He gazes down. “People are staring. You should smile.”
“I don’t want to,” I snap.
“Perhaps you don’t know how.” His eyes are begging me to prove him right. So I give him a wide smile, keeping my mouth tight. “You look like you’re going to vomit, which I suppose for you is the norm.”
He. Is. The. Worst. I’m so mad that I punch my heel into his foot.
Of course he doesn’t miss one step, but his eyes tighten. “We’ve reached the physical-battery stage of our relationship, I see.”
“We don’t have a relationship.”
“Well aware and thankful for it.”
I lift my nose. “I don’t date arrogant men anyway.”
“And I don’t date pukers.”
My eyes narrow. “Everyone pukes.”
“Notonpeople.”
“Make one mistake and it gets held against me for the rest of my life.” I think about that a moment. “Only horrible people hold a single mistake against a person. People who have no social skills and zero hobbies.”
“Trust me. I have social skills.”
“Compared to what? A walnut?”
One side of his mouth twitches. “And since I have no hobbies, I suppose you have extravagant ones like sailing or spelling men to fall in love with you.”
“No. I read. Do you?”
“Read?” He sneers in disgust. “No.”
He says it so darkly, like he actually despises reading. In my opinion, those who dislike puppies and kittens as well as nonreaders are without souls.
I knew he was soulless.
“You just haven’t met the right book,” I tell him.
His fingers harden slightly around mine. “The right book? There’s no right book.”
“Spoken by a true reader hater.”
“And how would you know what the right book is?”
Before I can answer, he lifts his chin, and I’m left wondering how in the world he was blessed with such amazing genes. How could that face end up on such an arrogant ass?
The thought makes a sincere smile turn up my lips.
“Ah. Shecansmile.”
I balk, feeling naked under his glittering eyes. “Given your company I’m surprised I managed it at all.”
He huffs, and it’s the closest thing to laughter I’ve heardfrom him. For some crazy-strange reason, the sound warms me, and my skin flushes all the way to my ears.
As we continue dancing, he turns me with an ease that’s surprising. Now I’ve gone to a lot of witch balls, and no, I’m still not a great dancer, but none of my male partners were ever as good as him. All those wizards used magic to keep their steps in time, but I sense no magic from him. Yeah. Even though I can’t work it, I can feel it.
“I’m curious,” he murmurs as his gaze scans the crowd of magicals—men and women combined. No, my sisters and I aren’t the only females present.
