Elia stepped slightly closer. “I believe you,” she replied. “But if you stand here looking like that, the entire room will know something is wrong.”
For a moment he said nothing. His eyes searched her face as though measuring whether she understood the situation at all.“He threatened you,” Magnus said atlast.
“He tried,” Elia corrected. “There’s a difference.” She tilted her head toward the dance floor where couples had begun moving in graceful circles under the chandeliers. “Dance with me.”
Magnus blinked once, clearly not expecting the request.“Elia—”
“You’re angry,” she continued calmly. “Everyone can see it. If you don’t want questions, you should look like a man enjoying the evening instead of planning someone’s funeral.” A faint hint of humor touched her voice. “Come dance.”
For a second she thought he might refuse.Then his hand closed around hers.The gesture was sudden enough that it caught her off guard. Magnus guided her onto the dance floor with decisive certainty, his palm settling at her waist as the orchestra carried the rhythm forward. The contact was firm, almost possessive, his fingers spreading slightly against the silk of hergown.
He began moving with impressive grace, leading her easily into the pattern of the dance. Up close the heat of his anger was unmistakable. His grip was a fraction tighter than it needed to be, his breathing deeper than usual.
“You’re still furious,” Elia murmured.
“Yes,” Magnus said simply.
She studied him for a moment as they spun across the floor. “Because of what he said to me?”
“Because he thought he could say it,” Magnus replied.
The blunt answer sent an unexpected warmth through her chest.The music carried them through another turn. The diamonds at her throat flashed under the lights as she moved. Magnus’s gaze flicked to them briefly before returningto herface.
“You shouldn’t have to hear threats like that,” hesaid.
“I’ve heard worse,” Elia answered.
His hand tightened at her waist.“Not anymore,” he assured her.The certainty in his voice was almost frightening. The echo of that promise settled somewhere deep insideher.
They moved in silence for a few moments, the tension between them shifting into something warmer, more dangerous. Magnus’s anger hadn’t disappeared, but it had changed direction. Instead of burning outward it seemed to coil inward, gathering around the space betweenthem.
“You’re staring,” she observed.
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Why?”
His eyes moved over her face before answering. “Because the entire room is doing the same thing,” he said. “And I don’t like it.”The possessive honesty of the statement sent a quick pulse of heat through her. Elia forced her attention back to the rhythm of the music.
“Then perhaps we should step outside,” she suggested. “Fresh air might help your temper.”
Magnus hesitated.Then he guided her smoothly toward the edge of the dance floor.Without releasing her hand, he led her through a pair of tall glass doors and out onto the balcony overlooking the city lights. The cool night air wrapped around them instantly, carrying away the warmth and noise ofthe ballroom behind them. Hestopped only when they reached the stone railing.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
The city stretched below in glittering ribbons of light while the distant hum of traffic rose faintly from the streets. Magnus placed both hands on the railing as though grounding himself. The anger was still there. Elia could see it in the tension of his shoulders.
She stepped beside him. “You didn’t need to threaten him.”
Magnus looked down at her. “Yes,” he said. “I did. And if he comes near you again, Iwon’t stop at a threat.”
Chapter 12
THE COOL NIGHT AIRcut across Magnus’s skin like a blade meant to steady the heat still burning under it. Behind them, the ballroom glittered through tall glass doors, all chandeliers and polished laughter, but the sounds reaching him were dull and distant. Violins drifted outward. Crystal rang. Men negotiated with smiles they didn’t mean. Women in silk moved beneath gold light like living currency.
None of it touchedhim.
Tommaso Carbone’s voice still echoed in his head. The bastard’s proximity to Elia. The way Elia’s expression had changed when she returned to Magnus’s arms. The fact that she’d hidden the details until the dance gave her no other choice.
