It was too much. Dancing had always been a weakness of mine. Two bodies pressed together, moving seamlessly to the music. Who wouldn’t that affect? But he couldn’t know that about me, right?
We started to move. Slowly. Intimately. His body fit perfectly against mine—which seemed almost criminal—and I matched his every step, like we’d done this a thousand times before. I tried to focus on the music, on the sultry sound of the singer’s voice and the haunting swell of the instruments, but Lucien made that impossible. Every breath I took smelled of him. Dark, expensive cologne with the faintest trace of bloodwine.
His hand tightened around my waist, and I tensed.
“Relax,” he murmured.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I shot back, but it came out softer than I’d intended—too breathy to sound convincing.
His chuckle was low and sinful. “Of course not.”
We kept dancing, our bodies swaying together in perfect unison. Considering who Lucien was, it surprised me that he wasn’t showy. He didn’t dip or twirl me or try to draw any attention whatsoever. He just held me close, and I… I let myself lean into it. Into him.
I knew better. This was the part in every romance novel where the heroine made an extremely hot and ill-advised decision. But pressed against him, his hand anchored against my waist, I couldn’t seem to force myself to walk away.
Lucien was trouble. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that. I just didn’t care anymore.
See? Dancing was dangerous.
The song tapered off and a ripple of applause swept through the lounge. Whether they were applauding the band or us, I had no idea.
Lucien and I stopped moving, but neither of us let go. For one second, we just stood there, his hands still holding me close, and mine now resting against his chest. I couldn’t remember moving it there.
I lifted my head. He lowered his.
And everything stilled.
The room around us vanished until he was the only thing I was aware of. The feel of his chest rising beneath my palm, of his breath brushing my face, of his dark eyes boring into mine.
For one stupidly glorious moment, I thought he would kiss me.
But then he let out a quiet breath, almost like a regretful sigh, and stepped back.
Just enough to break the spell.
Sound returned with a snap, like someone had hit play on reality again. I stole a quick glance, only to find us, not the band, the center of attention. Lucien cleared his throat, and everyone’s focus moved on, as though they suddenly remembered they had better places to be. I turned back to him and watched as he straightened his cuffs like a man who hadn’t just fried all my common sense.
“I believe you said you needed to return to the bar,” he said.
It took me two attempts to speak. “Right. Yes. That I did.”
He offered me his elbow and waited for me to rest my fingertips against it. It took me a few moments to reciprocate the gesture, but the second I touched his arm, an internal scream shook my bones.
“Then, shall we?” he asked.
I nodded slowly, my nerves coiling with every step we took. He’d almost kissed me. Kissed me. In public. I had a feeling our audience had been the only thing that stopped him.
So, what did that mean?
Because we were about to take a walk through the quiet, shadowed streets of Eternity Falls. Just the two of us. And my bar? Oh, that was even worse. There very much would not be an audience there. Unless the ghosts counted—and somehow, I suspected they did not.
Would he kiss me there?
Did I want him to?
Duh, girl. Of course I did.
Every part of my logical brain told me to smarten up. I’d been down this road before. Spent a hundred years believing someone loved me, only for him to rip my heart out and stomp it into itty-bitty pieces.
