Page 52 of Lady Knight and the Thief

He grabbed Cypress by the waist firmly, though not painfully. Torren’s hands felt like fire against her body, and made her heartbeat echo in her ears.

“Follow my lead,” Torren said, then began twirling them around the room.

The skirts of Cypress’s dress flared around her legs as she tried to match his footwork, barely able to contain the smile on her face, the joyous laughter that tumbled out of her lips. She had no idea how he moved the pair of them so gracefully when Cypress could barely move her feet fast enough, her heart in her throat.

Cypress erupted with laughter again when Torren leaped, carrying her with him effortlessly.

Then he spun her, keeping hold of one of her arms while Cypress twirled for what seemed like an eternity.

Then, they were dancing once more, Torren’s bare chest pressed to hers, his hand on her back while the other clasped hers in a firm grip. Her skin felt like it was on fire, molten heat spreading throughout her body.

“Not bad, Lass,” He said, smiling down at her as he spun them once more with a leap.

Everyone around them seemed to know the dance that Torren led Cypress in, the room a twirling mass of skirts and bodies.Gold shimmered down from above where the smallest of the Fair Folk danced, stepping on air.

Cypress couldn’t get a full breath, her mind racing, a smile splitting her face in two. The musicians played impossibly faster, the notes of the song propelling the dance. She almost felt as if her toes barely met the ground with how effortlessly Torren led them through the steps.

And then, when she felt as if the dance couldn’t go any faster, the music swelled and Torren lept, catching Cypress in the most dramatic dip with her leg hooked around his waist, hand on the underside of her thigh when the music halted.

She couldn’t see straight, her grip around his shoulders tighter than proper, with their bodies pressed so tight together.

Eyes locked together, they shared every heaving breath until Torren blinked, sending his storm grey eyes over Cypress’s face, the line of her neck.

Where they were pressed together, Cypress felt her pulse echoing through her center. Though Torren’s tight grip around her bare thigh was what was truly driving Cypress to insanity.

Torren held her there in that low dip, looking at her through thick lashes for what seemed like an eternity, neither of them moving, just sharing breath.

Then, whatever spell the dance had placed upon Cypress was broken when the audience she’d forgotten about clapped, wine glasses tinkling with cheers of excitement echoing in the grand room.

Delicately, Cypress tried to extricate herself from the Prince’s grip, her heart still in her throat, confusion overtaking her senses.

“With some practice, you probably wouldn’t break any toes,” Torren joked when they separated, a wry smile plastered on his face.

Cypress’s mouth dropped open. “I didnotbreak your toes!” She whispered in a shriek.

Her body, once flush and pulsing, was now like the frozen capped mountains.

Torren raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, fire igniting in her belly. “It’s no wonder you lack a companion; you have nomanners,” Cypress hissed.

“Now who’s being rude?”

“You!” Cypress said, taking a step toward him. It was almost as if she had no control over her body; there was thistensionrippling in her core, an undiluted heat in her thighs that hadn’t been there moments before.

“It’s okay that you don’t know how to dance, Lass,” Torren said, smirking down at her.

“Give me a sword, and I’ll show you who doesn’t know how to dance,” Cypress hissed, pressing her finger into his bare chest.

“You want my sword, Lass?” Torren asked, licking his lips.

An undignified squawk left her lips, her fist tightening in the lapels of his jacket. “You,” she growled.

“Me,” Torren said, his smile unbroken by the snarl on her lips or her tight grip on his clothes.

Cypress’s face felt hot, her chest heaving with uneven breaths. And then, something changed in Torren’s expression. Something that looked likepity. Cypress reared back as if slapped, dropping her grip on him.

“Lass, I think…” he said, giving her entire body a look.