Page 58 of Violet

“Go annoy someone else,” he says, the command still in his tone. She glares at me but has no choice but to scurry away.

“Do you want us to stay?” Iris whispers, glancing from Stephan to me.

I shake my head. “I’m okay.”

Iris takes Mari by the arm and they leave us.

My knees wobble as I gaze up at him.

He did that for me.

“Don’t faint, Princess.”

Again, the Alpha voice is pitched low, only for my ears. It strokes over all my senses like cool water, bringing me a moment of zen.

The panic leaves me, and all there is, apart from that spa-like calm, is tremors of excitement and anticipation.

It’s like being touched.

He’s dressed as some dashing buccaneer, with tight pants and billowy black shirt. His mask is simple, like a cat burglar’s, and around his waist is a violet cummerbund.

It’s like he’s walked off the cover of an old-school romance novel.

I lick my dry lips. “I had that under control.”

“But I helped,” he says, his sparkling brown eyes boring into mine.

I drag my gaze away, past some of the people dancing. I drag it past the glaring, ruffled Alicia whose new friends are trying to soothe her as they show her something on her mini pad, but she’s not mollified, she’s focused on Stephan and?—

“Dance?” I suddenly ask.

“If Bro-zilla is okay with it,” he says, a smile in his voice.

“Heath has no choice.”

The live music surrounds us as I take his offered hand, and he leads us onto the dance area.

Stephan’s hands are warm, and being close to him has an excitement that never fades, even with repeat close encounters with him.

Unlike with the other Alphas I’ve gone on dates with, the small talk is easy. He tells me some stories about his life in Emporia, all sanitized for my sake probably, and he shows interest in my dancing.

“My agent is excellent. She might be visiting soon,” he says as he twirls me around. “I can introduce you. There’s choreography, dance companies, all kinds of things you could do. Even a dance school at the National Ballet.”

“For who?Me?Oh, no, I’m not good enough.”

He grazes my ear with his mouth. “Yes, you are.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Actually, I do.” He pulls back a little to look at me fully. “Did you know Mikel Petrov records all his dance sessions and posts clips of his most talented students online?”

My next breath freezes in my chest.

“You’re on there a lot, you know. Twenty-seven clips, to be exact. And I watched them all.”

Oh my god. I didn’t know that.

“That’s…”Flattering. Thrilling. “Creepy.”

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