He felt his breath quicken, his body quicken…
And still they danced…
* * *
The world was disappearing. She knew it was. It was fading away, blending into the night, unseen, unnoticed, uncared about. Dissolving into an insubstantial mist.
For now there was only one reality.
Being in his arms again…
Luca’s arms…
Yes, he was holding her in the formal embrace of this slow, lilting waltz, and yet it was as intimate, as close, as intense, as if they were in the privacy of their own company.
It was strange, and yet it was so familiar—as if she had danced with him like this a thousand times. But she never had. Not like this.
Being in his arms, feeling his hand splayed against her spine, warm and firm through the thin silk of her gown, feeling hisother hand close around hers, her body brushing his, his brushing hers…
And gazing, gazing, gazing into his eyes…
His eyes were holding hers and it was impossible to look away…impossible…
Faintness drummed through her, and yet she had never felt so vividly, never seen the world in sharper focus. Because the world was being in Luca’s arms…nothing but that…
Dimly, she was aware that the music had stopped, that she and Luca had stopped, that all the other couples had stopped too. They were moving apart, moving away, and with a sudden start she knew she must move too. She let her hand fall from his shoulder, slid her other hand from his. Felt his resistance to her withdrawal.
Heard him say her name. Soft and low…a breath…nothing more.
‘Bianca…?’
Her expression flickered and she broke her eyes away from him. She had to. She must not go on just standing here like this, his hand still around her waist, gazing at him. She felt breathless, trembling.
His hand dropped away, as if with an effort, and he stepped apart from her. She saw him frown, as if confused, taken aback.
She took a breath—a steadying one. ‘I… I must get a drink,’ she managed to get out.
He didn’t stop her, and she headed back into the dining room. One of the household staff was manning the drinks table and she hurried up to him, gulping down the glass of water he poured for her.
Oh, dear God, what had just happened?
But she knew—oh, she knew.
How could she deny it?
Impossible to do so.
Her heart rate was still elevated, and now she could feel that her cheeks were flushed, her breathing ragged. She needed to get control of herself. Needed to put that catastrophic five minutes out of her head—completely out of her head.
Replacing her empty glass with a murmured thank-you, she turned and made her way out to the terrace again. She didn’t want to. All she wanted to do was bolt upstairs, gain the sanctuary of her bedroom, lock and bolt the door.
Not against Luca—against herself…
Against her greatest weakness. The weakness she could not defeat.
Wanting him again…
* * *
