She moved closer to him and leaned in. “Maybe just a little?”
More than a little, but it was a completely different kind of fear. His was a fear of being abandoned again, and his was a fear of her being a willing participant in the Blagden’s schemes. Perhaps agreeing to be in their plans for him out of love or loyalty to his grandmother—like Harper. Willing or not, Miss Darling was a puppet too.
They left the dance hall together and walked toward her room.
“Let’s start tonight.”
She blinked her beguiling eyes. “The midnight bells rang a minute ago.”
“Will you turn to mist then?” he asked. “And you don’t want me to see?”
“No,” she laughed. It was a small, soft sound that permeated his flesh and warmed his blood and emboldened him to move a breath closer.
“Are you too sleepy to dance with me?”
“No,” she defended and pressed her knuckles to her temples, her cheeks. “I’m afraid we might not sleep at all.”
For the first time, he wanted to nod his agreement. If he had his way, it wouldn’t be because they were dancing. “What would be so bad about that?” he asked and gave her backside a short smack.
Before he drew his next breath, she spun around, her arm outstretched, her palm sailing toward his face. Her hand stopped a hair’s breadth away from his cheek. With a clenched jaw and fury in her gaze, she held her hand where it stopped.
Staring into her eyes, he was sorry he’d treated her with such careless disregard. For a moment he had thought she was like the others, ready to give in and go with him, even though he never went with any of them. He was wrong.
She wanted to slap his face. He wanted her to slap it too.
Reaching up, he covered her hand with his.
“I won’t be like the others and bring you pain,” she told him in a soft voice, then yanked her hand free. “But if you ever touch me again without my permission, I won’t hold back.”
“Forgive me,” he repented sincerely. Then, “I’m thoughtless.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she huffed and continued walking.
He leaped in front of her to stop her from leaving. “I’m not really. Not lately.”
“Not what?”
“Thoughtless. I think about you often.”
When she smiled, he joined her. “So? Do we begin our lessons tonight or do we go to bed to dream about dancing, instead of doing it?”
She kept him waiting while she considered it. “Alright, but let me get my dance clothes.”
Her dance clothes? Did she mean the tights and the short veil of a skirt that revealed the strength in her thighs? The oversized pink shirt with the wordDARTMOUTHon it, as if she belonged there…with him.
Ridiculous, he thought, continuing to her room. He didn’t belong with any woman. What woman would want a man whose heart was covered in barbed wire? No woman had touched his soul, especially not his heart.
But Aria Darling excited him. She soothed him by bringing amusement into his dreary days. He forgot the darkness when he was busy trying not to smile.
He promised to wait when she reached her door and disappeared inside. He wouldn’t react to her clothes. He felt his head for a fever, then shook it in disbelief when his hand returned cool. Why else would he continuously do what his head told him not to do? Why else would his heart beat so erratically around her? Why didn’t he want to separate from her?
He wondered about these things while he leaned against her door.
He wasn’t expecting it to open so quickly and almost tumbled inside. He caught himself before she caught him.
When he straightened, she turned her back to him, half-in and half-out of her room. “Can you untie me?”
“Untie you?” he repeated hollowly as fire shot down between his legs. “I don’t know—”