Read Online Steele-Faced (Daggers & Steele Book 6) by Alex P. Berg - Free Book Online
Authors: Alex P. Berg
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comparison. I led Steele past the stage, where a string quintet sat with instruments ready, to a section of armchairs at the perimeter that still hadn’t been filled by guest posteriors.
The other gentlemen in the room had left the chairs for the ladies, so I did the same, waving my hand at a spot as the music began to play. “Care for a seat?”
“I would, but…” Shay tilted her head toward the dance floor.
I glanced at the quintet. “Is this a waltz?”
Shay smiled. “I don’t have the best ear for music, but this sounds like three-quarter time to me. Which would mean it is.”
Couples streamed onto the dance floor. “Just my luck. Might as well get to it, then.”
“Again, if you’re not feeling this…”
“No,” I said. “And stop doubting me. Now, if you’d join me for a dance, my lady?”
Steele seemed taken aback at my tone, but not offended. Perhaps she hadn’t expected me to take charge. Either way, she took my hand and allowed me to lead her to the dance floor.
The tiny agitator deep inside me screamed at the top of his lungs, yelling that I had no idea what I was doing and was about to make a fool of myself, but I ignored him. He kept yelling as I grasped Steele’s right hand in my left and held my arm firmly out at my side. He kept yelling as I wrapped my right arm around her midsection, placed my hand against the middle of her back, and pushed her firmly against my right hip. Still he yelled as I met her gaze, and in a moment of clarity, I understood the protest.
I wasn’t worried about making a fool of myself, or of proving myself a poor dancer, or even of providing my soon to be poker competitors with an inkling as to my true identity of a man not of means. I was afraid of disappointing Shay. Unnaturally afraid, given my rational knowledge of Shay’s romantic interest in me, but afraid nonetheless.
Shay smiled at me, a genuine, heartfelt smile of affection like nothing I’d ever seen her give to anyone else, a radiant yet subtle, kind and caring smile that crinkled the corners of her lips and eyes alike. “Ready?”
The agitator rose inside my head. I downed him with a swift elbow to the face. “Absolutely.”
I waited for the beat of the music to repeat and launched into the steps, leading Steele with a firm hand. Forward and right, close step, back and left, repeat, twirling a quarter turn with each movement. It took a fair mental effort to maintain, but only for three or four repetitions of the whole. At that point, the cycle became routine, and my mind and body alike relaxed. I forced my frame rigid as mandated by the dance, but I began to enjoy it, feel the bouncing rhythm of the waltz and the flow of the quintet’s strings and so much more. My handhold with Shay became more than a point of contact, and with each full rotation, our bodies moved together in greater sync.
Steele kept her head titled slightly to the side, as was the style, but I noticed her glancing at me.
“Can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?” I said. “Is it the tuxedo or the shave? Because I could ramp up my self-grooming regimen without too much pain. The clothes on the other hand…”
Shay turned her head and smiled. “You’re a far better dancer than I expected.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment without knowing your expectations.”
“It’s a compliment.”
Shay turned her head back, and I dared to be brave. I led her into a spin turn. Shay took it without missing a step, her dress whipping around and slapping me on the shins. Thanks to my success, I tried my hand at a double reverse spin, which proceeded with similar results.
Round and round we danced, Shay spinning and twirling and showing me an enticing stretch of bare back with each turn. Her arms lengthened and became more elegant. The music flowed through us, and our bodies grew closer with every rotation. Sweat beaded at my temples and at the small of my back. Shay’s lilac perfume swirled around me, a musky,
The other gentlemen in the room had left the chairs for the ladies, so I did the same, waving my hand at a spot as the music began to play. “Care for a seat?”
“I would, but…” Shay tilted her head toward the dance floor.
I glanced at the quintet. “Is this a waltz?”
Shay smiled. “I don’t have the best ear for music, but this sounds like three-quarter time to me. Which would mean it is.”
Couples streamed onto the dance floor. “Just my luck. Might as well get to it, then.”
“Again, if you’re not feeling this…”
“No,” I said. “And stop doubting me. Now, if you’d join me for a dance, my lady?”
Steele seemed taken aback at my tone, but not offended. Perhaps she hadn’t expected me to take charge. Either way, she took my hand and allowed me to lead her to the dance floor.
The tiny agitator deep inside me screamed at the top of his lungs, yelling that I had no idea what I was doing and was about to make a fool of myself, but I ignored him. He kept yelling as I grasped Steele’s right hand in my left and held my arm firmly out at my side. He kept yelling as I wrapped my right arm around her midsection, placed my hand against the middle of her back, and pushed her firmly against my right hip. Still he yelled as I met her gaze, and in a moment of clarity, I understood the protest.
I wasn’t worried about making a fool of myself, or of proving myself a poor dancer, or even of providing my soon to be poker competitors with an inkling as to my true identity of a man not of means. I was afraid of disappointing Shay. Unnaturally afraid, given my rational knowledge of Shay’s romantic interest in me, but afraid nonetheless.
Shay smiled at me, a genuine, heartfelt smile of affection like nothing I’d ever seen her give to anyone else, a radiant yet subtle, kind and caring smile that crinkled the corners of her lips and eyes alike. “Ready?”
The agitator rose inside my head. I downed him with a swift elbow to the face. “Absolutely.”
I waited for the beat of the music to repeat and launched into the steps, leading Steele with a firm hand. Forward and right, close step, back and left, repeat, twirling a quarter turn with each movement. It took a fair mental effort to maintain, but only for three or four repetitions of the whole. At that point, the cycle became routine, and my mind and body alike relaxed. I forced my frame rigid as mandated by the dance, but I began to enjoy it, feel the bouncing rhythm of the waltz and the flow of the quintet’s strings and so much more. My handhold with Shay became more than a point of contact, and with each full rotation, our bodies moved together in greater sync.
Steele kept her head titled slightly to the side, as was the style, but I noticed her glancing at me.
“Can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?” I said. “Is it the tuxedo or the shave? Because I could ramp up my self-grooming regimen without too much pain. The clothes on the other hand…”
Shay turned her head and smiled. “You’re a far better dancer than I expected.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment without knowing your expectations.”
“It’s a compliment.”
Shay turned her head back, and I dared to be brave. I led her into a spin turn. Shay took it without missing a step, her dress whipping around and slapping me on the shins. Thanks to my success, I tried my hand at a double reverse spin, which proceeded with similar results.
Round and round we danced, Shay spinning and twirling and showing me an enticing stretch of bare back with each turn. Her arms lengthened and became more elegant. The music flowed through us, and our bodies grew closer with every rotation. Sweat beaded at my temples and at the small of my back. Shay’s lilac perfume swirled around me, a musky,
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