“Really.” She poked at her cake with the tip of her fork and lifted a shoulder, saying nothing. “The dancing starts soon,” he said. “Want to dance with me?” Her eyes jumped to his face. “You want to dance? With me?” “Yeah, I want to dance with you.” His lips curved into a smile, transforming his face from severe and dangerous to wildly handsome. Oh, this man. “I, um ...” She put her fork down, sensing this was important. “It looks bad if— Why?” “I don’t care what people think. It’s just a dance, Esme,” he said with a careless grin. But it wasn’t just a dance. It was more than that. She was in
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