I felt the corners of my mouth twitch as my stomach dropped, the weight of his stare, his voice, everything about him really, stealing my breath away.
Our eyes silently tangoed for a few more seconds, before there was a subtle change in the music. The string quartet over in the far corner of the room traded their mellow background noise for something softer. Romantic. A few people moved into the centre of the room, swaying in time with the easy chords.
Marcus shifted his head, clocking them, before his eyes were back on me. And then, slowly, he stepped back, just as his hand reached out. “Dance with me?”
I wanted to say no. Actually, I think we both knew that was a lie. Saying no to him would be impossible, not only because of how he looked, but more because, despite trying to climb back out of the chasm I’d fallen into, I couldn’t let go of the love I had for him.
And don’t give me that look because you haven’t fallen in love with Marcus Romano before. Not that I’d recommend it. It’s a terribly hard thing to get out of. Believe me, I’ve been trying all week.
So, wordlessly, I nodded, lifting my hand to his and letting him guide me into the middle of the dance floor.
When we stopped, one of his hands found my waist, the other held my hand out, like we’d done this a thousand times. We swayed in time with the music, and it was at this moment I was thankful that I’d chosen a dress that hid my feet, because I had no idea what steps went where, or what I was supposed to be doing.
But Marcus… of course he knew.
“How is it you know so muchandyou can dance?” I asked, not taking my eyes off him.
He shrugged, his smirk curling. “Mamà tried to get me into ballroom dancing when I was younger. These four steps were the only thing that stuck.”
I didn’t hide my smile. “Good, because I have no idea what I’m doing.”
His smile widened. “Want me to take the lead?”
My heart betrayed me and, before I could think, I nodded, surrendering myself to him.
He smiled down at me again, and then we slowed, enough for him to lead me into a twirl, the skirt of my dress flaring out, glittering under the lights. He pulled me back into him, this time closer, our chests brushing. And that did nothing but confirm two things.
One: I one hundred per cent, definitely, without a doubt still loved this man.
And two: He was still my number one safe space.
Which, in a room full of strangers judging my work, being all that stood between me and my dream, was where I needed to be right now.
As we danced, I sank into his hold more and more, and in no time my cheek lay flat against his heartbeat, as his hand slipped to the small of my back, holding me in place.
“I like your tux.” I said against him, and I felt his chest rumble with a laugh.
I felt his hand flex against my back. “I love your dress.”
He doesn’t love you, though.
I shut my eyes.
“Are you having fun?”
He sniffed a laugh. “Yes. Are you?”
I shrugged against him. “I was.”
His body tensed. “Until I showed up?”
Fuck.
“No.” I shook my head against him. “Until I thought about what happens after tonight when I don’t win.”
As the music tempo quickened, so did his steps, leading me into another dance sequence. “How do you know you’re not going to win?”
I shrugged, still not looking at him. “Just a hunch.”
