Page 51 of Heir of the Beast

Apollo is just being a typical man and merely admiring female beauty, nothing more. He’s engaged, for Pete’s sake. I am overreacting like normal.

I hiss under my breath because the dance is starting, and to my horror, it’s an interchanging dance. Of course, it is.

The music is exotic and enthralling, precisely what I do not want. I am just thankful for the low lighting and masks.

Laura is now paired with Apollo—good. She looks completely infatuated with him, pursing her lips and standing too close. This dance is not fast, but you do change partners throughout it.

I grab my partner’s hand and curtesy, and he bows.

We dance, and I feel like I’m in some sort of twilight zone, where my body is moving, but my brain is in a fog. I can only hear the seductive notes of the symphony and my beating heart.

I must dance my way to the edge and make a clean escape without being detected. I’m in the danger zone.

We are intertwining now, and I spin and raise my arms as a new gentleman takes my hand. This continues as I near the edge of the dance floor as I’m twirled again. Just a couple more twirls and I’m free.

I make it to the edge, and I feel a strong hand take mine and yank me back into the dance floor, spinning me forcefully.

Somewhere in the depths of my panicking mind, I know I’m screwed. I know who I will see when this twirl stops.

Dark, glittering eyes gazing down at me, leaving me little clue about his thoughts. My whole body tenses up, and I forget to breathe.

Just act natural, please.

I feel his hand low on my hips, much lower than the other men’s hands, and too low for an engaged man.

As he spins me, his fingers trail over my midsection and lower, applying pressure here and there. Seems deliberate, but I can’t be sure. I hate this tension, this panic.

As I spin again, I come face to face with him, and it’s so unnerving that his expression has not changed.

Does he know?!

It is time to change partners, but he doesn’t move. He just grabs my hand again and spins me.

Uhh…He might know.

Apollo does not change partners, and I am petrified to ask why. ~Maybe it is a mistake on his part~, I think quickly. I don’t want to jump to conclusions quite yet. Surely this is all my paranoia, my demented thinking.

I suddenly feel the heat of his body against my back as his hand presses me hard to him. I feel every inch of his rigid body against mine, and we are no longer dancing.

Luckily the crowded dance floor and low lighting almost hides us in the swarm.

My heart pounds in my chest.

I feel like the little mouse being caught under the lion’s paw.

His hand, which is splayed over my stomach, moves upward, applying more pressure as his palm ascends. I try to move, but his free hand grabs the glittering fabric of my gown and yanks it back.

Okay, I’m in trouble. Warning sirens are ringing in my head. Escape now! Red alert!

My adrenaline is flowing through my veins, and I gasp when I feel his hand under my breasts.

Apollo’s mouth is hot against my ear as he lets go of my gown to rip off my mask, tossing it somewhere to my left.

I try to move again, but his hand grabs my neck, squeezing it just enough for me to panic. His fingers under my breasts move up, feathering over my impressive cleavage.

Butterflies scatter in my stomach as I feel him boldly caress me. Under different circumstances, I would be considered the luckiest girl in the kingdom.

He is provoking me.

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