She had to stop herself as they neared a corner of the room, and he turned her gracefully with a dizzying maneuver. But soon enough, she recovered her breath.
“Not this type of graceful, accomplished dancer. You didn’t just learn the waltz for this mission, did you?”
“I think you should forget your preconceptions about me. Or maybe not. I enjoy shattering them. As it happens, dancing has been a hobby of mine for years now,” he confessed with what he knew would be a smug expression on his face.
“I see. Any other hobbies besides dancing?”
“You want to know all my secrets?”
“I wouldn’t call hobbies a secret.”
“True. But I’d rather be mysterious and let people discover me at their own pace. One thin layer at a time.”
“Dariux, stop teasing me. I think we are past the top layers, you and me.”
Awareness flooded his body at her frank gaze. She was so lovely, so passionate. When had he started considering passion a virtue?
“If you must know, I also like to practice martial arts.”
He whisked her into another turn, without giving her time to respond.
“That’s closer to the image I had of you.”
He raised a brow. “And what image is that?”
“The tough, manly man who does manly pursuits, like weightlifting, fighting, and shooting. That sort of stuff.”
Amusement bubbled from him. “Martial arts are more similar to dancing than to the other activities you mentioned.”
She looked pensive for a moment. “I suppose you are right. Martial arts movements are graceful and controlled. Much like a dance. What type of martial art do you practice?”
“A mix of several. Capoeira, jiu jitsu, taekwondo, karate.”
He pressed her close to his body to help her follow his lead as he turned in a complicated pattern. She missed a step, but recovered and followed him flawlessly for the rest of the turn.
“It doesn’t have a definitive classification. My teacher has created his own martial art. But I can tell you that being light on my feet and able to move efficiently has helped both my dancing and my fighting.”
“I can believe that.”
“What about you? What do you enjoy doing when not consumed with analyzing emotions?”
“Me? Not much. I’m rather boring, I’m afraid. I like to garden and read. Nothing as exciting as what you do.”
“Hmm. It depends.”
“On what?”
“On the type of books you like to read,” he whispered close to her ear, and as he pulled back, he saw her cheeks were red. He threw back his head and laughed. Oh, he had hit a target. He would bet her taste in books would not be dull in the least.
Nothing about this spirited woman was boring or tame. She was as fiery as her hair. And he was drawn to her flames as a moth to light. He only hoped he would have the wisdom to avoid burning, but right now, he cared little about the consequences.
