Kerrigan’s love of dance had stemmed from a very young age. She’d begged her father to take her to the balls as a child, learning all of the numbers by heart before she could do much more than toddle around. And the dances never left her. They’d burrowed down so deep as to be a part of her.

As Fordham took her hand and twirled her in place, she realized she knew this number already. She had learned it as a young child. And her very bones settled to have her repeat it.

Kerrigan moved away from Fordham, looking back at him coquettishly. Then, he grasped her hand and drew her in close. She adjusted his grip slightly, and then they were off. Their bodies not quite flush together as he held her waist with ease. Dancing with Fordham was not like dancing with anyone else. He had nimble footwork from all those years of weapons training, and they moved into the perfect rhythm. As if they had been born more for this moment than all those times they had fought together.

She twirled away again, and when he pulled her back the next time, he drew her in just a bit closer. And though she was supposed to move her head with the number, she found herself trapped by his gaze and unable to look anywhere else. Her pulse beat a tattoo against her throat. She found that here, there was little acting. Just a girl ensnared by her prince.

“You are full of surprises,” he said.

“And do you like being surprised?”

A small break in his facade brought a side of his lip to quirk into a smile. “It reminds me why I chose to help you.”

“Because I am irresistible?” she joked.

“Because you are unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”

“And is that a good thing?” She barely breathed the question, feeling them continue to drift together. His mouth now mere inches from hers. The song almost forgotten.

“Yes.” The word escaped him, as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

He released her in the final turn. When she finally stopped and the crowd applauded the show they’d put on, she found whatever ice she’d melted had solidified once more.

He pointed at her. “Dance with Prescott.”

She opened her mouth to object. How could he want his cousin anywhere near her after that dance?

But he didn’t let her ask it, just turned to the queen and took her into his arms. Kerrigan didn’t imagine the smirk on her lips.

“One dance,” Prescott promised.

She would have denied it entirely if doing as Fordham demanded wasn’t part of her act. They moved around the room effortlessly but with none of the passion she’d had in Fordham’s arms.