Page 116 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

“River,” Briar begins.

I touch her arm. “I’ll see you so—ack!” She grabs the tops of my shoulders and spins me around and?—

My heart thuds hard against my rib cage, and emotion flows through me so rapidly my vision spins.

Because those grand double doors aren’t empty.

Thorn is standing in them, his gaze searching the room.

I inhale and?—

That deep green gaze locks onto mine.

Emotion flares in him too. I see it in his eyes, in the way his mouth drops open and his throat works and how he nervously shoves a hand through his hair, sending the locks tumbling around his face.

Then he steps fully into the ballroom and…it’s like the world disappears.

The music fades.

The crowd parts.

The ballroom fades away.

All of it.

Just…gone.

There’s only Thorn, his strides long and determined as he crosses over to me, as he pauses in front of me. As he wraps his fingers around mine.

They’re warm and a little rough and…

God, he came.

Wearing a velvet jacket, deep green to match my dress and threaded with silver embroidery. His hair is disheveled and his beard is a little more overgrown than normal and his eyes?—

“Little hen,” he murmurs.

His eyes undo me.

“Are you really here?” I whisper. “I’m not having a bad reaction to the punch?”

His mouth kicks up and his fingers squeeze mine. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m really here.”

I release a shuddering exhale as hope burns through my insides. “Oh,” I whisper. My eyes slide closed and I don’t realize a tear has escaped until his thumb brushes over my cheek and my lids fly open, the glistening drop on his finger.

“I’m so sorry, little hen,” he says softly. “This mess is all my fault.”

“It really is,” I blurt, but I don’t mean it. Not really. So, I admit, “I was just telling Briar goodnight. I was coming to knock some sense into you.”

His eyes looks away, and then he laughs and looks back, tucks an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “We’re a pair, huh?” he murmurs.

For a moment, neither of us moves.

Then he’s tugging me closer, cupping my jaw in his palm. “I love you.”

My lips part on a shaky exhale. “I love you too, but?—”

He tenses like he’s going to pull away and I wrap my hand around his wrist, keep his palm where it is. “I need you to know that I wasn’t disgusted by what you told me, wasn’t repulsed by what you did?—”