Neil muttered an unusually vibrant curse under his breath as he lifted up his arms—and started to move.
His shoulders pulsed with the stomp of his feet, body twisting in perfect time with the music.
He shot her a wild look through his spectacles—even as his hand rose to his head, elbow swinging.“How am I doing this!?”
Constance’s wrists flicked as she circled her hips.“Does it matter?!”
Neil answered by clasping her hand and throwing her into a spin.
Constance whirled on the toe of her boot.She fell back—and hung there, suspended at the end of Neil’s grip… just like three dozen other women around her.
The song froze.
Her eyes locked with Neil’s surprised green look as they remained perfectly balanced, her back hovering halfway to the ground.
Goodness, she thought with an odd hitch in her chest.I’m rather enjoying this.
The beat of the silenced music carried on in the thud of her pulse.One… two… three…
The drum pounded, and Neil hauled Constance up.She caught herself against him, her hands going to his chest as his arm circled her waist.
She was vaguely conscious that everyone around them was doing the same thing, the entire crowd still locked in sync by the music—but only vaguely.The rest of her attention was consumed by the feeling of Neil’s heart pounding against the surface of her palm.
Constance’s cheeks flushed with summer heat and exertion.A bead of sweat slid down the line of Neil’s jaw.His chest was firm under the light fabric of his jacket.
That’s right,Constance thought distantly.He is quite fit under all that tweed.
Cold water blasted over her skin, dampening her blouse and kissing the heated skin of her neck.The packed festival goers broke out in cheers, raising up their arms to catch the moisture against the sultry afternoon.
A pair of young men held a fire hose nearby, aiming it out over the crowd as their friends furiously worked the pump.
Constance grabbed Neil’s hand and dragged him through the roaring, cheering audience packed against the edge of the dance.
He caught her by the shoulders, whirling her to face him.“We just danced like we knew what the devil we were doing!”he burst out, pitching his voice over the roar of the crowd.“How could we possibly have done that?”
“Maybe that’s just how it works in India!”she shouted back.
“Dancing when you shouldn’t know how?”
Neil’s spectacles were splattered with droplets.He released his grip on her to yank them off, wiping them quickly on his handkerchief.
More water—mingled sweat and damp—glistened on his skin above the vivid saffron of the scarf.
Constance’s eyes locked there.
Neil put his glasses back on.“Connie?”he asked worriedly.
Constance shook off the odd fugue that had taken over her brain.Must be the music,she thought distantly.
A glimpse of silver and khaki flashed through the crowd ahead.
Borthwick.
“I have him!”Constance plunged forward as another cheer rose from the crowd.
Her pulse kicked up as she drew closer to her quarry, Neil pushing along in her wake.
Got you now,she thought with a burst of triumph.
