Aurienne tossed her shoes to the side and took Mordaunt’s hand. “Very well. I will dance as nature intended.” “Barefoot, tipsy, and with flowers in your hair.” “You paint a lovely picture.” “You are a lovely picture.” “I thought I was an uptight little fusspot?” Aurienne was rewarded by one of Mordaunt’s brilliant smiles. “Do you know,” he said, “sometimes I don’t mind being wrong?”
