“This is ridiculous. I’m awful,” she said, pulling away from him.
He grasped her waist and tugged her back, bumping against his chest.
“You’re not awful,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Just a bit uptight. Close your eyes, and don’t think about it. Just move. 1-2-3, 1-2-3.”
This time, with her eyes closed, his voice took on a melodic tone as though he were singing the counts. She focused on the way his hands held her, on how their hips seemed to move in sync.
And suddenly, she was dancing.
He moved a little quicker, pulling her closer. His head rested against the top of hers, his breath tickling her ear. He continued counting softly as they swayed, their movements falling effortlessly into rhythm.
After some time, she stopped stepping on his feet. She didn’t realize how long they had been dancing, but she found it difficult to stop.
His hand rested on her hip, his fingers splayedagainst her back. He kept repeating the counts, gently swaying her around the room.
At some point, he moved her arms around his neck and both of his hands were at her waist.
Tavia had seen dancing in taverns before and knew that the kind of dance performed at a ball wasn’t this. And yet, she couldn’t pull away—because it felt right. She didn’t understand why or how.
She had only known Lucius for days. He was avampyre. And yet, at the same time, she had never been closer to someone. It was as if they danced to the same rhythm constantly, and there was a strange comfort between them.
She was enjoying it.
But what would happen after the heist?
Surely, Lucius and she would go their separate ways. And this friendship—if that’s what you could call it—would end.
Lucius had stopped counting, but he still didn’t let her go. They swayed around the warm living room, the fire crackling softly in the fireplace. She didn’t open her eyes or want the moment to stop.
She had told herself not to get lost, but she wasslipping.
Maybe this was her fault. She had been alone for two years, living in the shadows, afraid to make any connection because someone would steal what little she had.
And yet, she didn’t have to worry about Lucius stealing from her, because she had nothing to offer someone like him.
And after he dumped out that macabre collection of blood, she was beginning to think he was more than just avampyre. She wanted to know more about him.
His hands slid up her back, sending a slight, exhilarating thrill through her. She realized that if she stayed too close, the desire to do more than just dance would overtake her thoughts—and she wasn’t ready for that.
With great willpower, she pulled away, not daring to look into his eyes. She was afraid that if she met his hungry gaze, everything she felt would be reflected in those emerald green eyes, and then she would be helpless.
Lucius clapped—a slow, deliberate clap—and when she dared to glance at him, he smiled.
“Well done,” he said. “Well done.”
She gazed up at him, realizing this heist she’d gotten involved with was becoming more dangerous by the moment.
If she had learned anything from life on the streets, it was this: you never let your heart be stolen.
And that’s exactly what was happening.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Arhythmic chopping rustled her awake, and she woke, reaching for a knife that wasn’t there.
It took her a few moments to recognize her surroundings.
Too many nights she’d fallen asleep under the wrong tree, and either had her food stolen by a hungry critter, or someone trying to take her coin purse.
