The tensed muscles in my back relaxed. I knew it was true. I hadn’t even recognized myself in the mirror. “I’ve never seen you at any gathering, yet you seem comfortable here. Do you dance?”
He smiled roguishly and held out his hand. “I do.”
He pulled me onto the dance floor, straight into the middle of an already formed set. Bad form, but he somehow seemed above the censure.
And that reason was that he couldmove.
There were three types of men among the gilded. The ones who were forced to dance, the ones who seemed to enjoy it and were always available to partner, and the ones who made it an art form. Gabriel Noble was definitely one of the latter.
It was like dancing with liquid. Likebeing liquid. Every sweep and curl executed with precision and flair. Never had I had a partner who could move like this. Never had I been twisted and handled and shown off on the floor.
Never had I met a man like Gabriel Noble.
Was he lacking in anything? Besides his social skills when he was being insufferable.
Although other than the first few days, he had been less so—not counting the barbs that he still tossed every so often. But the affection he displayed for his brother and the people with whom he worked told a different story to mine.
And even with the continued simmer of animosity, every time I had been in a situation where I could have been harmed—with my brother (not that he would have), the other prisoners, or the negotiants—he had taken definitive action.
If you were in Noble’s circle, you were obviously under his protection.
He smiled as he showed me off in a turn. I knew I looked like a wonderful dancer in that moment. Because even though I was passably good,hemade me lookgreat.
He brought me close again and his green eyes burned into me, unhidden by the mask. They had looked that way earlier, when he had been about to kiss me. Heat swept through me, but he simply spun me again.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I managed, when we were once more aligned together.
“Which one was that?” His body pressed harder against mine.
“Do you attend these functions often?”
“No.” He twirled me out, then back in again. “Just John’s masquerades. Sometimes I think he holds them so often because he knows I will attend.”
“You are good friends? I thought you disliked anyone gilded-born?”
His muscles tensed beneath my glove. “John and I have been friends a long time. And I don’t dislike everyone in the gilded.”
“If you say so.”
He spun me so my breath caught. My feet barely touched the floor.
“I do.”
“Where did you learn to dance like this?”
“Down by the docks, of course.”
The heat scorching my cheeks and the excitement from dancing negated my withering glare. The music swelled as he twirled me again, the crescendo wrapping around us like a silken wind. The ballroom’s fairy lights flickered, the charged air hummed.
“My mother, if you must know.”
“You dance like this with your mother?”
“I was required to stand in during dance training at one time in my life. The body doesn’t forget.”
“Dance training, where?”
He pulled me against him again as we turned and his green eyes turned smoky as he lowered his head. My breath caught and I had the inane thought that this kissing activity really required practicingright now.
