Page 171 of Bone Year

Around us, couples have begun to move into the new song. Draven’s eyes haven’t left mine, but his hand stays at his side. Waiting.

“Draven.”

“Yes.”

“You promised me a distraction, not a dance.”

“I know.”

“So you’re going to ask me to dance anyway.”

“That depends.” He shifts his weight, and the line of his coat moves with him.

“On what.”

“On whether you can dance with me without losing your nerve for what comes after.”

I lift my chin. “I can do anything tonight.”

He almost smiles as he extends his hand, and the orchestra changes again.

I take his hand.

The warmth of his fingers settles around mine. He draws me toward him, slow and deliberate. He could close the distance in one motion, but he gives me time to step into him, and I do, and his other hand finds the small of my back and settles there in a way that makes me forget how to breathe.

His hand is wide enough to span half my back.

He hasn’t touched me like this since Holloweir.

My free hand finds his shoulder, and I feel the line of muscle under the black wool of his coat, his collarbone above the open collar at his throat, the slow steady pulse at the side of his neck. I have to remind myself that I’m supposed to know how to dance.

“Breathe, Rose.”

His voice is low against my temple.

“I’m breathing.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“Mmm.”

He turns me into the first count of the music, and my body remembers how to do this even when my mind has gone blank. He’s a better dancer than he should be. Vampire prince, raised at court, taught to move through a crowded room since he could walk. His hand at my back is doing half the work for both of us. He guides me through a turn I would have stumbled on, and on the way out of it his thumb shifts against the fabric of my dress, and a small fire lights low in my belly.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?”

“You know what.”

His mouth shifts into that almost smile again.

“I’ve waited months to put my hands on you, Rose. You’ll forgive me if I take a moment.”

I look up at him.

He looks down at me.