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I nod. “I saw someone do it, and I’m curious.”
Her expression is thoughtful as we slow our dance. “It’s kind of advanced for a beginner.”
“I’d say I was approaching being an intermediate,” I say.
A smile ghosts across her lips. “And after one more dance you’ll be an expert?”
“How did you guess?”
If she knew how close to the truth that statement was.
Eyeing me for a beat, she sighs and stops our dance. “Okay, you need to take a step back.”
I step back, waiting for further instructions I don’t need.
“You lift my left arm up.” She waits until I do, then continues. “And then you twirl me.”
I keep my eyes on her as I slowly guide her three hundred and sixty degrees, moving so slowly that she knows I’m fully in control of her.
“Excellent.” She smiles.
I return that soft smile, slide my arm around her waist, and tuck her body close again before I continue our sway across the floor. “That was surprisingly easy.”
“We’re too close,” she murmurs, with her cheek pressed against my chest.
We’re not nearly close enough.
Our thighs brush against each other. “I don’t think we are.”
I’m working out if it’s too soon to kiss her when she inches back. I let her go and we return to our slow dance. “You were telling me about your fake Rolex,” she reminds me.
A subtler retreat than her stepping back.
“I could buy a real one if I wanted,” I explain as we dance another circle around the perimeter of the room. “Ten if I wanted, and it wouldn’t hurt my wallet at all.”
“You keep your shirt sleeves rolled up,” she comments quietly. “As if you want to draw attention to it. As if you want people to notice it.”
I smile faintly at her observation. “That’s because Idowant people to notice it.”
“And do they?”
“People admire it. Sometimes from up close. Do you know what they do?”
She shakes her head. Soft strands brush my throat, and I fight back the urge to crush her tighter against me. “They fawn over it.Thingsdon’t matter to me. Money doesn’t matter to me. It’s a security that I value, but it’s never the material things I need.”
I’ve said more than I intended, but if I can’t say these things to my mate, then who can I say them to?
“What matters to you?” she asks quietly, moving closer as if she senses the deep well of pain inside me and wants to comfort me. Another sign she’s my mate as much as I’m hers. Only a scent-matched pair would so instinctively want to comfort and reassure.
“People. What they say, how they say it, and why they say it. More importantly, how to get them to do what I want without them realizing it.”
She tilts her head back to meet my eye. “Is that how you run your business?”
“Little omega, it’s how wesucceedat our business. We each have our strengths, and this is one of mine.”
“What have you gotten me to say that I wouldn’t have said otherwise?” she asks, holding my gaze steadily.
I return her look. “You, Everleigh, are not business. I want nothing from you than what you’re prepared to give me.”
