After a moment of hesitation, she laughed and slid her delicate fingers over his rough palm. “Yes.”
“I must warn you. I really can’t dance. You’ll have to teach me.”
“It’s all right.” She laced her fingers through his, and he hitched a breath.
Right now, she could ask him to lift the entire hall with a finger and he’d do it. She led him to the end of the hall behind the Grecian columns that formed a dimly lit arcade. The music came muffled but was loud enough to follow it. Maybe it was a waltz.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, ignoring the hot turmoil in his chest. He had no idea what he was doing, but it didn’t seem to matter. She laughed as he made her twirl in the shadows of the arcade. Her skirt flapped around, enveloping them in a cloud of blue muslin. He copied the movements of the couples in the ballroom, but if he did a poor job, she didn’t complain about it.
When the music ended amidst the clapping couples, she sagged against him, laughing. Her cheek rested on his chest, and the fresh scent of her hair teased his senses. He wanted to stroke the shiny golden curls and tangle his fingers through them to see if they were as silky as they looked. He wanted to bury his face in the crook of her neck and get lost in her softness.
She reclined her head to meet his gaze. He could spend the whole night trying to decide what colour her eyes were. There was violet, blue, and a hint of green, but they changed with the light.
“I’m happy you’re staying with us,” she said.
His pulse spiked in a moment. She was happy.
She inched back, and he missed her warmth. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
His heartbeat plunged. Instant destruction. A cold shower wouldn’t be more shocking. Friends. There was no more devastating word in the English language. He was a friend to her. But then again, what did he expect? He scratched the back of his neck, not sure about what to say. It was better that she considered him only a friend. If he repeated that a few times, he might believe it.
“I’d better see where Paul is,” he said, stepping back from her. “I promised to help him keep an eye on the horses.”
She took his hand, stopping him. “Thank you for the dance. I enjoyed it.”
He slid his hand out of hers. “So did I, Miss Sharpe.”
