Page 45 of Silk and Steel

God damn it, I don’t think I can say no. I don’t want to say no to anything Emory suggests. She’s really gotten under my skin.

“All right. Just one glass, though.”

She gleefully calls for a second glass. Emory arches her brows before we touch glasses together.

“What should we toast to?”

“How about keeping you safe?”

She rolls her eyes, but obligingly does the toast.

“Fine. To keeping me safe. Anyone ever tell you that you need to lighten up, Mr. Cole Drake?”

“All the time.”

She laughs, and we sip the champagne. Her eyes glow like the morning sky as our gazes meet. I should be looking for Diego. But I can’t help being captivated by Emory.

“Dance with me?” she says, her voice lilting at the end with hope and eagerness.

“We’re here for Diego.” Even as my lips form the words I know I’ve already lost this argument.

“Just one dance, come on. Don’t we need to blend in a little?”

She takes my hand and I don’t resist as she leads me onto the floor. The orchestra starts up a new number and she scowls.

“Oh, Cole, let’s wait for a slower song,” she says, her brow furrowed. “This is a tango.”

“So it is.”

She yelps a little as I grab her body and hug it to my own. Our hearts beat mere inches from each other. I run my hand down her face and she dips her head back in perfect time to the music.

We trot across the floor with the beat. I drop her into a dip and she follows my lead with perfect grace. It’s like we were born to dance together. I pull her back up and our eyes meet, lips mere inches away. I long to kiss her, but the beat is the master. I send her out for a spin. Her skirt flies up, showing an expanse of shapely legs.

I wind her back in and hold Emory against my chest. Emory gasps, and lifts her gaze to me before the music sends us across the floor again.

When the song ends, a lot of people applaud us. That makes me uncomfortable. When I’d been on the dance floor with Emory, I only thought about the two of us. Just me, Emory, and the music.

“Oh my God!”

Emory’s eyes are wide and filled with energy. The light sheen of sweat highlights her lovely skin. Her chest heaves with every breath.

“Where did you learn to dance? You’re so good! I’ve never had such a perfect partner.”

“Ballroom dancing is one of the first things they teach you in the SEALs.”

Emory sputters with laughter.

“Shut up, it is so not like that!”

The band plays a slower, more intimate number. Something by Sinatra but I can’t name the tune. I bring her in close until our bodies touch.

“Tell me, please,” Emory says as we sway to the downbeat tempo.

“All right. My Dad was an enlisted man, too, and of course I worshiped the ground he walked on. But my Mom, she thought that I could be more…how did she put it?...oh yeah. She wanted me to be more well-rounded. So she signed me up for dance lessons.”

“Wow! The dancing SEAL.”

I let out a frustrated chuckle as I send out to the end of our outstretched limbs. Slowly, I wind her back into my embrace. My body missed her in that brief parting.

---