My Child and I Married a Billionaire

Chapter 111: Chapter 111: Your Feet Hurt? Let Me See

With that, Shane Grant walked straight toward Cecelia Archer.

Damien Vaughn was discussing technology with a business magnate. Cecelia Archer didn’t understand a word of it, and she wouldn’t dare interrupt anyway, so she simply stood by as an ornament, a glass of champagne in her hand.

Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder and heard Shane Grant’s voice.

"Cecelia, I need to talk to you. Can I have a word in private?"

Cecelia turned to meet his gaze. She actually wanted to talk to him about Annie, too. But just as she was about to agree, Damien Vaughn grabbed her by the wrist.

"It’s not a good time. The ball has started, and Cecelia is dancing with me."

Cecelia was at a loss for words.

’Dance? I can’t do that.’

But before she could get a word out, Damien Vaughn cut her off with authority.

"If you don’t know how, I’ll teach you."

As he spoke, he moved his hand to Cecelia’s waist, pulling her snugly into his arms.

"You’re so smart; you’ll pick it up in no time. And you’ll be beautiful when you do."

His move was an unmistakable act of staking his claim.

Shane Grant couldn’t fathom how their relationship had progressed so quickly. Just as he was about to ask what was going on, Damien Vaughn placed his glass on a passing waiter’s tray and nodded to the business magnate.

"President King, we’re off to the dance floor. Care to join us?"

The magnate, a portly man well past fifty, simply smiled and waved his hand.

"I’m too old for that. My body’s not as light on its feet as you young folks. I won’t make a fool of myself, you go on ahead. I’ve never seen President Vaughn Junior dance before. This should be quite a sight."

Without a sideways glance, Damien Vaughn guided Cecelia onto the dance floor.

The ball had just begun and the music had just started to play. Many people were eager to dance but hadn’t yet taken the first step.

Damien Vaughn was never one for the spotlight, but today was an exception.

With one hand on his shoulder and the other held in his, Cecelia faced a circle of probing gazes, her cheeks burning.

"I really don’t know how to dance. Besides, no one else is out here yet. What are you doing? Isn’t this embarrassing?"

"What’s there to be embarrassed about? A ball is for dancing. They’ll all join in soon enough, and then no one will have time to watch you. Just follow my lead... yes, just like that."

Cecelia was led into the dance.

Strangely, she seemed to have a natural sense of rhythm. The moment Damien finished speaking, she found the beat.

She wasn’t sure how to hold herself or create the right lines with her body, but as she followed his steps—forward, back, and into a turn—every move was perfectly on beat.

"See? I told you you could do it."

Damien Vaughn smiled at her flushed face. "See? Everyone’s admiring you."

Cecelia didn’t dare meet anyone’s eyes. She couldn’t even bear Damien’s gentle, loving gaze. She fixed her eyes on his shoulder, relying on feeling to move with the music.

In height, looks, and build, the two were a perfect match. They danced with such elegance and grace that after a moment of watching, the other guests began to join them on the floor.

As more and more people filled the dance floor, Damien seemed to relax, becoming more absorbed in the dance.

When one song ended, he pulled Cecelia right into another.

Cecelia lost track of how long they’d been dancing, how many times they’d spun. Her whole body was flushed with heat, yet he showed no signs of stopping.

"I can’t dance anymore. My feet hurt, and I’m so hot. Can we please take a break?"

Without even glancing at the surrounding crowd, Damien pulled her through a few more turns, magically spinning them right off the dance floor.

An island table in the center of the banquet hall was laden with exquisite pastries and drinks. He led Cecelia there and, with a gentle lift, placed her on a tall stool.

"Which foot hurts? Let me see."

As he spoke, he took hold of both her feet.

’In public? In front of all these people? I’m wearing a short skirt, and he’s looking at my feet?’

Cecelia frantically tried to pull away. "Could you be a little more discreet?"

"What’s there to be afraid of? Everyone here knows you’re mine. What’s wrong with looking at your feet? Is it this one?" ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Not only did Damien refuse to let go, he actually took off her shoe.

The arch of Cecelia’s left foot was slightly red. His large, clean hand cupped her sole as his thumb began to gently rub the tender spot.

"I’ve seen you in high heels before. Why are they giving you so much trouble today?"

"How high were those heels? And how high are these?"

The rubbing tickled her, and she tried to pull away, but Damien’s grip was too firm. She couldn’t escape.

"You’re not short; you don’t need to wear heels this high. I’ll have a word with Zeke Walton later. We’ll have him make you shoes with a heel height you’re comfortable with. This won’t happen again."

His fingers continued their gentle massage as he spoke, and Cecelia’s face grew so hot she felt it could boil water.

"I know, I know! Let go of me. People are going to laugh at you."

"That’s where you’re wrong. In our circle, the more a man shows his family is harmonious and that he dotes on his wife, the more respect he earns."

Damien Vaughn said this unhurriedly. When he finished, they couldn’t help but look up at each other.

’Dotes on his wife?’ Had he subconsciously started thinking of Cecelia as his wife?

Cecelia, on the other hand, didn’t dare to even imagine it. Her, Damien Vaughn’s wife? Unthinkable!

The sudden mention of the word "wife" made things a little awkward. They met each other’s eyes for a second, then tacitly looked away.

Just then, a waiter passed by, and Damien called out to him.

"Do you have any bandages? Could you bring me a couple?"

"Of course, sir. One moment."

Cecelia tried to get down from the stool. "My feet will be fine if I just stop dancing. I don’t need a bandage; I’m not that delicate."

"Is it that you don’t want to dance, or that you don’t want to dance with *me*?"

The reason Damien had kept her on the dance floor was because he could feel Shane Grant’s eyes fixed on Cecelia the entire time.

He was certain that the second he let Cecelia go, Shane would swoop in. He wasn’t about to give him that chance.

Cecelia, who was halfway off the stool, was promptly lifted back onto it by Damien.

The two were sharing an intimate moment when Zeke Walton and Shane Grant approached, wine glasses in hand.

Zeke Walton started teasing the moment he opened his mouth. "Well, I’ll be damned, Vaughn. I never knew you had such a tender side. Giving your girl a foot rub in public? I’ve really seen it all now. The eternal bachelor finally makes a move, and you’re trying to give me a heart attack?"

Even with two men staring at him as he massaged a woman’s foot, Damien remained unruffled.

"I’ve always been this tender, just only with women," he said calmly. "If you’re that desperate to experience it, try being born as a woman in your next life."

"And would changing my gender even work? There are plenty of women here, but I don’t see you giving a foot rub to any of them. Cecelia sure is a lucky woman."

At this, Zeke couldn’t help but shoot a glance at Shane Grant. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Cecelia wasn’t just lucky; she was capable.

Damien Vaughn, the man every woman in Veridia wanted to marry, was at her beck and call, treating her with utmost tenderness. And on top of that, even the cold and aloof Shane Grant had a soft spot for her.

’Damn it,’ Zeke thought, ’I really wish I was a woman!’

The waiter was quick. A box of bandages was delivered.

Damien took out two bandages and applied one to the arch of each of Cecelia’s feet. He then picked up her shoes, put them on for her, and helped her down from the stool.

"Try it now. See if that’s better."