A soft chuckle fell from Dante’s lips. And then he extended his hand.
Violette's eyes widened in surprise, as if he'd done something blatantly strange.
“Are you inviting me for a dance or there's something on your sleeve?” Her eyes stared at his palm like he was holding a poison or his hand was simply poison itself. It felt as if he offered her something absolutely obscene instead of an innocent dance.
A complacent smile twitched on the corners of his mouth as his gaze trailed to her.
Her fingers squished the soft fabric of her dress. “You didn't tell me we'll be dancing together.”
“I didn't tell you a lot of things, did I?” His arm still extended, offering her his company for just one dance. One dance…it's not hard, she can do it. Nothing will happen if she'll just put her hand in his and let the light absorb their presence between other silhouettes. Though she looked at him suspiciously.
“Let's practice one more time to not embarrass you in front of Adrogans,” he said with an encouraging smile.
“Oh, yes, because being embarrassed in front of all of these people is better?”
“Come on. Who cares what they say? They're not your goal tonight.”
She looked at his palm again, still frozen in the air. One dance, right? What could possibly go wrong? She slowly landed her palm on his and let him lead her into the heart of the evening.
Their fingers interlocked, his hand resting on her waist, hers fell on his strong shoulder. She tried to avoid his gaze, the nerves knotted inside her. Because of him? Because of the people around? Shecouldn't tell.
“What did I tell you about the eyes?” His voice sounded like a velvet blanket for a moment.
Violette raised her eyes. Perhaps for the first time not trying to disobey him. Her gaze was strained, the storm preparing itself. She tilted her head, showing that she was all in his attention, while Dante looked much calmer and carefree.
His moves were smooth. He was flowing on the floor between all these costumes and sparkly skirts, cutting through the air. He led her so casually and naturally like he was born in the ballroom, well, it was almost like that. His feet were flying upon the shiny floor, elegant and airy. She didn't notice how she was doing the same – he made everything look and feel so effortless, their hands intertwined over and over again as they were dancing, all while the skirt of her dress was flying in the air, repeating the moves of their legs.
“So how are you finding the evening?” He spoke first, his face matched the level of confidence of his moves.
She let herself think for a second and then said, “I think I could live this life, without all of these ridiculous rules of right tone, of course.” Her eyes escaped to the side for a split second. “But the mansion is beautiful, music is great. To be honest, I just really like my dress,” her confession earned her a soft smile, breaking through his shield.
“The dress is really elegant,” he stated dryly and after a short pause he added with a less restrained tone, “and you look not less gracious in it. You'reholding up very well.”
He spun her around before his hands caught her again. Their legs followed every beat of the beautiful symphony, the sweeping but graceful movements of their hands, and the unbreakable eye contact awakened strange feelings in Violette's chest. Her eyes explored every depth of his. If her eyes resembled a storm, his was a dark room with a dim sapphire light which rarely sparkled in this blackness. His brows drawn together in insistence, making Violette's lips separate, wondering what he was thinking about. The silence between them seemed too loud. She felt like he was looking through her the same way she was looking through him. Like he was exploring the very depth of her soul reflected in her eyes, trying to resolve what's going in her mind, as if he was no less curious about her than she was about him.
They appeared near a glass door leading to a little garden, the flowers bloomed behind them bathing in the moonlight.
He delicately turned her around in the dance.
“Now, to the less pleasant part, Little Witch,” he rasped and then his warm breath caressed her ear. “Or should I call you aLittle Liar?”
The shivers slinked under her skin.
“What do you mean?” Her breath hitched, she tensed in his arms as her heart was ready to jump out of her chest.
“I am just wondering when you'll stop this masquerade and stop lying to me?” She didn'tsay anything as he was already continuing, not really caring about her answer. “We both know about the Vampire Slayer hanging on your pretty thigh.”
Her heart skipped a beat, feeling his fingers groping the dagger over the fabrics of her dress.
Dante’s voice came out unusually low, like he was about to break the wings of a bird trapped in a cage.Herwings.
“So when were you going to kill me? While dancing? Maybe while I’m asleep? Or perhaps, you were planning to stab me while looking straight into my eyes?”
She roughly spun on her heels, facing him. His jaw tightened and eyes dimmed, empty as two black holes.
“It's not what you think. I didn't want to use it,” her voice broke. She felt as if she needed to guard herself even though she didn't believe Dante would hurt her. Maybe, she was a fool to think this way, but she certainly believed he wouldn't kick her out for this.
“Didn't want to as ‘didn't plan to use it’ or ‘wish you'd not use it but would anyway’?” The pinch between his brows yanked.
