Amity looked at his outstretched hand for a long moment, then slowly placed her fingers in his. "Just this once," she said, though her voice carried a warmth that suggested she wanted more than once.
Jake drew her into his arms, and they began to move to the distant waltz. Here on the deck, with only the stars as witnesses, the careful boundaries of their upbringing seemed to dissolve. Amity was lighter than he'd expected, following his lead with the same grace she brought to her violin.
"You dance well for a shipping magnate," she murmured, close enough that he could smell her perfume—something subtle and expensive that probably cost more than most people's monthly salary.
"You dance well for someone who claims to reject high society," he countered.
"Finishing school," she admitted wi
