Curse of the Wolf King - Tessonja Odette Page 0,95

to dance, you fool! Just then, a new figure joins our party, one that has me stifling a groan. Gavin offers Elliot a nod and me a bow. “Miss Bellefleur, would you do me—”

“Miss Bellefleur, may I have the honor of the next dance?” My eyes flash to Elliot, who has his hand extended to me. I stare at it in stunned disbelief, barely processing what just happened. Did he just…interrupt Gavin to ask me to dance? But no, this is all wrong.

Imogen scalds me with a seething glare, then stalks off with a huff. Gavin glances awkwardly from me to Elliot, who still holds his hand outstretched, then slowly sulks away.

Heat burns my cheeks as I look up at Elliot. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I cannot dance my first dance with her.”

“What are you talking about?” I say through my teeth. “This has been the plan from the start. This is why you learned to dance in the first place.”

“I can’t do it, Gemma.” A twinge of panic seeps into his tone. “I’ll dance with her, but not the first one. Do you see how many people are watching?”

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t dance with me. I’m your steward, not a proper dance partner. We’ll draw too much attention. Besides, balls are a thing of my past. I don’t dance anymore.”

“Well, you do now,” he says, his eyes a bit maniacal. He brings a hand to his hair, as if to drag his fingers through it, but seems to think better of it at the last minute. Instead, he tightens the hand into a fist and holds it at his side. “If you expect me to dance, then dance with me. If I dance with anyone else right now, I’m going to be sick.”

I furrow my brow. “Why?”

“I might stumble. Trip on this damn leg in front of everyone. I’ll look like a fool.”

“Since when do you care what the vile humans think of you? Better yet, how exactly am I supposed to prevent you from tripping in the first place?”

His gaze locks on mine. “I’m…comfortable with you.”

My irritation softens at his words, but what he’s asking is a terrible idea. “Surely, I’m not the only one you’re comfortable with. Anyone else would be a better choice than me. Amelie, even. Where is she—”

“There is no better choice.” He holds out his hand again and offers something between a grimace and a tenuous grin. I’ve never seen him so flustered, so…vulnerable. His voice trembles with a desperate plea. “Dance with me, Gemma. I’m begging you. I cannot do this without you.”

I bite my lip. Oh, for the love of the saints, I’m going to regret this, aren’t I? “Only if you promise to dance the polka and gallopade with Imogen.”

“I promise.”

With a sigh, I place my hand in his, and we step onto the dance floor.

31

We take our places with the other dancers and face each other. One glance around the room shows Imogen has quickly found herself another partner—Gavin, actually—but if her scowl wasn’t already enough to tell me she’s annoyed, her tense posture is more than evident from here. I’ll have to remedy this at my first chance. Right now, I have more pressing matters to consider. Primarily, the fact that I’m about to dance with my employer in a room full of judging eyes.

Sweat beads at my brow and my stomach begins to turn. Oh, for the love of the saints, why did I agree to do this?

“Gemma,” Elliot whispers.

I bring my eyes to his and all prior thoughts disappear. My chest heaves as I notice the slim space between us—space that will only grow smaller once the dance begins.

“It’s just us, all right? We can do this.” I don’t know if his words are meant to comfort him or me, but they somehow manage to keep my head from spinning.

He’s right. We can do this. If it means getting to the next step in our scheme, then it must be done. I take a step closer, our chests mere inches apart. With slow, trembling moves, I lift my hand and press my palm against his, ready to weave our fingers together. But no, that’s all wrong, too intimate of a touch. It takes us a few awkward moments to get it right, but soon our hands are properly and demurely clasped and I bring my other hand to rest on his shoulder. He closes another inch between us, and I feel his hand come