Page 31 of Favored Prince

Hailey reaches for her wine glass, hiding the pink color blooming across her neck and cheeks.

The song from inside the bar changes, and Hailey’s shoulders relax.

I reach out my hand, taking a chance.

“Dance with me?”

She looks surprised, then bites her lip, thinking. Finally, she sets down her glass and slips her hand in mine.

I wonder if this feels like crossing a threshold to her as much as it does for me.

I don’t care where we go, what we do. I want to spend more days with her. I want to spend all my days with her.

With Hailey, the idea of settling down brings none of the feelings of pressure that I feel back home. Being with her—free and on our own, away from the spotlights and pro and con lists—feels like a pleasant fog, softening all of life’s hard edges.

A mist, a fog, a dream—whatever this is, I never want it to lift.

I’m going to make this moment with Hailey last forever.

10

Hailey

So help my ridiculous heart, I am dancing with this man to the same song they played for the first dance at my friend April’s wedding.

I swear I am two left feet, never having taken a dance class. But with Torben leading, it’s easy.

“I hope that smile means I’m a decent leader?” Torben asks. With his chin at my temple, his breath teases the loose strands of my hair, sending tingles down my neck.

“That and…” I reply, “The last time I danced to this song, I was told I was clumsy. He said I was making him lose track of the tempo or something.”

Torben grunts softly. “Whoever he is, he’s an idiot.”

I laugh. “And I’m smiling because this is an upgrade. A major upgrade. This is a very nice bookend to my whole slow-dancing experience.”

Torben’s hand moves to the small of my back, and I notice the pleasure rippling across my skin when his fingertips curl into the fabric of my top. “A bookend,” he repeats, a smile in his voice. “I hope it’s not an end to anything. I like dancing with you.”

“You do?”

“Hailey, you are a dream in my arms.”

I melt.

Swallowing hard, I hold back my feelings before they gush out. “Hardly.”

“You’re wonderful. Now, say thank you.”

My breasts touch Torben’s ribs when I laugh. His natural spicy scent makes me want to bury my face in his broad chest and take a deep, deep whiff. “Thank you, Torben.”

It’s just dancing, Hailey. He’s in this for a wife, and you are not royal wife material. He’s using you to learn about American culture, with your consent. Dancing is just dancing. A silly American who lives in a double-wide in West Virginia is probably not what he’s looking for.

“What’s that face about?”

He’s caught me ruminating.

“What?”

Torben gazes down at me with curiosity. “You look…off.”

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