Page 2 of Slow Waltz
He swallowed the unexpected tang of grief. That’s why he’d ended up on this boat—sailing to New York took far longer than flying. His life had been turned upside down by her death and the revelations during the reading of the will, and he’d needed more time to put his head back together. Meeting Silas had set everything aright in completely unexpected ways, but he hadn’t fixed any of the issues that had brought him here.
His mother was still dead. The man he’d thought was his father was still an asshole. He still had no idea who his real father was. He’d also inherited a shitload of money, and everyone he’d ever known wanted a piece ofthatpie.
Something—maybe his posture or the subtle link of elemental energy that bound them together—must have told Silas of his distress. “Are you all right?” His amusement was gone.
“Yeah. Just remembering. I have to deal with all the stuff I’ve been ignoring soon.”
Silas’s touch was brief but reassuring.
They’d reached the other end of the room. Rhys’s assessment was correct. The man standing apart from the rest of the passengers wore a name tag that saidScott Albrecht, Dance Instructor. Wiry, with short blond hair, he had a professional smile and a cheerful, articulate voice. “Ah! More dancers! Do you have partners, or are you here alone?”
“We’re here together,” Silas said. His delivery was smooth but held a touch more of his undefinable accent than usual.
The instructor’s practiced smile slipped a bit but bounced back into place. “Well, Debbie and Faith are without men, so if you two wouldn’t mind partnering with them?” He gestured to the two women who stood apart from the other couples.
Rhys watched the women. One beamed. The other was much more reserved.
“We won’t bite,” the woman who had been smiling said.
She had the same build has his mom, but fortunately not his mother’s long gray hair. Hers was curly. Also, his mother would never have been caught in a turquoise southwestern-style shirt embroidered with cacti and howling dogs. Rhys’s breath caught for a moment, but he pushed the sadness away.
“Deborah,” the other woman said, “don’t frighten them.” She was tall and thin, with salt-and-pepper hair cut short.She must be Faith, then.
“That’s fine.” Rhys was shocked by the words that came out of his mouth. Especially since he meant them. “We can partner with them.” He turned to Silas. “Right?”
“Of course.” Silas had the comfortably smug look of a cat sitting in sunlight.
“Great! I’m Scott, by the way.” They gave their names, as did the other two couples. After a quick round of handshakes and nods, Scott had them spread out on the dance floor. The couples who were obviously together paired off. Silas had been matched with Faith, while Rhys stood next to Debbie. Or Deborah. “Which name do you prefer?”
“Debbie.” She waved a hand full of turquoise and silver rings—and one plain gold band. “Faith just calls me that because she knows it’ll annoy me.”
Scott clapped his hands. “Okay, now that we have pairs, face your partner.”
Rhys followed his instructions, placing his right hand on Debbie’s shoulder blade and extending his left hand. She mirrored his movements until they stood with her right hand in his left and her left hand on his right shoulder. Scott zipped by to straighten their stance and then moved on to the next couple. Rhys hadn’t danced with a woman since high school and found his reaction the same—flushed cheeks and the awareness of just howweirdthis was. He was glad Silas was standing somewhere behind him.
Debbie’s expression was reminiscent of Silas’s sly amusement. “It’s not every day I get to dance with a handsome young man.”
Rhys felt his face heat more. There wasn’t anything he could say.
She winked—actually winked—at him. Thank God for Scott. He clapped again, then began to teach the steps of the dance. The individual steps weren’t hard, but getting them smoothed out and in the proper rhythm without tripping over his own feet—that was the tricky bit.
“Good!” Scott said. “Keep moving, and now turn your partner to the left with each step.”
Lots of luck with that. As they turned, Rhys spied Silas dancing with an ease that betrayed his knowledge of the dance. Faith looked perfect in his arms.
Of course, any person would look perfect with Silas. Something in Silas, maybe the sense of the forest and field in his blood, brought out the best in others. Or the worst, depending on Silas’s mood. But his fae was happy at the moment. Little ribbons of energy twisted around the few potted plants in the room in a different dance.
Rhys, however, was going to look like a waddling duck at the end of this. He stared at his feet.
Debbie clicked her tongue. “Relax. And look up.”
“If I do that, I’ll step on you.”
She laughed. “No, you won’t. Trust me, I’ve done this before.” She stopped moving. “Now eyes up.”
Rhys gave in and did as she asked.
“Now, one, two, three…one, two, three…” She moved him around the floor.
