Holiday Romance

Chapter 4: A Dance with the Past

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was almost soothing, but Isla Carter was anything but relaxed. After her intense exchange with Adrian on the balcony, she had done what she always did—shoved her emotions deep down where they couldn't surface.

But now, standing in the middle of the reception hall as the music pulsed and guests twirled around her, she felt the walls closing in. The champagne in her glass was doing little to dull the awareness prickling at her skin.

"You look like you're about to bolt," Tessa's voice teased as she sidled up next to her, her wedding dress shimmering under the chandelier lights.

"I'm fine," Isla replied, forcing a smile. "Just... taking it all in."

Tessa narrowed her eyes. "Taking in Adrian, more like."

Isla stiffened. "I’m not—"

"Isla." Tessa gave her a knowing look. "You forget how well I know you. You can pretend all you want, but I see the way you react to him."

"It doesn't matter," Isla insisted. "We’re over."

Before Tessa could respond, the DJ’s voice echoed through the hall. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the traditional dance! Grab a partner and make your way to the dance floor."

Isla took a step back, preparing to make a swift exit, but before she could move, a strong hand clasped hers.

Her breath caught. She knew that touch. Even after all these years.

"Dance with me," Adrian said softly.

She turned to face him, her heart pounding. He looked devastating in his tailored navy suit, the top button undone just enough to hint at the tan skin beneath. His blue eyes bore into hers, filled with something unreadable.

"Adrian, I don’t think—"

"It’s just a dance, Isla. Nothing more."

But she knew better. Nothing with Adrian was ever just anything.

Against her better judgment, she let him lead her onto the dance floor. The moment his hands settled on her waist, a jolt of electricity shot through her. It was as if no time had passed, as if they were still the couple who once believed in forever.

The music was slow, intimate. The air between them heavy with unspoken words.

"You always were a terrible liar," Adrian murmured.

She tilted her chin defiantly. "Excuse me?"

"You say we’re over, but your body tells a different story."

Her pulse spiked. "Don’t flatter yourself."

He chuckled, the rich sound sending a shiver down her spine. "Oh, Isla. I don’t have to. You’re doing that all on your own."

She scowled but couldn't ignore the way her body betrayed her. The warmth of his hands, the way he moved with effortless grace—it was intoxicating. And terrifying.

As the song neared its end, Adrian leaned in, his lips hovering near her ear. "Tell me you don’t feel this, and I’ll walk away."

Isla’s breath hitched. The words were there, right on the tip of her tongue.

But she couldn’t say them.

Because they would be a lie.