Another turn. Another step. His hand tightens slightly on my waist.
“I could—” I start.
“Would you—” he says at the same time.
We both stop and laugh awkwardly.
“You first,” I manage.
“No, please.” He dips me slightly, catching me off guard. “Ladies first.”
I’m upside down, looking up at his face, completely at his mercy. The red sparks in his eyes catch the fading light.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to come,” I say, slightly breathless. “To the gala. With me.”
A beat. Two.
Then his face transforms into something I’ve never seen before—surprise, yes, but also something almost painfully hopeful.
“You’re asking me on a date?”
“I’m asking you to accompany me to a social obligation.” I’m still upside down. Blood is rushing to my head. “That happens to involve dancing. And formal wear. And potentially a silent auction.”
“Sounds like a date to me.”
“It’s not?—”
He pulls me upright so quickly I stumble into his chest. His arms wrap around me, steadying, and suddenly we’re closer than we’ve been since the kiss.
“Isadora.” His voice is low, rough. “Are you asking me on a date?”
I look at his face. At the hope there, barely concealed beneath the usual charm. At the vulnerability he’s letting me see for the first time.
Trust me,he’d asked.
And I do. God help me, I do.
“Yes,” I say. “I’m asking you on a date.”
Something flickers at the edge of my vision—a flash of red light, there and gone. I look down at his wrist, at the leather bracelet, and watch as a third stone shifts from black to glowing ruby.
Three stones now. Three rubies out of seven.
“Mal.” I grab his wrist, examining the bracelet. “What just happened?”
He’s gone very still. His eyes are fixed on the stones, on the new ruby that pulses faintly with inner light.
“The third invitation,” he says quietly.
“Third? What—” I stop. Think back. The first time I asked him to dance with me for the showcase. The dinner at my cottage. And now this.
Three invitations. Three rubies.
“Are you expecting four more?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer immediately. His thumb traces over the stones with an expression I can’t read.
“Mal.”
