She stumbles at first, her brow furrowing in concentration as she tries to match the heavy, syncopated beat, but I slow my pace, giving her time to find her footing.
“Relax.” I pull her closer. “Just follow my lead.”
She nods, and gradually, she moves with me. Her body fits perfectly against mine, like she was always meant to be here, wrapped in my shadow. Her heat rushes a fever through myblood, a delicate warmth I want to garner and protect like the rarest treasure.
The music swells, the bass dropping into something visceral and deep. I spin her, her skirt flaring out like a silk-wrapped dream, and for a second, I’m afraid she might float away. She laughs, mirth dancing all over her face, and I pull her back in, catching her firmly against my chest.
Iensnareher.
The music slows until we just sway together. Her breath is warm against my neck, her heart fluttering against my chest.
Our lips brush, barely touching, the masks in the way, but it’s enough to level my insides. Her scent is wrapped in perfume, but a little sweetness and coffee, hinting at how she likely tried the tiramisu.
“Liam,” she whispers.
“Aye, Luv?”
“I need a drink.”
I chuckle, low and rough. “Aye. Let’s get you one.”
I lead her off the dance floor, my hand never leaving the small of her back. A swarm of men surrounds River, all vying for her attention, and Lexie shakes her head with an airy laugh.
“No surprise there,” she says.
We approach the bar, and I order a rare Irish whiskey—Redbreast 21, if they’ve got it. The bartender nods and pours me a glass.
“And for the lady?” he asks.
“Vodka on the rocks,” she says.
I raise a brow, but she just shrugs.
The bartender hands her the glass, and she downs it in one gulp.
I blink. “Impressive.”
“Out of my shell. Living in the moment. Brett never let me drink,” she mutters, her lips tugging into a glower. “Didn’t stop him.”
“Did he?—”
“Not all abusers use their fists,” she interrupts, her lips pressing tight. She nods for another. “The best ones make you feel like the villain. Or oversensitive drama queen, in my case.”
She downs the next one, but when the bartender offers her another, she says no. Good girl.
Trailing my knuckles along her bare arm, I lower my head to kiss her cheek, my lips near her ear. “I know villains, Darlin’. I break bread with ‘em, and I bury ‘em. You’re the furthest thing. You’re the absolution I don’t deserve. And he could never know how to handle a girl who has more heart than he has soul. So let me be the villain who will love your light and burn the world to keep you safe.”
She blinks, stares at me, then blinks again. The perceptiveness in her features, the adoration, she accepts me, surrenders to me. When she licks her lips, I’ve never been jealous of a tongue until now.
Finally, she leans in, a little dazed. “Could you pinch me again?”
I take her hand. “No, but let us test how much I may help with your endeavor to live in the moment…out of your shell.”
A spark of mischief flashes there.
I lead her through the manor, past the ballroom, down a quiet corridor lit only by candlelight.
At the end of the hall, I push open a set of French doors, revealing a beautiful stone balcony. It’s rotund, curved like a half-moon, with ornate railings and stone pillars. Below, the gardens stretch out in the moonlight, hedges trimmed into intricate patterns, fountains frozen mid-spray, and pathways winding through the shadows.
