“That was quite incredible. You are an outstanding dancer,” a deep male voice says to me, proving my point. This man has an accent. I’m no expert, but it sounds Russian or eastern European with the way his lips wrap around the w making it sound more like a v. I don’t respond to his compliment, focusing instead on getting my pulse back to a less dangerous beat and trying not to succumb to the black spots threatening my vision. He slowly lowers himself into a crouch beside me and I see a white shirt rolled up to the elbows to reveal tan skin and dark hair covering thick forearms. “Look at me,
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