Page 7 of Catching Fire

He smiled that wide heart-stopping grin of his. “Me either. But if we don’t exercise some of this off before the tiramisu, we’ll never be able to leave.”

“Oh, my God. There's tiramisu?”

He just grinned as though pleased with himself. He still stood there with his hand out, waiting. This time she accepted, sliding her fingers into his warm grip.

As he pulled her onto the dance floor, he suggested, “Let's start with a slow dance. I can’t do any of the moves we learned in class! They’re too fast for right after dinner.”

Though she laughed and agreed, Seline asked herself,What was she even doing?

She didn't have the time to date anyone. But as his arms slid slowly around her waist, she realized she didn’t want to dateanyone, she wanted to datehim. The timing was crappy on all fronts, but his hand slid along her waist and down to her hip, and she decided she should at least give tonight a chance.

With his other hand, he traced her forearm bringing her movement along with his until his fingers interlocked with hers.

Seline sighed and settled against him, such an easy thing to do. Could she do this? Her house was requiring every penny she made and every moment that she had. Her job had needed so much, and she had to get tenure to keep the house. It had been tight before she missed the staff meeting.

She simply didn't have time for this modernly beautiful man and his classically seductive moves. But as he pulled her in close, she could feel every cell catch fire.

It stunned her. This was the kind of attraction she felt for a man after time, maybe after she'd nursed a crush. But this flared to life, hot and consuming, and he hadn't even kissed her yet.

Breathing in the scent of him and leaning against his chest, she let one slow dance turn into three. He turned them slowly around the floor, pressed together in a way that made it clear why the waltz had always been a favorite.

When the song ended and began to fade into the next, Seline unlaced her arms from around his neck and stepped back, almost on principle.What if they burst into flame right here?

“I'm going to— …” she didn't know what she was going to do. She should have thought this out a little better. “… head to the ladies room.”

She needed to catch her breath; she needed space between them. Though she'd let go of him, Kalan hadn't quite let go of her. His fingers trailed down her arm, across her palms, and out to her fingertips almost like a scene from a classic film.

As she slipped away, she fought the delicious shudder that would have let everyone on the dance floor know what she was feeling ... if they hadn't already figured it out. Her breath hitched and she looked away as though that would break the spell.

She made her way across the restaurant toward the back corner where they tucked the restrooms, trying to shake the heady cloud of lust. But her knees threatened to buckle, even though Kalan was no longer near her.

She was falling for this guy, hard and fast—the kind of fall that would have her hitting the pavement at a deadly rate.

Seline hit something alright. Not watching where she was going and being dreamy eyed over her date, she’d smacked into someone coming out of the restroom hallways. She wasn't sure if she made the noise or he did. His drink sloshed and he scrambled to right it.

“Oh, mon dieu. Je suis vraimont desole,” she scrambled, the words falling out in French. She tried a second time. “I’m so sorry.”

“No problem,” but he wasn’t looking at her. When he did, he jolted back and said, “Dr. Marchand?”

Seline took a good look then. She saw the short brown hair bordering on red, the neatly trimmed beard, and the kind green eyes. And she didn’t recognize him at all. Then again, she’d run into students in the past and not recognized them. She stood at the front of the room and they all knew who she was. This one looked a little old to be a—

“I was in Introductory Chemical Analysis last spring.”

She nodded, unsure what to say. She didn’t remember him.

He caught the awkward silence, but instead of filling in his name for her, said, “I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you.”

When she didn’t say anything again, just offered a half smile—what else could she do?he added, “Funny us running into each otherhere.”

Something about the way he said it held a slight edge. But that would be ridiculous. Unless he’d failed the class? Students with bad grades often felt that was the professor’s fault.

“Are you on a date?” he asked with a softer tone.

The haze of lust that Kalan had left her in twisted to wariness. Just because he supposedly knew her didn’t mean he had any right to ask such personal questions.

She didn’t want to be mean to a student, that was not the reputation she wanted. And there was a good possibility that he was slightly inebriated … or more than slightly. She wasn’t dressed professionally either. She was, in fact, here on a date, but she wouldn’t say so.

“I’m here with a friend.” She offered another half-smile. She’d have to explain to Kalan later in case he heard that and thought she was brushing him off.

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