in Ethan’s watchful eyes, he liked the movement of the dress, too.
At first he just rotated one shoulder forward and then the other, in a tentative sashay. But after a bit any self-consciousness dissolved and he let his body gyrate freely to the beat of the music.
He had a natural rhythm—just as Holly had known he would. It was part of that primitive side of him—the part he kept hidden away. The part she wished she could access.
Their eyes locked and their movements synchronized until they were undeniably dancing together.
There was no doubt of their attraction to each other. But they were doing a very good job of keeping the evening friendly and nothing more, just as planned.
As a matter of fact, when he had been talking on the deck earlier, about the good feeling of giving, it had been as if Holly was an old pal he could confide in. Pals were good.
Which was why when the band switched to a slow song Holly turned to leave the dance floor. Slow dances weren’t for buddies.
But a strong arm circled her waist.
“This doesn’t fit in with our no touching policy this evening.” Holly shook her head in resistance.
Ethan pulled her toward him and into a firm clinch. He secured her against him with a wide palm on her back.
Her breath hiccupped. Tonight was supposed to be time off from physical contact with him. After their intimacy at the Empire State Building last night had gone far outside the realm of their contract. Tonight, the last thing Holly needed was to have her face pressed against his neck, with the smell of his skin and his laundered shirt intoxicating her into a dangerous swoon.
“We may as well have a run-through, future Mrs. Benton,” he murmured into her ear. “We will be expected to dance together at the gala.”
He lifted one of her arms and placed her hand on his broad shoulder. He clasped her other hand in his.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” Holly protested.
“Surely I am not that irresistible.”
She laughed, although that was only half funny. “What I meant was, I don’t know how to partner-dance.”
“Well, young lady, you are in luck. I happen to be three-time champion of the Oxford Ballroom Dance Society.”
“Really?”
“No. Of course not.”
He began moving and she followed in line.
“But it is not that difficult. Can you feel my thigh leading yours...?”
* * *
When they got home, before they retreated to their separate sleeping quarters, Ethan retrieved the engagement ring from his jacket pocket.
As he replaced it on her finger, he asked, “Holly, would you marry me...again?”
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