So close.

So fucking close to everything being ruined.

My mind was racing as I led Evelyn out of the room with no clear destination in mind. I paused once we were in the hall, trying to decide what the hell I was doing.

“Where are we going?”

I turned to face her after the quiet question, frowning when I saw her wide, nervous eyes. Was she afraid?

I was acting a little crazy.

The sudden awareness of how off-putting I was behaving was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on me.

I loosened my grip on her hand and said, “Not far.”

The ballroom didn’t have a deck attached to it but there was a room on the other side that was mostly cleared out that I could use to improvise. I led her there, watching with interest as she took in her new surroundings.

“This is the music room,” I needlessly explained, gesturing to the piano. “It’s mostly for show. Bryan never uses it.”

A mistake. The moment I said his name, the suspicion returned to her eyes. Before she had a chance to voice any of the thousand questions that were undoubtedly cycling through her head, I stepped closer and grabbed her hand again.

She was clearly surprised yet she made no protest as I raised her hand in the air and guided her into a twirl. Her cheeks turned pink when I moved in and took hold of her hip with my free hand. The music was loud enough to hear through the walls and she quickly caught on, hesitantly resting her hand on my shoulder as we started to move together.

“You didn’t want to dance in the ballroom?”

“Not particularly. I’m not a big fan of dancing in public.”

“Why not? You’re good at it.”

“Thank you. So are you,” I complimented genuinely, pleased when her blush deepened. “As for your question, dancing has always felt like a very intimate act to me. I do love to dance, but I prefer to do it away from prying eyes.”

“I get that,” she agreed with a small smile. “I like to dance as well, but sometimes it’s... kind of embarrassing.”

“How so?”

“You know how people say to picture the audience naked to help with stage fright? I’ve never been able to do that. It always ends up the opposite. When I’m in the middle of a crowd or I know people are looking at me—I feel like I’m naked.”

Poor thing. The fact was that a woman like her would be watched while dancing—or doing anything else for that matter—so there was nothing I could really say to console her. Besides, I was far too focused on the mental image her words had developed.

Lovely.

As I was zoning out into my own little world, I heard her huff in annoyance. I raised an eyebrow and looked down to find her staring up at me with a reluctant expression.

“What’s with the look? Do you think I’m crazy for feeling that way?”

“Not at all. I’m simply imagining you naked now.”

“Oh my God!” she shrieked, pulling her hands away to cover her face. “Do you say that to every woman you dance with?”

“I can’t remember the last time I danced with a woman. I don’t date much.”

“Gee, I can’t imagine why.”

Such a spitfire. God, I loved it.

I leaned toward her ear and huskily whispered, “Keep going.”

“W-What?”

“Your sarcastic tone is quite a turn-on. Please continue.”

“You’re deranged!”

“Perhaps. I’m also very attractive. Isn’t that why you’re blushing right now? Or are you imagining me naked as well? I’m content with either scenario.”

“You’re such a—gah! I don’t even know what you are. A pervert?”

“I know you’re not that naive, kitten. You know very well that any man you said those words to wouldn’t be able to stop himself from picturing you dancing naked. It’s a perfectly natural response.”

“But most men wouldn’t say it right to the woman’s face.”

“I see your point, but don’t forget that you asked for the reason behind my look. Do I not get points for honesty?”

Evelyn’s anger seemed to deflate at that and she gave me a wary look that made me tense. For a terrible moment, I tried to figure out if I had said something that could have given myself away.

But she stepped back toward me and placed her hand on my shoulder, ready to continue our dance. Relief flooded through me as I took her hand in mine. Crisis averted.

“I’m still mad at you, you know.”

“For what?”

“We made a deal.”

I guided her into another twirl as I said, “Ah, yes. For the name of the host. I still intend to give it to you.”

“When it suits you.”

“Precisely.”

A comfortable silence descended as we continued to dance, but I knew it wouldn’t last. She was so curious about who invited her to this party that she couldn’t help herself. Not that I could blame her for it.

With a sigh, I stared down into her eyes and repeated her earlier words.

“What’s with the look?”

“If I ask you a question, will you give me another honest answer?”

I hesitated. I did want to be completely honest with her—just not right away. I still had a few things to do before letting everything out.

“If the question is within reason,” I said evenly, hoping she would understand without a full explanation.

Her feet paused and I followed her lead. With the thorough way she seemed to be considering her words, she obviously understood that I wouldn’t answer anything too revealing.

Smart girl.

I could see it in her eyes when she finally settled on a question. The hesitation melted from her expression, replaced with a mask that hid her emotions as she softly asked, “Do you know me?”

My hand tightened on her hip and I let her palm fall from mine. It was such a simple question—one that might not even give it away—but I was terrified to answer.

What if she did put it together? Could I adapt my plan to the turn of events?

The desperate look on her face made my heart pound. She needed an answer, I realized that. And yet...

I wasn’t ready.

I needed something first.

With my hand already on her hip, it was an easy move to pull her flush against me. I cupped her chin and tilted her head up with my other hand, my fingers trailing across the skin that rested below the edge of her mask before I fanned them out to cover her cheek.

Soft. Mine.

She looked like she was going to say something—her pretty lips parting a fraction of an inch as her eyelids softly fluttered. When no words escaped and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, I knew I wasn’t going to get a better moment than this one.

Slowly, I lowered my head to hers. There was more than enough time for her to push me away or step back. I heard her shaky inhalation as I hovered with my lips a mere inch from hers.

Even though I was certain she wanted it as much as I did, I refused to move in without explicit consent. I liked to think of myself as a gentleman, after all.

“May I kiss you?”

She pushed her lips up against mine and I had my answer.