“I don’t know anything about seduction,” she said, her voice quieter now. “It’s not my specialty.”
“Well,” Lucius said with a smirk, his teeth gleaming faintly in the low light, “it seems that tonight, I’ll have to teach you many things.”
Now, Tavia was the one feeling stressed.
It was one thing to pretend to be a wife—but seducing someone?
How could she seduce someone when she’d never even kissed anyone? Her stomach churned, and she looked down at her tea, watching the cinnamon flecks swirl in the amber liquid.
“What is it?” Lucius asked, his voice carrying a note of curiosity.
“Nothing.”
Tavia wasn’t ready to reveal her inexperience.
“We’ll start with something easier,” he said, his tone gentler now, “dancing.”
“Don’t we need music for that?”
Lucius put the tea down with deliberate care, then extended his hand toward her. His fingers were steady, though his expression held a trace of mischief.
“Time to make you that aristocratic bride I talked about.”
Begrudgingly, she put her tea down, the faint clink echoing in the quiet room, and took his hand. His warm and firm grip sent a subtle thrill up her arm.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, glancing at him from under her lashes.
“Maybe,” he said, pulling her gently into the living room, the soft pad of their steps muffled by the rug beneath their feet. “But it’s going to be exceedingly enjoyable.”
Lucius held out his hand, motioning for her to join him in the living room. Only moments ago, she had been ready to leave—ready to run away from thisFae Vamp. And yet, somehow, she shuffled into the living room and clasped his hand.
“Now,” he said, placing a hand on her back, “dancingis simple. The male leads, and don’t overthink it.”
Tavia frowned as she grabbed his hand, and he held it up in the traditional pose.
“Don’t we need music?” she asked.
“1-2-3, 1-2-3,” he started, saying the numbers softly as he began to move.
Tavia shook her head but decided to play along for now.
He dipped his shoulders and repeated, “1-2-3, 1-2-3,” speaking the rhythm as if the words should mean something more than just counting.
“1-2—”
He winced as she stepped on his left foot.
“Sorry.”
“No worries. Just relax.”
Tavia was finding it extremely difficult to relax.
There was no real music, and Lucius was becoming more of a complex character than she was ready to deal with. The nightmare from the previous night still lingered in her thoughts, leaving her feeling anything but at ease.
He started again. “1-2-3, 1-2-3.”
They moved around the living room, Tavia stepping on his feet at least three more times.
