The Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was a sea of black ties, sequined gowns, and the dull roar of polite society making conversation. It was the biggest night on the philanthropic calendar, and the air smelled of expensive perfume and lilies.
Damon Blackwood stood near the open bar, nursing a scotch he hadn't touched. He looked impeccable in his classic tuxedo, a pillar of stoic authority amidst the chaos. But his eyes weren't on the stage where the hospital director was giving a speech.
His eyes were tracking a midnight blue velvet jacket moving through the crowd.
Leo was a sensation.
The custom suit fit him like the "second skin" Damon had demanded. It hugged his slender waist and flared slightly at the hips, creating a silhouette that was both elegant and undeniably provocative. The velvet caught the light every time he moved, shimmering like a dark jewel.
And everyone wanted to touch it.
