“I don’t know that dance, Lincoln. I’ll sit this one out.”

“Let’s see what we can do about that.” Lincoln snaps his fingers at the violinist. The musician instantly looks our way. The Prince makes a slicing motion across his throat. The lively jig transforms into a sultry tune.

“Ah, a slow dance.” Lincoln leads me toward the floor. “Anyone can do that.”

I stifle a grin. “That’s a neat little trick.”

He arches his brows. “It’s good to be the Prince.” We reach the center of the dance floor. “Shall we?” Bit by bit, Lincoln pulls my hands up to his neck; I weave my fingers through his wavy brown hair. Sliding his fingertips down my back, his hands settle about my waist. I shiver, remembering his touch in the stables, his kiss in the botanical gardens. My skin flushes. Our bodies sway to the slow tune.

A new sea of faces stare at us, but I only see the Prince’s eyes and the play of light on his high cheekbones and strong jawline. The room feels empty, only us two. A smile tugs at Lincoln’s full mouth. “I have a secret for you, Myla.”

“Really? What is it?”

“I can’t whisper it when you’re all the way over there. Come closer.”

I move my body nearer to his; we’re almost touching. “How’s this?” I tilt my head so he can speak in my ear.

“Closer.”

Smiling softly, I press my body against his, sensing every firm contour of his chest and hips. We freeze. My breath catches. I scan Lincoln’s face, feeling the intensity of his stare. His palms stroke the small of my back and we sway to the music once again. It’s taking everything I have not to kiss him.

I tip my head to one side. “And now?”

Lincoln’s breath tickles the shell of my ear. “A girl like you…In a dress like that…Should always dance this close.”

I glimpse around the room, finding a lot of wide eyes, loud whispers, and not-so-polite pointing in my direction. The Earl of Acca looks red-faced and ready to burst with rage. Adair sits at a nearby table, her gaze locked on me and filled with loathing. “I’m not sure the thrax agree, Lincoln.”

The Prince slides his hand up my back. His fingertips brush the bare skin on my shoulders. I bite my lip, stifling the urge to make an ‘mmm’ noise. The Prince sets his lips by my ear. “Time to start causing trouble, don’t you–”

“Prince Lincoln!” It’s Gianna, rushing toward us in a purple gown. “It’s urgent! A demon patrol’s under ambush!” As soon as there’s an inch of room between us, Gianna inserts herself, grabbing Lincoln’s hand and trying to pull him from the dance floor.