It must be his magnetism drawing me closer so that I’m practically slithering over him in that tuxedo. Now his hands are on more personal places. My arms. My shoulders. My back. I stare up at him, his face tinted by the red lights of the event. It gives him a dangerous glow.
Is he the devil?
If so, tonight I’m a sinner, perfectly willing to give in to temptation.
As though on cue, the music shifts into something slower. The couples around us come in closer. Even though I didn’t think it possible to be any nearer to my own partner, Magnus draws me in. Every part of him is pressed into every part of me.
The music guides us in a slow sensual movement that transcends the idea of dancing. There’s a current running through him that flows through me, as though we’re one connected being.
I’m tall enough in these heels to only have to bend my head back slightly to look in his eyes. Even the lights can’t defy those green irises as they hold mine captive.
“Magnus,” I whisper.
It’s lost in the volume of the music, but he doesn’t need to hear the words. Like me, I can sense he feels it. His large hand comes up to caress my neck, before coming to a stop, holding me in place as he leans down.
That’s when the world around us stops, then completely disappears.
My own world is lost in Magnus’s lips as he guides mine. I’m not even sure if our bodies are still dancing. If they are, it’s nothing compared to how active my insides are as I fall blindly into the feeling of Magnus kissing me.
I don’t even know how much time has passed when he finally pulls away. Reality comes rushing back in like a shockwave, evaporating the alcohol in my system, and whatever overcame me just now. I laugh nervously and pull away.
Magnus takes my hand and draws me back to his front. “The fireworks will be starting soon.”
I’m not sure if he’s being literal or figurative.
The way he holds my gaze tells me it’s definitely a bit of both, the latter more so than the former. Did he feel that same connection flowing through him as we danced? I try to shake it away, knowing I shouldn’t allow myself to succumb to the fairytales invading my head. But Cinderella is still at the ball, glass slippers firmly on her feet.
We head back to the table to find Mona chatting animatedly in French with another couple.
“Ah, there is the lovely couple. You two have been causing quite the stir on the dance floor,” Mona says, giving us a knowing smirk.
“Are you going to lecture us, or are we going to watch the fireworks?” Magnus says with a smirk of his own.
I’m still lost in my head. My hand is still in his, and I feel like the world’s most willing prey. I want Magnus to do more than kiss me, I want him to devour me.
The feeling doesn’t wane as we follow the crowd outside to view the fireworks. The show is brief but spectacular. It lasts no more than five minutes, and each burst of light matches the intensity of my beating heart. It’s the perfect metaphor for how I feel.
Every one of those blasts of color in the air is thrilling and exciting in the moment. But I know they are created by something dangerous and combustible, something that could easily burn you if handled the wrong way.
And I’m still standing on a pile of gunpowder.
Am I putting too much trust in Magnus not to light the match that could make it go off? I have no idea what his overall plan to deal with Gabriel is. As such, I have no choice but to be cautious.
By the time the fireworks show is over, I do indeed feel like Cinderella. Like her, there was a brief, heady moment of bliss.
But reality bites.
Until Theo and I are safe, I can’t allow myself to play the princess, at least not at the expense of protecting myself—most importantly, my heart.
Tomorrow it will be business as usual.
This Cinderella is back to cleaning up the ashes.
Chapter Fifty-Two Magnus
I knew bringing Sloane to this event would be dangerous, but I didn’t realize just how much I’d be putting myself, more importantly, my emotions in the line of fire. Even with Mona as a buffer, the intensity with which my heart beats echoes through my body like a sonic boom on repeat.
“Spectacular as ever!” Mona exclaims as the last of the lights in the sky fade.
Since the fireworks started, Sloane has been deliberately avoiding making eye contact, and now I’m left wondering if I was the only one who felt something on the dance floor.
“It was amazing,” Sloane says. There’s something in her voice that is almost sad for it to be over.
Mona sighs heavily. “This Cinderella is definitely ready to return home. I feel like the pumpkin itself after all that food and wine.”
Sloane’s eyes snap to her in mild surprise, her eyelashes blinking rapidly for some reason. She catches me looking at her and once again deliberately turns away to look at the crowd.
“Yes, it seems the festivities are over for the night,” I say in a terse voice.
“Don’t you go blaming an end to your fun on me, Magnus,” Mona says with a smirk. “You can send me home in the car while you two continue the night.”
“Actually, I’m pretty tired as well,” Sloane says, still not making eye contact.
My eyes flash to her, willing hers to at least glance my way. She does, briefly, and I see enough there not to risk saying anything.
For now.
Mona, amusingly enough, falls asleep on the ride back to her apartment. Her snoring is almost enough to cut the tension in the car between Sloane and me. At least it fills the deafening silence during the ride.
I leave Sloane in