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We join them, blending in with the ripple of moving bodies. Harper takes my hands, raising them into the air, and starts dancing as if we’re the main attraction and everyone else around us are our backup dancers.
She mouths the worddanceto me, and I do. First, I sway lightly to the beat, giving my legs time to adjust, but the instant the rhythm flows through my body, I allow myself to get lost in it and release my worries. The tension eases, giving me access to that place inside my soul where I long to just be me.
I start dancing the way I used to before the accident, and it’s fun.
Harper lets go of my hands and makes a show of pointing back to the gorgeous godlike man. I look at him, and when my eyes lock with his, my stomach flutters.
My God, he’s still watching me.
Watching with even more interest that’s making my body come alive with heat and desire. There's something almost predatory in his gaze that touches every secret part of me.
Harper leans in towards my ear. “Keep dancing.” Her voice is hardly audible, but I hear her, and I keep dancing, soaking up the attention my handsome stranger gives me.
His eyes roam over my body, slowly and leisurely, as if he’s undressing me layer by layer and committing my body to memory. I chance looking him up and down, too, and I wonder what it might be like to be with a man like him.
He looks like he wouldn’t be the sort of guy to live to please my father. Heck, I doubt this guy would care about things like being proper, and he wouldn’t care if my father liked him or not.
Desire pools low in my belly, lulling me to proceed with this… game?
It feels like a game.
And why not play?
My handsome stranger is all the way up there, and I’m down here. It’s harmless fun.
Fueled with the magnetism of attraction, I continue dancing.
Dancing for him.
Dancing for me.
ChapterTwo
Dante
Nothing is truer than the saying, ‘never mix business with pleasure’.
It’s the same kind of terrible idea as trying to mix oil and water, or giving a snake a second chance when they’ve already bitten you.
So, I already know I shouldn’t be watching the beautiful girl on the dance floor the way I am. With wanton eyes and dangerous thoughts of how many ways I’d like to fuck her.
If I’d completely lost my mind, I’d march right down to the dance floor and take her right there. I’d claim her before the world, the way a conqueror of empires declares his supremacy.
I rest my hands on the metal rail of the balcony and rivet my gaze to her body as the beauty dances.
Dances for me.
I know when a woman is doing something just for my benefit and pleasure, even if she’s in a crowd.
The rules would tell me to leave now that I’ve seen what I came here to see,
but I’ve never been the guy to play by anyone else’s rules except my own.
Even when I appear to be following the rules, it’s because I’m choosing to. I know how to choose my battles to win the war.
That’s what I did when I was behind bars, held under maximum security at the Souza-Baranowski Correctional Center.
Watching the raven-haired beauty dance for me is the same thing.
