Finally, it was time for the guests to join the celebration on the dance floor. Smoothly, with as much stealth as a skilled assassin, Aric took her in his arms and glided with her into the crowd. Although he managed to make their pursuit look accidental, in no time at all Kaya found herself dancing directly behind Stephan Mercier and his bride.
Aric lowered his head in a nearly imperceptible nod, the only warning she had before he backed her right into the groom.
“Oh, my goodness!” Kaya exclaimed. She staggered awkwardly, pivoting around to apologize. “I’m so sorry. Pardon us, please.”
Mercier merely grinned, still swaying with his arms around his bride. “No problem at all. I’m sure it was my fault.”
“Not so fast,” Aric interjected with a chuckle when it appeared Mercier would have carried on without further conversation. “We’ve been watching the two of you dance. From what I’ve seen, the only one here with two left feet is me. Stasi, you’ve never looked more beautiful.”
Her brow pinched as she tilted a quizzical look on him. “Thank you... ah...”
“Will.” Aric gave her a charming smile. “Will Bouchard. From UBC. It’s all right if you don’t remember. We only had a few classes together.”
“Oh, yes,” she replied, politely taking his bait even though her warm eyes held no recognition whatsoever. “Of course, I remember you, Will. How nice that you came.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He grinned, flicking a warm glance at Kaya. “This is my wife, Elizabeth.”
Mercier’s new bride nodded. “Very nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Kaya said. “Congratulations on your wedding.”
“Thank you. I hope you and Will are enjoying yourselves so far?”
Kaya glanced adoringly at Aric, resting her palm lightly against his cheek for added effect. “We certainly are.”
He went still as her touch lingered, his face taking on a dangerous edge. Faint embers crackled to life in the green depths of his eyes as he stared at her, but then he blinked once and they were gone. He tore his gaze away from Kaya to look at Mercier.
When he spoke, his voice sounded thick and rusty. “Would you mind terribly if I cut in for the rest of this song? I was telling Stasi’s father as we came in that I hoped we’d have a quick chance to catch up.”
Kaya saw their target’s hesitation and she hurried to set the hook. “Oh, Will. They just got married. Let them enjoy their time together.”
“No, no. It’s okay,” Anastasia said. “I’d love to dance with you, Will. And I’m sure Stephan will enjoy dancing with Elizabeth too.”
“Of course.” Mercier’s lips stretched in a tight semblance of a smile, but his eyes remained shrewd and untrusting as his wife stepped into the arms of another man.
Little did he know, at the moment it was Kaya who posed the bigger threat to his happiness. If the Order’s suspicions proved true about Mercier’s support for Opus Nostrum, his glittering world would soon come crashing down around him.
With Aric whisking Anastasia into the growing crowd on the floor, Kaya slipped her hand into Mercier’s and placed her other on his shoulder. He steered her into a mechanical series of steps as the orchestra played and the pavilion swelled with even more people.
Where Aric had been strong and assured as he’d held her, Mercier’s palm was moist against her fingers, his lean body stiff and distracted as he pushed her around the dance floor. Kaya didn’t need the psychic confirmation of her Breedmate ability to tell her that Stephan Mercier was a nervous, agitated man.
Although he’d appeared poised and confident with his bride at a distance, up close it was clear that his mind was a thousand miles away. Kaya only needed to touch him for a few more seconds before she could follow his thoughts to wherever they led. Until then, her main goal was to put him at ease with her long enough for the connection to take root.
She smiled up at him as they waltzed past the small orchestra. “Thank you for indulging my husband’s request to dance with your wife. I promise I’m trying very hard not to embarrass myself by stepping on your toes again.”
Mercier’s rigid face relaxed just a bit at her self-deprecation. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re doing just fine. Would you like me to tell you a secret, Elizabeth?”
“Yes.” Kaya hoped her reply didn’t sound too eager. She intended to know all of the man’s secrets before she was finished with him.
“Dancing’s not really my thing,” he confided. “Anastasia put me through eight weeks of lessons in the hopes I’d come to enjoy it, but I can still think of a hundred other things I’d rather be doing.”
Did that explain some of his distraction? Kaya couldn’t say for sure. Not until she managed to get inside his head, that is.
She laughed in response to his harmless little admission. “Well, have no fear. Your secret is safe with me.”
At least, that one was.
“Hopefully there won’t be any formal dancing required on your honeymoon in Seychelles,” she added, then immediately wondered if she’d gone a step too far when Mercier’s blond brows lowered over questioning eyes.
“You know where Stasi and I planned to honeymoon?”
Shit. Maybe she’d studied the operation intel a bit too closely.
“I’m sorry, I hope you don’t think I’m being rude.” Kaya used her momentary awkwardness to full advantage while she formulated her answer. “It’s just that many of the big social sites and magazines have been talking about this wedding in detail for weeks. It was kind of hard to miss all of the gossip.”
“Ah.” He grunted in acceptance. Thank God.
“Actually, the honeymoon has been postponed,” he volunteered. “Some business has come up that requires my attention here at home. Seychelles will have to wait, much to my bride’s dismay.”
And so what if Anastasia is
