Page 53 of Over the Edge

His knee bumped against hers under the table and he lurched, alarmed at having touched her. He looked up at her and she was smiling at him. Belatedly, he realized she’d touched his leg with hers…intentionally. Well then. A little footsie was okay in Zagistan, huh?

He made a point of brushing his fingers against hers as he passed her a platter of sliced meat, and she glanced at him sidelong, her eyes so smoking hot he nearly dropped the whole thing in her lap.

The other people at the table, all cousins of Anna’s, were an interesting mix of old and modern. Men and women alike were mostly in college, more relaxed and at ease in mixed company than an old school guy like Gohar would probably like. They all spent half the time on their cell phones, posting to their social media accounts or sharing humorous content with one another.

It was so much more Western than he’d expected that he finally leaned over to Anna over dessert and murmured, “I owe you an apology. I mistakenly thought Zagistan was much more backward than this.”

“If you go fifty miles outside of a major metropolitan area, your stereotype would be more accurate.”

“A study in contrasts, this country of yours.”

She snorted. “My country is America, thank you very much.”

A commotion on the stage distracted him, and a band came out and set up. He recognized some of the instruments—a violin, oboe, and an accordion. But some of the others he didn’t. Wooden flute-like pipes, something that looked like a long-necked banjo, and drums of various shapes and sizes.

Trevor braced himself for the piercing noise of traditional horns, but the band surprised him by swinging into a western pop music piece.

The young people danced exactly like western kids would have to the music, gyrating and laughing. As the band shifted into a big band-style piece and the horn players picked up trumpets and saxophones, older couples moved out onto the floor.

The first song ended and the band shifted into a foxtrot.

Trevor murmured to Anna, “You don’t by any chance know how to ballroom dance, do you?”

“Sadly, I do. We had a horrible unit in middle school phys ed where everyone was required to learn how. I’m sure most of the boys I grew up with are still scarred from the experience.”

“Then will you do me the honor of dancing with me, Miss Marlow?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

He led her out to the floor and twirled her into his arms. Her long skirt swirled around them like liquid sunshine as he took her lightly in his arms and commenced dancing with her. He was careful to keep plenty of space between their bodies, but he allowed his pleasure at having her in his arms to glint in his gaze.

She was a light and graceful dancer. But then, she was an outstanding athlete. “In case I haven’t told you tonight, you look ravishing, Anna.”

“Thanks. You clean up pretty well, yourself. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you in a suit.”

“Not true. The day we met, I was wearing a tuxedo.”

She laughed gaily. “That baby blue thing with ruffles? You looked like you’d fallen out of a bad Elvis Presley movie.”

He grinned. “They were horrendous, weren’t they?”

“Why were you guys wearing them?”

“We came directly from Leo’s wedding. His wife was such a bridezilla that we couldn’t resist messing with her and rented the most hideous tuxes we could find. She about popped an aneurysm when we walked into the church. Her expression was a thing of beauty.”

Anna grinned. “Wish I’d been there. I’d have worn a blue tux, too.”

“Yes, but you would’ve actually looked good in one.”

She smiled up at him and their gazes met. The warmth and affection between them staggered him. Sure, he was used to closeness with his brothers. But this was different. “When did you go and turn into a girl?” he muttered.

She laughed under her breath. “I’ve always been a girl. It was just easier for you to imagine me as one of the guys rather than acknowledge that a woman can be as good a SEAL as a man.”

She added as he spun her in a tight turn to avoid another waltzing couple, “It’s why we women went out of our way to dress like guys, never let our hair down or wear make-up, and never to do anything to remind you men that we’re women.”

He frowned down at her. “Sounds to me like you’re underestimating the Reapers. We’ve all worked with you ladies long enough to respect you as equals. You can be yourselves with us.”

“Maybe now.” She shrugged. “When I get back to North Carolina, I’ll let Lily know that we can cut out the act-like-men stuff. We’ll see how it goes.”

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