He lifted his pointer finger. “One dance.”
“It might be my last.”
He considered this for a moment. “What if I give my word that I’ll protect you no matter what the cost? What would you say then?”
“I’d ask you if one dance is worth your life.”
“With you.” Our eyes connected, and even without the dance, he was already moving me. He put a hand to his heart, and then offered it to me. I took it. He squeezed and a slight tremble below his skin echoed in my bones. “You have my heart as collateral.”
The song was slow, romantic, and the man could dance. He stared down at me, I stared up at him, and we glided.
“Tell me about yourself,” I whispered.
“My wife is a world-famous dancer.”
I didn’t even bother to hide my smile. “That’s your wife. Not you.”
“No.” He came in a little closer. “My wife is me. She’s the good in me. There’s no one that moves like she can. No other woman was meant to be my partner but her. She was made for me.”
“Then why are you dancing with me?” We turned in a swirl, and my dress moved as though it was made of bloodstained water. “Risking your life?”
“To prove the point.”
“I see.”
“I don’t think you do. My wife is the bravest being I know. She puts up with a man like me. I don’t deserve her. Never have.”
I put a hand to his cheek. “She couldn’t make it without you.”
“Tell me you can keep a secret.”
“I can,” I barely got out. “I’m good with secrets.”
“You seem the type. Virtuous.” He put his lips to my ear and the warmth of his breath made me shiver. “One of the reasons I married her was so that I could share her home. So I would never have to leave her.”
I made a noise between a laugh and a sob. He pulled me even closer, and we became silent for a few minutes, fading into each other, absorbing all that we had been missing.
“Dimmi,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to force me to look him in the eye. “Ho bisogno di sentirlo.”Tell me. I need to hear it.
“I—I was wrong.” My lip trembled and my voice was unsteady. “I was so wrong.”
He shook his head, eyes solid on mine, glistening in reflection to the flaming lamps set along the walls, mouth set into a severe line. He ran his thumb over my quivering lip. “That’s not what I need to hear.”
I narrowed my eyes, tears slipping through the cracks in my armor.“Non per scelta.”I sniffed. “Oh God, not by choice!” No, I’d never separate from him again, unless I had no choice.
He dipped me, and as I rose, he met me, our faces a breath away. His eyes journeyed from my eyes to my lips, and we stood that way without bothering to count time. We breathed in and out at opposite times—he shared his breath and I shared mine. My lungs rejoiced in the feel of him. My heart beat in time to his. My blood rushed in the same direction. My flesh reached out to touch him, to be one with him, and my bones whispered,Home, home, you’re home. Where he goes, you go.
“You smell so damn sweet.” He came in even closer, drawing the moment out. My chest rose and fell like I had been on a roller coaster. He ran his tongue over my lips, then took my bottom lip in his, sucking. “You taste even sweeter than you look.”
We came together in an explosion—a kiss that seemed to go on for eternity, but not long enough. God, he tasted so complex, like sin and redemption, and so spicy, like dragon’s blood and cinnamon. It was a searing fire that licked my tongue.
He pulled away a tad and I whimpered for the loss, for him, for more.More, more, more.
“Lento,”he repeated over and over, kissing me in time to the meaning of the word—slow. “I’m not leaving you again. I’m here. Stop crying.”
“Brando!” I held on to him so tightly. “I’m such a mess,” I mumbled into his chest.
“I’m here,” he said again, but almost too low for me to hear. Then my hand was in his, hidden in his strong embrace, and I teetered into his side, attempting to keep up. A sudden bolt of the mysterious that connected my soul to his made my blood start to hum with such ferocity that I became lightheaded. The blood in my veins fizzled instead of pumped.
