The Grooms

The Dance

Her heart dropped to her toes. If he danced the way he drove, she'd be lucky to leave the dance floor with all of her limbs intact. "Yes, of course." Feeling like a woman approaching a firing squad, she rose and allowed him to lead her toward the dance floor.

At least the music was lovely, she mused. Slow, dreamy, heavy on the brass. A number of couples were taking advantage of it, so the dance floor was crowded. Crowded enough that Lin had hope her partner wouldn't feel compelled to plow through it, stumbling over her feet and wrenching her arms out of their sockets.

Then he stopped near the edge of the dance floor and turned her into his arms.

It was surprise, she decided, sheer surprise that had her mind fogging. Who would have believed that such a big man could move so well? The large hand at her waist wasn't rough or awkward, but it was very, very male. It made her outrageously aware there was only a thin barrier of silk between it and her skin.

The lights twinkled down, dancing over his face, over that not-quite-tamed mane of richly colored hair. His shoulders were so broad, she thought numbly. His eyes so blue.

She struggled to clear such ridiculous thoughts out of her mind and behave. "Your parents are wonderful people."

"I like them."

She was slim as a willow, he thought. A long-stemmed rose. He watched the lights play over her face, hardly aware he'd drawn her closer. Their bodies fit like two pieces of a complicated puzzle.

Her pulse quickened. Without thinking, she slid her hand over his shoulder so her fingers brushed the back of his neck. "Um..." What had they been talking about? "I'd forgotten how lovely Washington can be in the spring."

"Uh-huh." Desire heated up his spine, circled in his gut. Where the hell had it come from? "I want to sketch your face."

"Of course." She hadn't heard a word he was saying. She could only think that a woman could blissfully drown in those eyes. "I believe they're calling for rain tomorrow." A little sigh escaped when his fingers splayed over her back.

"Fine." If he dipped his head, he could have that mouth, find out if the taste of it would soothe the edges on this sudden clawing need, or sharpen it.

Then the music ended. Someone bumped them and shattered the thin glass bubble that seemed to have surrounded them.

Both of them stepped back. Both of them frowned.

"Thank you," Lin said, and her voice was carefully controlled again. "That was very nice."

"Yeah." He took her arm, keeping the contact very light, very impersonal. He wanted to get her back to the table, dump her and escape until his mind cleared

More than willing to cooperate, Lin let herself be guided through. She wanted to sit down quickly before her legs gave way.