“Dance with me.”
Wells’s lips curved. “What?”
“Dance with me,” Kalie hissed, grabbing his scarred, calloused hand. Shocks jolted up her arm, but she refused to think about it. Definitely not. “Pretend we’re flirting.”
“Pretend to flirt—” Wells’s hand landed on the small of her back, and heat rushed through her— “or actually do it?”
“Pretend. Make it look real.” Her voice was breathy and her knees were going weak. She hated it, but she couldn’t look away from him if she tried.
“Your wish is my command, Princess.”
He took a step back, tugging her with him. Another step. Another. Then they became a flurry of motion, whirling across the floor.
The nobles parted around them, and despite everything in Kalie urging her to take the lead, she let Wells guide her in tune with the music. The storm of violins and drums whipped into a frenzy, and her silk gown swished around them in shades of blue.
“Have I ever told you that your eyes are striking?”
If he wasn’t clutching her hands, Kalie would’ve swatted his arm. “That’s your best attempt at flirting?”
“You said to pretend,” Wells taunted, spinning them through a towering archway, “so here I am, pretending. I couldn’t try, or it would be real, wouldn’t it?”
“I hate you, Wells,” she muttered, but she didn’t mean it. Not entirely.
He grinned. “If we’re dancing together, you might as well call me Zane.”
“Hell will freeze over first.”
Wells’s deep, booming laugh made heat pool in her stomach. Shivers jolted up her spine.
“So I’m guessing I can’t call you Kalista?”
Kalie narrowed her eyes as he twirled her rapidly, catching her with effortless grace. The merry notes of the violins escalated to awhirlwind, until it was impossible to tell where one note ended and the next began.
“Keep pushing it, and I’ll fire you.”
He laughed again. Damn Zagan to hell, but flutters danced in her stomach.
Droplets of water sprayed Kalie’s flushed skin as he twirled her in the shadow of a gushing waterfall. The court was undoubtedly watching every move, but the wildness of the dance felt like flying, so she hardly cared.
Euphoria. If there was a word for this song, this dance, it was euphoria.
The music was picking up, and the notes were so enchanting that Kalie let herself go. Rapid beats flew by, and she couldn’t focus on anything but her footing as Wells tried to match the tempo. The strain of the effort showed on his face, but they danced on. Around and around, past bronze pillars and stained glass windows and crackling waterfalls. The room and frenzied melody blurred into the background, and she could only see his face, could only feel his warm hands and the thumping of her heart, could only smell his ocean spray cologne mingling with her sweet cherry perfume?—
Then he blinked, and as his face dropped, he staggered. For a split second, he stood frozen, staring at her like he was staring at a ghost.
She tightened her grip on his hand. “What’s wrong?”
All color had drained from his face, but he took a shaky breath and guided them through the next steps. “Nothing,” he muttered, as sweat beaded on his forehead, “It’s nothing.”
But his steps were clumsy and slow, nothing like the euphoric whirlwind they’d been before. Kalie’s chest clenched as he avoided her gaze, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d done something, hurt him somehow. His face was still pale and drawn as he picked up speed, guiding them through the steps, twirling her like he had before, catching her gracefully?—
“I can’t,” he said abruptly, breaking away mid-step.
The floor fell out from under her. She stumbled, barely catching her footing. Panting, she braced her hands on her knees. He wasbreathing heavily. His face was stricken and pale, and his silver eyes were haunted.
“I—I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Wells—” As he bolted through the stunned crowd, her jaw fell open. “Wel—Zane!”
