Before I can respond, he stands and announces, “Let's dance!"
There is clapping at his proclamation as everyone stands and makes their way to the ballroom. Ambrose offers his hand and I take it.
“I'll have the first," he says and I don't argue.
We are the first on the floor, taking up the waltz as others file in.
“Do you ever get used to people watching you?" I ask him. I can feel his hand at my waist, burning through my corset to my core.
“Focus on me, Hera," he says, and I do.
I focus on his steps, guiding me around the dance floor. I focus on my hand in his and the way he watches me like he's breathing in my every movement with bated breath.
I don't understand why I'm feeling this way…this pull toward him is becoming difficult to ignore. The man I was ready to murder for m
