He grinned. “Yes, but I wanted to ask you to dance.”
“I thought you didn’t like dancing?”
“What can I say? You’ve inspired me to try to change my mind.”
She snorted. “Very funny.” The music rose in a graceful swell, the lilting rhythm of a waltz—a dance Josephine had definitely never learned. “Unfortunately, I don’t know how to waltz.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
She swallowed, her pulse quickening, as he took her hand, the warmth of his fingers steady against hers, his other palm settling at her waist with practiced ease. He tugged her toward the dance floor but she hesitated.
“This is the part where you move with me.” Amusement laced his voice.
“I told you, I don’t know how.” The words tumbled out in a paralyzed whisper.
His thumb brushed lightly over the back of her hand, a fleeting reassurance. “Follow my lead, and I’ll teach you.”
The way he said it, full of command and assurance, gave her no option other than to agree. He moved with effortless confidence, each step measured, while she fought to match his lead, her muscles taut with the strain of keeping pace. The steps were unfamiliar, the movements too fluid, too close. She concentrated on her footing, wary of tangling her feet with his, but he kept his hand steady at her waist, his fingers a silent guide.
“Trust me.” His voice came soft and her fingers curled slightly against his shoulder, though whether in agreement or unease, she wasn’t sure.
As they glided through a turn, he drew her close and the heady scent of sandalwood unraveled what little reluctance remained. The music grew louder, and he increased their pace, his hold never faltering.
“Better,” he murmured. His breath stirred against her temple,sending heat curling low in her stomach.
She decided in that instant that she very much liked the waltz.
The music carried them through another turn, her steps growing steadier. A happy sigh escaped her as the room blurred around them, the flicker of candlelight and murmur of voices fading beneath the steady rhythm of their steps. She focused on the movement, on the warmth of his hand at her back.
“Were you able to find any more information to help you in your search for Thorne?” Her voice came thick and she drew in a steadying breath.
“The ship carried archived naval orders. The survivors we talked to said Thorne and his men took them off the ship before sinking it.” Another turn loosened their hands and separated them by an arm’s length.
“What do you think he was looking for in them?”
He drew her back in, his hold steady, his gaze unwavering. “We’re not sure. Thorne used to be a navy captain, so it may have been he’s searching for records of an event that happened during his service. Maybe something that happened to cause his wife to be targeted.”
“His wife?”
He pressed his eyes shut. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”
Josephine swallowed, thinking back to all she knew about Thorne. It wasn’t much. But no one had ever mentioned a wife. She filed the knowledge away. “Perhaps retribution for a ship he captured?”
“Perhaps.” He didn’t sound convinced.
The music began to wind down and the lieutenant slowed their steps, guiding them toward the edge of the dance floor. The last notes echoed softly in the room, leaving a quiet stillness in their wake.
His ocean-hued eyes stayed locked on hers. “Care to join me for a stroll outside? We may be in the city, but I’m sure they’ve got a garden out back.”
She nodded and slipped her hand into his elbow. Outside, theytook a turn around the busy verandah before he led her down the stairs. A stone pathway led them between tall hedges and the sounds of the party began to fade. They came to a stop in a small clearing, moonlight reflecting off a statue in the center.
Lieutenant Caldwell’s gaze lingered on it before dropping to her. “Did you enjoy your first waltz?”
The intensity in his eyes sent her pulse racing and all she could do was nod, her throat tight, the air between them suddenly thick. He stepped closer, just enough to feel the heat of him, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the night air slid all the way down to her toes. Time seemed to slow, each beat of her heart thumping against her chest as he slowly leaned down.
His fingertips grazed her neck. Her jaw. A sweet shudder passed through Josephine as his mouth paused a hairsbreadth from hers. And then, the softest touch, a barely there brush of warmth against her lips. Her breath hitched as her eyelids fluttered shut.
The faint scrape of a boot against stone came from nearby, and Josephine’s eyes snapped open. A shape materialized in the shadows behind the lieutenant and she gasped. His hand dropped to his side and he spun.
