Page 34 of Falling Princess
“I would be delighted to arrange a personal tour of the Smithsonian museums, if you ever find yourself in the United States. Or the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We have a great number of exceptional pieces on display. Unparalleled. A gem such as yours—”
“The princess is needed elsewhere.”
A hand landed on my elbow above the edge of my long glove. Warm. Insistent. I blinked and allowed myself to be led away from the uncharming man.
“Thank you, you saved me from—”
Shit. Lorcan?
CHAPTERELEVEN
He strode fast, forcing me to trot to keep up. His eyes are the color of wet steel. The only other time I’ve seen him with that expression was the night I tried to go dancing with Raina.
“I was fine. I didn’t need you to intervene.”
I jerked my arm. Lorcan dropped his hand instantly. “Your Highness.”
We stared one another down like a mongoose and a cobra facing off before a fight. I’m the cobra, hissing and spitting and doomed.
What an odd thought.
“Did you wish to dance?” he asked.
I peered at him, uncomprehending, before asking, “With you?”
A pink tinge touched the sharp edges of his cheekbones, bringing into relief a light scar running along the high cheekbone, right beneath his eye. This boy has lived a hard life. He might not look like one at first glance, but he’s a fighter. “If you like.”
“I—” It would be impolite to turn him down. I can be hostile and rude to him back on campus, but here, where my father is watching—to refuse would be monumentally stupid. My decision became easier when I spotted the ambassador coming my way. “Yes, that would be all right.”
Lorcan seemed to freeze. The music changed. I listened for a few seconds.
“It’s a waltz. Can you waltz?”
I, of course, have been trained in dances ranging from traditional country reels to ballroom. I’m not allowed to be a bad dancer.
“I’ll manage.”
I took this for a no, and sighed inwardly at the thought of getting my toes trod upon. My pulse skipped when Lorcan’s arm came around my waist. We’ve never really touched before. Not like this.
When our palms met, I was grateful for the layer of fabric between them. His body radiates heat through wool and satin. I couldn’t figure out where to look, so I kept my eyes locked on his earlobe.
We moved.
Lorcan never stepped on my toes once. Twice, we flubbed steps, and both times were my fault. When he twirled me, my skirt billowed out around my legs. It’s a good dress for dancing. For photographs, which were undoubtedly being snapped by the dozen.
The nice thing about waltzes is that they tend to be short. Two minutes, maybe three. This one was over in a blink. I was almost disappointed when it ended. Lorcan’s hand barely skimmed the small of my back as he led me off the dance floor toward Cata.
I blew out a breath, slightly stunned. Lorcan sketched a bow and left us.
“Nice to see you two getting along for once.” Cata inclined her head to where my knight had gone to join our friends. I was strangely tempted to follow him.
“Must keep up appearances,” I mumbled.
“You looked good together. I bet that one makes the press.”
“Wonderful.” I flagged a passing waiter with a tray of champagne flutes. Cata frowned but didn’t stop me. “I didn’t expect him to dance so well.”
She smiled faintly. “Oh, Lorcan’s full of surprises.”
