“Hunter Barrett,” he says, and the employee nods, unhooks the velvet ropes, and lets us pass.
“What’s going on?” I whisper to Hunter as he guides me to the center of the ballroom.
When he lets go of my hand and turns to face me, his eyes are luminous. “I wanted to do something special, and Lou told me one of the items on your bucket list was to go to a ball and dance under twinkle lights since you missed all your senior dances. But I knew you wouldn’t want to risk being around that many strangers.”
The warmth I felt earlier spreads; I’m glowing from within—as if the candlelight surrounding us has permeated my body.
“I told you I have a friend that recommended we come here. What I didn’t mention is that he’s a regional manager for Marriott. He had the hotel manager here reserve the ballroom for us so we can have a private dance floor. No strangers’ sweat or germs to be found. Nothing to worry about—except for me stepping on your feet.”
I smile tremulously. I’m certain he’s going to be a fantastic dancer and that my toes are not in any danger.
Hunter bows as if we’re in aPride and Prejudicemovie, then holds out his hand and says, “So, Olivia Karlsson, may I have this dance?”
No one has ever done something so amazing for me before. I nod and take his hand. Hunter slides his other arm around me, his hand spreading across my lower spine. I curl my fingers over his very broad, strong shoulder, the way I’ve seen many people dance in the movies and competition TV shows.
“There’s no music,” I point out in a whisper, self-conscious of how fast my heart is beating and the way my hand trembles in his.
As if on cue, a soft ballad starts playing on hidden speakers, and Hunter begins to move, deftly guiding me in a swaying circle around the middle of the ballroom, beneath the glow of the twinkling lights and the chandeliers. With my heels, our faces are almost level, so I can stare into his gleaming eyes with only a slight tilt of my chin. I swallow when he pulls me closer so our bodies brush together. His fingers flex against my back when his legs move against mine. Every touch awakens something electric between us, hummingthrough my veins. Hunter brings our clasped hands in closer, pressing them against his chest.
“I’m sorry if I’m not a very good dancer,” I say, attempting to mask how completely undone I am from a mere dance.
Hunter’s eyes hold mine. “Can I confess something to you?”
My heart trips, but I manage to keep my feet steady. “Another round of confessions of a mess?”
He chuckles, a soft, husky sound that makes my stomach tighten. “Something like that.”
“Of course.” I’m held captive by the way he looks at me—like nothing else exists. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.
His throat works around a swallow, and then he says, “I can’t stop thinking about you. I wake up wanting to see you. I spend half my day trying to figure out how to make that happen. I can’t wait to find out what we’ll talk about next. I want to be as close to you as you’ll let me get. I want to—” He stops short, like the words are caught in his throat, his hands curling into the fabric at my back.
I watch him, breathless, every part of me aware of how close we are.
“This is crazy, right? That I feel this drawn to you? That being with you already feels like the only thing that makes sense?” His arm tightens around me, pulling me closer until his breath is ghosting over my mouth.
My heart races beneath my rib cage, the rush of blood making me lightheaded. I’m torn—caught between the urge to let everything spill out and the reflex to run before we both get hurt. He’s saying all the things I’ve longed to hear ... but fear steals my words.
“Say something,” Hunter pleads, low and rough. “Tell me I didn’t just ruin everything by being too honest.”
I meet his gaze—those beautiful, searching eyes that feel impossibly familiar, like I knew them in another life. Eyes I could fall into if I’m not careful. Eyes that tell me that with him, I’m safe. I’mhome.
And I find myself shaking my head. “No, you didn’t ruin anything. If you’re crazy for feeling that way ... then so am I. Because ... I feel the same way about you.”
Hunter makes a noise deep in his throat, his hand tightens once again on my lower back. I think we’ve stopped moving, but the ballroom continues to spin around us as his gaze drops to my mouth.
He releases my hand that he’s holding to his chest to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. He traces the curve of my jaw, and the world narrows to that single point of contact. My breath catches in my lungs; I think my heart might slam its way out of my chest, it’s beating so hard.
“You are so beautiful,” Hunter rasps. “Your heart, your soul. You are ...everything.” He swallows and then lowers his head toward mine so slowly he gives me more than enough time to back away, to turn away, to tell him to stop.
Instead, I lift my face to his.
His lips brush mine so softly I shiver. Lightning races through my veins from that featherlight touch. He pauses with his mouth a fraction of an inch away. I wonder if he’s as stunned as I am by the power of that all-too-brief kiss. My entire body trembles.
And then he kisses me again, but this time, he pulls me flush against his muscled body as his mouth moves over mine. I have to grab onto him, my fingers fisting in his shirt, to keep my knees from buckling. His hand delves into myhair, tilting my head so he can kiss me even more deeply. His lips are soft and firm all at once; he kisses me the way he does everything—with such intensity it takes my breath away. I’ve never felt anything close to the way I do right now, with his arms around me, his lips on mine.
A wolf whistle from somewhere nearby somehow infiltrates the rush of blood pounding in my ears and brings me back to my senses. We might be alone in the ballroom, but we are still in the middle of a resort property—and we apparently have an audience.
We break apart, both gasping and wide-eyed.
