To Sketch a Sphinx - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,49
exasperated expression, louder and harder than he would ever have done in public before, but unable to do anything less. Sometimes he just loved Hal, and her surprisingly direct, unusual view of life. Sometimes he just loved her sense of humor.
Sometimes he just loved her.
He loved her.
Laughter began to fade, but the warmth of it only grew, centering itself somewhere between his heart and his stomach. It expanded as he looked upon her from the line in which he stood, swirled about as she smiled at his amusement, spun itself around his head as he bowed towards her. The moment his hand touched hers in the dance, another wave of the sensation enveloped him, streaking its way into every vein in his body, every fiber of his being.
He was in love with Hal.
And he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
He watched as she circled the man to his left, catching every change in her smile, every movement of her eyes, which flicked towards him more than once. When it was his turn, he circled the woman to her right, giving all due deference to his present partner, as was polite, but always looking back to Hal, anticipation building. The color in Hal’s cheeks began to grow, adding to the rosy hue that seemed to pervade her from the moment she walked into the building this evening.
They met in the center, taking each other’s hands, and there seemed to be a joint catching of breath, though nothing audible was emitted. Slowly, in time with the music and the other couple, they began to promenade, eyes solely on each other.
How could a heartbeat change so much as to march in exact time with the music about them? John could honestly say he was no skilled dancer, but he’d never needed to keep count in his head to be sure of his steps. Yet the cadence of his pulse allowed him to keep his focus where he wished it and not where the dance required him to.
They parted for the dance movement, took the hands of the dancers on either side of them and progressed backwards a slow three steps, each one seeming painful as they took him away from her.
The lead couple progressed down the line, and John felt his fingers buzzing by his sides, the waiting agonizing. Couple after couple followed, and at long last it was their turn, again taking hands and proceeding down the line. Hal wasn’t smiling now, not exactly, but there was a slight curve to her lips that made him wild to kiss them.
Kiss Hal? In the middle of this ballroom in Paris?
It didn’t seem like such a bad idea, which was clearly an indication of the madness of love if he’d ever heard one.
His eyes rose to hers, and the shade of blue there was darker than he recalled from only moments before. It nearly undid him.
The movement of the dance parted them once more, a groan seeming to rise from his entire frame at doing so. He circled around with the other men to move the line back to the front of the ballroom, staring at Hal without any shame or hesitation. She bit down on her lip just a bit, the gesture surely a sign of inner conflict or nerves, but it attracted him enough that his stomach clenched at the sight.
One more motion before the cycle started again… The partners met in the center of the line, standing close, hands pressing together, palm to palm, and turned slowly towards the right.
It might as well have been happening twice as slow as reality for him. He knew every breath she took, could have countered it with one of his own, felt her pulse as much as he felt his own, and the room faded from all existence but for the two of them. There were no other dancers, no guests, no hosts, and no mission.
There was only Hal.
Only his Ange.
The name for her had never before seemed so entirely apt.
“Ange,” he breathed as their hands began to peel away from each other, his fingers running the length of her gloved forearm before parting completely.
Her lashes fluttered briefly, one breath exhaling in a rough near gasp that weakened his knees.
Then they were backing up into their lines once more, the distance between them suddenly an insurmountable obstacle that caused him physical pain.
Did it do the same for her?
He’d never been a praying man, but suddenly, the most devout petitions were sent to the heavens