‘We could be dancing,’ he whispered. Drue followed his gaze, unwilling to let him go. ‘I thought you didn’t dance…’ The Warsword placed his hand on her waist and clasped his fingers around hers, drawing her to him, his body flush with hers as he guided her into a slow waltz. ‘There are many things I don’t do that I would gladly do for you,’ he murmured.
