Ah, there’s the warrior.
Killian raised both of his hands in surrender. ‘No need to attack, Miss Simmons. If you’re not frightened, are you curious?’
‘I’m neither. Why would I be?’
‘I’m not sure. A sixth sense that I have. Makes me think maybe you are a bit of both. Frightenedandcurious.’ He watched her throat constrict as she swallowed. She broke eye contact with him, and it was all the confirmation he needed. ‘I’ll tell you what, I make a solemn vow that you have nothing to fear from me, Miss Simmons. Not here. Not now.’
A dry laugh escaped her lips. ‘When a gentleman escorts a lady to a deserted location, it’s rarely from altruistic motivations.’ Her hand remained in her pocket.
‘An astute judgment, but I will not press my advantage. I know when it comes to you, a man has very little advantage at all.’
‘Then why are we out here? Alone?’
‘You’ve never danced at a ball.’ It was a statement, but he waited for her to confirm his guess.
She raised her chin and blinked.
I’m correct, then.
Killian took a tentative step closer. ‘I want to dance with you. But I don’t want you to feel watched by them.’ He flicked his chin toward the windows.
She kept her gaze on him. But her lips trembled. This fearless fighter looked ready to run. And Killian wanted to know why.
‘I don’t know how to dance.’ It was a difficult admission for her. Killian knew it by the hesitation in her voice. ‘It’s not something a woman like me would ever need to know. Lady Winterbourne offered to have an instructor come, but I always declined.’
‘Do you want to dance?’
‘I just told you, I can’t.’
‘No. You said you don’t know how. That’s not the same. I’ll show you. If you’ll let go of the dagger in your pocket long enough for a waltz.’
Miss Simmons narrowed her gaze. ‘It’s a muff pistol.’
‘Of course. Will you?’ Killian extended his arms in a dancing frame, which felt frighteningly vulnerable with no guaranteed partner. Not to mention the risk of a bullet from the lovely Miss Simmons. But it was also monumentally important for her to have control of this moment. He knew this truth even if he didn’t know why.
She looked at his arms, then his face. Slowly, she removed her hand from her skirts. ‘I won’t be very good.’
‘Well, that should be a novel experience for you. I wager you’re usually quite good at anything you put your mind to.’ He stopped himself from smiling by sheer force of will. ‘Be brave, Miss Simmons.’
She huffed out a breath. ‘Oh, please.’ Brusquely walking towards him, she stopped just short of his arms.
He reached for her, guiding her hand to his shoulder, pulling her close. ‘You put your hand here. And here.’ Slowly, he caught her other hand, her palm resting against his. ‘And I will put mine here.’ He let his right hand settle at her waist. Her scent surrounded him, sharp and sweet.
The evening was cool, but he only felt the warmth of her body against his. Her skirts brushed his legs.
‘What now?’ Her voice had grown husky.
The strain of music was muted but he could still find the count.
‘Now, we dance.’ He pulled her forward as he stepped back. She stumbled at first and stiffened. ‘Follow my lead, Miss Simmons. Feel the beat of each step. It’s not dissimilar to fighting.You read my movements and counter them with your own.’ She glanced up, and the absolute clarity of amber in her eyes, like the finest of whiskeys and just as intoxicating, captured him.
He felt the moment she relaxed. Her body flowed into his. They were one being, moving together to the layered vibrations of violin and cello, wind and heartbeat.
Hannah was acutely aware of three facts. Lord Killian’s body was hard everywhere she touched him. He moved with lethal grace. And he lied when he told her she had nothing to fear from him. She had everything to fear. The man was dismantling all her carefully constructed walls and threatening the very boundaries of her heart.
The music stopped, and their bodies stilled. His hand tightened on her waist.
Hannah had never kissed a man.
