When he glanced at it for a moment, she whispered, “I’m not making you dance, I promise.” The low chuckle leaving him rumbled through her, and her body trembled when his warm hand wrapped around hers. “But I am.” Merrick’s gravelly response made her sway, and he had to steady her when she stared up at him. “You… you’re what?” Lessia asked, that lightheadedness returning when Merrick tugged at her hand, turning her back toward the dance floor. “Dancing.” “But…” Lessia frowned at him, bringing them both to a halt. “You don’t dance.” She must be drunker than she’d thought. Merrick laughed, a
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