“Where are you going?” Valerie asked.
He straightened his coat. “To dance.”
Valerie’s eyes widened. “You?”
“Do not make this more difficult than it already is,” he mumbled.
A smile tugged at her lips. “Good luck, Uncle.”
Gabriel ignored her. Or attempted to.
Crossing the room felt strangely similar to marching towards a battle. Every step heightened his awareness of Amelia’s presence. When he finally reached her, she looked up and fell silent. Her cheeks coloured slightly.
Dangerous woman.
“Your Grace,” she said softly.
“Miss Shirley.”
Neither moved for a moment. Neither seemed entirely certain where to begin. At last, Gabriel offered his hand.
“Would you do me the honor of this dance?” Gabriel asked, extending his hand towards her.
The question sounded perfectly respectable. The thoughts accompanying it were considerably less respectable.
Amelia stared at him for a heartbeat, her blue eyes searching his face. Then her expression softened, and a small smile touched her lips.
“I should be delighted,” she replied, placing her gloved hand into his.
Gabriel closed his fingers gently around hers and drew a slow breath. The simple touch nearly undid him.
Heat traveled straight up his arm, settling somewhere dangerously close to his heart. Her fingers were gloved, yet he felt every point of contact as though nothing separated them at all. It was absurd. Ridiculous. Entirely unacceptable.
And completely unavoidable.
As he guided her towards the ballroom, Amelia glanced up at him.
“You appear nervous,” she whispered.
Gabriel nearly laughed. “Nervous?”
Amelia tilted her head slightly as she looked up at him. She nodded when he raised a brow. “Very slightly.”
Gabriel guided her into position for the dance and attempted a look of complete composure.
“I assure you, Miss Shirley,” he said smoothly, “I am perfectly calm.”
Amelia’s smile deepened, and her gaze flickered meaningfully towards their joined hands.
“Then perhaps your hand is squeezing mine tightly for some other reason.”
Gabriel glanced down at once.
Curse it. It was. Fool.
The amusement dancing in her eyes nearly finished him entirely. For one reckless moment, he wanted to tell her everything. That she occupied his thoughts from morning until night. That he had spent days avoiding her because being near her required more self-control than he possessed. That every plan he made for the future somehow included her before he remembered it should not.
Instead, he merely guided her onto the floor. The music began. And as he led her onto the dance floor, surrounded by guests, candlelight, and expectation, Gabriel realized one alarming truth. He no longer feared losing Amelia someday.
