could almost hear her purr in satisfaction at the striking sight he and Ravi made. 
Gods, what had he done?
People filtered out after them into the ballroom. The floor lay open and inviting in front of them; the quartet had received backup, an entire orchestra placed behind them, already playing an upbeat melody. Denis was a good dancer, having practised waltz, quickstep, and tango since he was a small runt. Ravi would not have, but the tall man was a stranger; in five years, things changed. Perhaps he’d been to enough events to learn some steps? Perhaps he’d had teachers? Handsome men and beautiful women?
The thought tasted bitter as Ravi effortlessly placed them in the centre of the room, still acting as a crutch to Denis as his fingertips tasted the smooth fabric of his suit. He wanted Ravi to grab his hand again, wanted to linger on that bronze skin, feel the heat he knew burned from within. 
As they took their position, Denis found himself having forgotten every single dance he’d ever mastered. All he could do was stand there, looking at Ravi as people trickled into the room, taking their place around them on the dance floor. 
He swallowed as he placed a hand on Ravi’s shoulder, the muscle flexing beneath his hand. His other hand was gripped, and there it was… the heat.
Denis’s eyes were stuck to Ravi’s chest, watching the dark fabric stretch over swelling pectorals, the white shirt beneath fitting him well. The collar was so bright it stung his eyes. He was blinking rapidly, telling himself to get a grip.