I made a dismissive sound. Then I extended my hand. “Will you dance with me?” Emma looked almost wounded when I asked. “Danilo—” “You always loved to dance.” “I did, when I had legs capable of dancing,” she hissed. I bent and slid one arm under her legs while the other supported her back before I lifted her out of her wheelchair. Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?” Her eyes scanning the crowd—everyone was watching. I didn’t care. If one of them said a single word, I’d make this a bloody wedding. “It’s my wedding, and I want a dance with my sister,” I said firmly as I held her against my
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