Page 173 of Royal Rebel

Dakaar stepped back, a wide smile sliding into place. “But of course.” He bowed deeply to her, then retreated, melting into the crowd.

Serene faced Cardon, who had yet to take her hands.

The music bounced happily around the room, and couples spun beside them.

She arched one eyebrow. “Were you actually planning to dance with me? Or did you dismiss my charming dance partner for no reason?”

The skin around Cardon’s eyes tightened. “I had reasons.”

Chapter 40

Serene

Themusiccontinuedtoplay, and the aleSerene had drunk made her feel overwarm as she stared at Cardon. Her stomach fluttered from his answer, but she wasn’t sure what to say; nothing seemed quite right for this tentative dance they’d been doing since leaving Duvan. The lingering glances and touches they’d shared could only communicate so much.

When the silence stretched, she cleared her throat. “So you’renotgoing to dance with me, then?”

Cardon watched her for a brief moment before stepping closer, still not touching her. “I will if you want me to.”

“Doyouwant to dance with me?”

He stared at her, silent. The tension, the anticipation—it was killing her. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she awaited his reply.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Her pulse skipped. The breathlessness in her voice did not come entirely from the dancing she’d done with Dakaar. Eyes locked on Cardon, Serene said, “Dance with me, then.”

Without breaking eye contact, one calloused hand slipped around hers, his other palm cupping her waist. His throat bobbed. “Perhaps this isn’t a good idea.”

She eased closer, settling her free hand against his shoulder. Beneath his sleeve, his roped muscles tensed. “I think it’s an excellent idea,” she whispered.

Cardon’s hold tightened, then he pulled her into the first step of their dance.

The tempo of the music was fast, but it might as well have been a sweeping waltz. The common room could have been a grand ballroom, and she and Cardon might have been the only couple on the floor.

She had never danced with Cardon before. Imagined it, yes. Dancing with him had been a favorite of her girlhood fantasies. Her love for him had been real even then, and though she had gone through a long period when she had barely dared to dream something like this could happen between them, reality overpowered every daydream.

She was not in a gorgeous ball gown, and he was not in his dress uniform. She knew this dance would not end in a kiss, like so many of her old fantasies did. They would not exchange words of love or devotion. But no dream could compare to feeling Cardon’s strong hands against her body. No dream could come close to the thrill of having him so near, his body only a breath away. And even if the words she longed to hear remained sealed inside him, his deep brown eyes conveyed everything she needed to know. What he’d said on the beach that night in Mortise rang through with every glance, every breath, every press of his fingertips against her body.

I love you, Serene. No one deserves you. Least of all me. And yet, no man will love you as much as I do.

She was breathless when the song ended, unable to look anywhere but at him.

Cardon tugged her even closer—her skirt brushed against his legs. “You’re flushed,” he murmured.

She imagined she was. “Probably from the ale.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly; he was fighting a smile, trying to look firm. “How much did you drink?”

“Not much,” she admitted.

“You listened to me?”

“No need to sound so surprised; it’s not such a novel thing.”

“Trust me, it is.” His thumb skated over her knuckles; he was still holding her hand.

The bodice of her dress felt too constricting. Her lungs strained, and she tightened her hold on his shoulder. They weren’t dancing anymore, but they stood like they were.

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