Chapter 3 - An Unexpected Escort
When the waltz concluded, Leandro did not lead Clare back to Table Twelve. Instead, he led her directly toward the VIP coat check.
"Where are we going?" she asked, catching her breath.
"I am taking you home," Leandro stated simply. "Unless you wish to stay and listen to Mr. Harkort explain his luxury vehicles for another hour?"
Clare couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "No. I think I’d rather jump into the Mississippi River."
His security guard—a burly man in a crisp suit named Marko—appeared out of nowhere, holding Leandro’s long charcoal wool coat along with Clare’s modest cardigan. Marko bowed his head slightly toward Clare, his expression carrying a new level of profound respect.
As they walked out the grand front doors of the hotel, the chilly Minneapolis night air hit Clare’s bare shoulders, making her shiver.
Before she could react, Leandro draped his heavy, warm coat over her shoulders. The fabric smelled divine—sandalwood, leather, and high-end tobacco.
A sleek, blacked-out Maybach pulled up to the curb. Marko held the door open, and Leandro gestured for Clare to enter first.
The ride was quiet, but the air inside the luxury sedan was charged with an undeniable, heavy tension. Sitting so close to Leandro in the dim interior, Clare realized just how massive and imposing he truly was. His broad shoulders filled the leather seat, his long legs nearly touching hers.
"Where do you live, Clare?" he asked softly.
She gave him the address of her modest apartment building in Saint Paul. It was a humble, old brick building, far removed from the pristine penthouses of the Minneapolis elite.
When the car pulled up to her curb twenty minutes later, Leandro stepped out into the crisp night to open her door himself. He walked her all the way to the glass entrance of her building.
"Thank you, Mr. Vitali," Clare said, handing him back his coat. "For saving me tonight."
Leandro reached out, his long fingers gently tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her skin, making her breath hitch.
"It's Leandro," he corrected her in a low growl. "And I didn't save you, Clare. You saved me from an extraordinarily boring night."
He leaned down, pressing his lips gently against the back of her hand, right over her knuckles. The warmth of his kiss burned into her skin long after he pulled away.
May you like
"I will see you soon, Clare."
She stood in the lobby, watching his Maybach drive away into the city darkness, her heart racing as she touched the spot where his lips had rested.
