Her worst fear materialized.
The tip of her shoe crushed against Silas's polished, handcrafted leather shoe.
Her chest tightened. Like a child caught making a mistake, she immediately yanked her foot back, apologizing in a guilt-ridden whisper. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to."
Silas showed no sign of anger. He didn't even glance down at his ruined shoe, simply tightening his grip on her hand and pausing naturally.
"It's fine. Don't panic. Just follow my rhythm," he murmured soothingly. Though there was no smile in his eyes, there wasn't a trace of blame either.
But on the very next spin, she failed to keep up and stomped heavily on his instep once again.
Knowing she had stepped on him hard this time, she panicked and tried to pull her hand away.
Silas didn't let go. He kept a firm hold on her waist, controlling her center of gravity and preventing her from pulling away.
"Let's just forget it," she said, stopping and turning her face away. "I really can't do this."
Silas leaned in slightly, his voice dropping lower with an undeniable intensity. "Alaina, look at me."
She drew a sharp breath and looked back, instantly falling into the depths of his gaze.
His dark eyes were profound, resembling a deep, still pool bathed in moonlight.
Beneath that cool surface flickered a soft, captivating light that held a fatal attraction.
Her heart skipped a beat. She scrambled to look away, but his gaze pinned her in place, rendering her motionless.
"Dancing is a conversation between two people," Silas said softly. "Focus, and let's try one more time."
Without waiting for an argument, he pulled her closer against his chest.
His steady breaths, mingled with his crisp, clean scent, brushed gently against her nose.
A tingling sensation swept over her, making her press her lips together.
She watched the faint shadows his thick lashes cast on his skin, suddenly feeling a surge of curiosity. She wanted to see past the shadows and read the emotions hidden within.

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