Call of Water (Madame Tan's Freakshow #1) - Marina Simcoe Page 0,3

bar manager, he’d better be good at waitressing.”

“Will do, boss.” Zeph saluted Lero cheerfully, not at all taken aback by the other man’s grumpy tone. “After you, mademoiselle.” He held the heavy door open for me.

Inside, Zeph paused in the hallway to exchange a few phrases with a stocky man who spoke French with a slight Eastern European accent—Ivan, I assumed. Zeph then led me into the room with the stage.

A beautiful dark-skinned woman in a golden gown was singing in a strong, vibrant voice while a group of male dancers performed a dynamic choreography around her.

Several pairs twirled on the dance floor and between the tables. I searched for Fleur, finding her in the company of a handsome dark-haired young man, who occupied my seat. The two appeared to be engaged in a lively conversation.

“Well.” I clasped my hands in front of me, unsure of what to do now but determined not to show it to Zeph. “Thank you for your assistance.” I tipped my head, expecting him to leave now. Surely, he must be needed some place else.

He stared at me, not going anywhere. A light half-smile playing on his lips.

“Did you like my singing?”

Did I? The echo of longing rippled through my chest all over again.

“It was incredible,” I confessed. “Magical.”

His expression turned thoughtful. He looked at me intently, as if searching my face for something.

“Do you live in Paris?” he asked. “Or just visiting?”

“Visiting.” There was no need to mention that I was considering moving to the city. I hadn’t made any definite decisions yet, anyway. “I’m leaving in eight days.”

My words seemed to please him. Arching an eyebrow, he gave me a devastatingly handsome grin before leaning close to my ear.

“Shall we dance?” His warm breath puffed softly against my neck, sending tingles down my skin.

“Oh, no. I don’t dance.” I shook my head, more energetically than was necessary. “I can’t...”

“I’ll teach you,” he said dismissively, already maneuvering us between the tables to the dance floor.

“I...I don’t believe I’m teachable.” I huffed a laugh, nervously glancing around. It felt as if everyone was staring at me right now, judging, ready to laugh.

People had noticed Zeph among them. They started waving and smiling at him. He returned their greetings, exchanging a handshake or a few words here and there.

“There is nothing to it,” he assured me, stopping in the middle of the dance floor.

A spotlight immediately zoomed in on him, illuminating me too.

I blinked, blinded by it. The walls seemed to be closing in on me, everyone’s attention pressing down on my chest, making it harder to breathe.

“I can’t...” I croaked. “It’s too much.”

“Too much what?” he asked with confusion.

Zeph obviously had no problem being in the center of attention. He thrived in the spotlight.

How was I supposed to explain this to him? He wouldn’t understand.

“Too close to...” I waved my hand around. “Everyone?”

“Too close?”

He gave me a penetrating stare. Feeling hot and cold at the same time, I had no idea whether I looked pale or flushed. He seemed to notice my distress nevertheless and gestured to the side somewhere. The spotlight moved away from us.

“Is this better?” He asked, leading me to a darker corner of the dance floor and to the fringes of the crowd.

“Yes.” I exhaled, feeling like a complete idiot. “Sorry...I’m not good at handling public attention.” I huffed a nervous laugh, half-expecting him to leave any minute now. “It’s, um, stage fright?”

“Stage fright? I wouldn’t know what that is.” He chuckled.

“I bet you wouldn’t.” I giggled, with more mirth and fewer nerves this time.

I hadn’t even noticed when he’d placed my hand on his shoulder. Circling my waist with his arm, he leaned in. “Is this too close?”

The scent of his cologne, warmed by his body heat, reached me, making me a little lightheaded.

“No.” My heart thundered wildly in my chest, but I didn’t want him to move away from me. “This is just right.”

“Good.”

A brilliant grin spread on his face. Its radiance seemed to expand like an explosion, sweeping everyone in his vicinity into smiling, too. Of course, I couldn’t resist grinning back.

He took my other hand in his. “Now just listen to the music and follow me.”

Feeling weak in my knees, I found it impossible to disobey him. His will was like a strong current, persistent and unstoppable.

“Listen carefully,” he instructed. “Every second beat, we shift weight...” He leaned slightly side to side, urging me to follow with his hand on my waist.

“This is not dancing.” I snorted

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