“See?” he prompted, feeling her muscles relax. Even the nervous trembling seemed to subside.
“How did you learn to dance?” she asked.
He shifted so that they were dancing in a circle. He doubted that she even noticed.
“It’s required of all members of any royal family. We also need to know how to ride horses as expertly as any jockey, speak several languages and know how to charm leaders of the various countries.”
Her shoulders seemed to melt. “Oh, I’d love to learn to ride,” she sighed.
The more she relaxed, the more easily her body flowed with the music. “You’re an excellent dancer, once you let yourself enjoy it.”
She blushed and he thought she was absolutely enchanting. “You’re a good teacher.”
“No, there’s more to it than that. You have to have innate abilities in order to dance. There’s a rhythm to the music. But if a person doesn’t feel it in their soul, then they’ll never really learn to dance. Some people can do all of the steps to a dance,” he continued, spinning her, his feet moving between her legs and she automatically placed her feet between his, perfectly following his lead. “But they’ll never truly enjoy the beauty of dancing. Music and dancing comes from the soul, not the mind. You have to feel the dance.”
She stared at his chest, but he could feel her body, felt the sensations flowing through her. Tarin had learned to dance at an early age, under protest, but as he’d grown older, he’d learned to enjoy it. It was a good way to get to know the ladies and a perfect opportunity to avoid irritating conversations. When an annoying diplomat approached, one he didn’t want to talk to, he simply asked the wife to dance.
Dancing with Rachel was different. It wasn’t just moving to the music together, he realized. They were…dancing! He could feel her body, feel the music flowing through her. When her fingers tightened on his shoulder, he pulled her closer.
“It’s polite to look at your partner when dancing,” he said, his voice sounding deeper as his body reacted.
She looked up at him, tilting her head backwards.
“That’s better,” he muttered, his fingers tightening around her hand. Tarin refrained from pulling her flush against his body, even though everything inside of him clamored for him to do so. But if he did, she’d feel his reaction, notice his arousal. He didn’t want to scare her away even if dancing with her was the most erotic foreplay he’d ever experienced.
“You’re a wonderful dancer,” she whispered, her lips barely moving as those huge eyes of hers stared up at him.
“You’re a wonderful student,” he replied and swung her around. “Are you ready for the next step?”
She grinned crookedly and his heart thudded. “I doubt it.”
He laughed. “We’re going for it anyway. Just follow my lead.” He stepped back, one hand still on her waist and, with his fingers, guided her under his arm, twirling her around and then stepping back just in time for her to move elegantly and smoothly back into his arms.
“Perfect,” he murmured.
Her eyes widened and he saw the glow in her eyes. Excitement? Arousal?
Tarin mentally groaned as he pushed that thought away. “Are you hungry?” he asked instead.
Rachel felt as if she were floating on air. There was no hardwood floor beneath her. The lights were actually stars and Prince Tarin was her lover, carefully spinning a sensual web around her as the music played in the background.
“Hungry?” she asked, wanting to giggle. But she never giggled. She used to giggle, but then…nope. No more giggling. She’d stopped herself from doing it because it was embarrassing.
“Dinner. Are you hungry for dinner?”
Rachel stared up at him, somehow sensing that food wasn’t really what was on his mind. But if not food, what would he be thinking about? Of course it was food! She was Rachel, so food was the only thing he was talking about.
Carefully stepping out of his arms, she folded her hands in front of her, as was her habit. “If you want to discuss the options of the other architectural firms, I can just…”
He took her hand, pulling her towards the stereo system. With a flip of his fingers, the music died. “You’re having dinner,” he countered. “I doubt you’ve had time to get to the grocery store since you flew into Izara the other night. And you were here at the palace too early this morning. From now on, we don’t start working until at least eight o’clock in the morning,” he told her with a warning glance. “No sneaking in at seven. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” she laughed, then slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. That was unprofessional.”
He grinned and put a hand to the small of her back, leading her out of the ballroom. “You have a nice laugh, Rachel. I’d like to hear it more often.”
Her shoulders curled inward slightly and she shot a quick glance up at him, then away. “I don’t. Not really. I know it’s annoying.”
He looked down at her, startled. She could feel his surprise. “Why do you think that you have an annoying laugh?”
She shrugged, deciding that a change of subject was necessary. “The architects that I found are a bit smaller in size than the ones that you originally chose,” she said, walking alongside him. “But a few of them have truly innovative ideas that are both more energy efficient and faster, using less resources while implementing building techniques that last longer and with lower maintenance costs.”
“That sounds interesting,” he replied as they entered a small dining room with a table set for two. “But you didn’t answer my question. Who told you that you have an annoying laugh?”
Drat the man! Did he
