“I…”
“Don’t shut me out, not now that you’re finally letting me see who you are.”
My lips twist into a wry smile and I down the contents of my wine glass, enjoying the simmering heat in my belly. “Idon’t even know who I am, so how can you?” My tone was meant to be teasing, but it comes out as a challenge.
“I know you prefer wine over champagne, and chicken over beef.” He smiles at me and his eyes shine like freshly polished silver. His teasing is quickly replaced with a gathering of his brows, giving him a countenance that’s serious and no-nonsense. “I know you’re a woman with an incredible intellect, who’s well educated and well-mannered. I know you’re mischievous and tactful, but warm, genuine, and empathetic. And I know you’re passionate, that you don’t hold anything back when you finally trust someone.”
My throat goes dry and my heart races to the point I can’t hear anything else except its thrumming. Tristano hasn’t just been watching me this whole time, he’s beenstudyingme. His astuteness is uncanny, but it thrills me all the same.
And it has me wonderingwhyhe’s been learning all these things about me…
I nod slowly, willing my cheeks to cool. “I had no idea you were paying such close attention.”
My fingers slightly tremble with nerves when I reach for my wine glass and fill it. Then I down the entire thing. From across the table, which feels a lot smaller now, Tristano watches me, his lips turning downward into a disapproving frown.
“I’ve never had alcohol before,” I say with a wave of my hand, trying to make light of my behavior. “Well, other than the liquor my sister snuck upstairs on her sixteenth birthday. That stuff was gross.” I wrinkle my nose at the thought of it, still able to recall how much it burned my throat and made me gag when I drank it.
“Violetta.”
My heart rate skyrockets again. Although I’m not sure it ever slowed to its original speed. “Hmm?”
He quirks a brow. “I don’t want you drunk on your first birthday as an adult, because then you’ll spend tomorrow hung over and possibly forget everything that happened this evening. The whole point is to offer you experiences and choices that you can carry with you afterwards.”
The lecture has irritation flaring within me, but I quickly dampen it. He’s right and that’s the only reason I’m annoyed. “Fine,” I say, lifting my chin. “But if I can’t drink anymore, then I’d like to do something else.”
“What would that be?”
Kiss you. Touch you. Be with you.
“Dance with you.”
He looks stunned by my answer and that melts any remaining vexation I had. After pushing back in my chair, I get to my feet and walk over to his side of the table. Then I hold out my hand.
“Are you serious?” Tristano’s gaze locks onto mine and he must see my determination because he blows out a sharp breath. “Very well, but only once.”
He instructs the musicians to strike up a waltz and then he’s leading me to the empty portion of the patio. “Do you know how to dance theVenetian Waltz, or any other formal dance?”
“Yes,” I say, “we were taught in preparation for our wedding day.”
His gaze flashes and remains bright as he takes my hand, pulling me toward him with a firm grip. I follow the unspoken command to draw near, and then erase the distance between us until my chest presses against his and the scent of him envelops me.
This is where I want to be.
This is where I want to stay.
“Thisisn’tyour wedding day,” he says, his voice tight, almost harsh. “It’syourday, not anyone else’s. But on the day you wed the man who has the privilege of taking you as his wife? That will behisday. Because for him, the day he marries you should have no equal.”
It’s in this moment that I fall completely in love with Tristano.
He invades my life-altering epiphany by sweeping me across the floor, into the circles and swirls that make up the structure of the dance. Thankfully muscle memory assists, keeping me from making an idiot of myself. Which I surely would’ve done because my mind is not on the steps. No, it’s reeling over what he just said about my future wedding day.
There’s no way I could’ve responded to Tristano’s statement without my heart shining in my eyes or my soul wrapping around his. What he said was the most profound and beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
And I want that to be my future.
I wantTristanoto be my future.
He expertly guides me through the formal dance and all the while I stare up at him, breathing him in. I absorb the way his arm muscles ripple under my fingertips and I can almost taste the flavor of the wine lingering on his breath. His every expression imprints itself on my brain, offering me a gallery of him that’ll last until my mind no longer functions.
