Nocturne(49)

Maybe not.

“Let’s go.” He shrugged as his voice turned husky.

Just then, a new song started. It was fast, which was all my nerves and my pulse could handle, anyway. His hands were firm, tight, just like I remembered. My knees were a little weak, and I regretted not taking one more shot of tequila before heading onto the dance floor.

Suck it up, Savannah. This is what you wanted. Just. Dance.

I spun around with a smile on my face and found Gregory assessing my legs.

“That is a lovely dress.” His eyes volleyed around the space between our bodies, struggling to find a place to settle.

“Thank you.” I knew he liked it. He looked at me the same way when he saw me in this dress in that club in Boston.

Though we’d been on the dance floor for five seconds, he’d made no move to take the lead. He seemed stuck. Thankfully, a waitress weaved through the crowd with a tray full of shots.

“Thank God,” I sighed as I took one, placed some cash on the waitress’s tray, and poured it quickly down my throat. “Want one?”

He shook his head. “What was that?”

I looked up at the ceiling, giving myself a second to taste it. “Rum? Yes. Rum.” I nodded, licking my lips.

He opened his mouth to say something, but I silenced him by grabbing his hands and anchoring them on my hips. Before I could assess how much I loved the way his hands felt on my body, I gripped his shoulders. His lips parted slightly as I refused to move my eyes from his gaze.

“I know you can dance, Gregory. I saw you that night in Boston …” I felt his fingers press into my hips for a second as he seemed to consider whether he’d lighten up or not.

“I know you can dance, too, Savannah.” His face didn’t change as I realized we were both standing static on the dance floor.

I closed my eyes, and a breath later, started moving my hips in slow circles. I left my eyes closed for another second, letting the music pour through me and out my hips and feet as I moved, faster now. Tossing my hair over one shoulder, I opened my eyes to find Gregory’s face more relaxed, but his eyes were still focused on my face. I wanted to look away, to take a break from their intensity, but I couldn’t.

As the song headed toward the chorus, I realized Gregory was keeping a measured distance from me. Our bodies were too far apart to be dancing to a song like this. Too far apart to be dancing at all. As the rhythm picked up, I moved in a step closer, sliding my hands from his shoulders to the back of his neck.

He sucked in a breath I know I wasn’t meant to hear. A breath that made me want to run my fingers through the back of his hair. I knew if I lifted my chin just a fraction of an inch, I’d be well within kissing distance of his lips. Goosebumps sprouted down my back, and my lips felt like they were pulsing just at the thought of his mouth on mine. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to kiss me. He wanted it too. Any insecurities I had about kissing him vanished as he licked his lips. This summer had changed things for me, and judging by the way his eyes were moving across my collarbone, they’d changed things for him, too.

No.

Not here.

My head was clouded with the music, the nerves buzzing through my brain, and how his hands felt as they tightly held my hips.

“You can really dance.” I bit my lip to prevent myself from kissing him right there on the dance floor. I chuckled, realizing that he was now leading us in the dance. Only Gregory Fitzgerald could change who was leading without the other person noticing.

He simply grinned, half his mouth turning up in a way that would make the Cheshire cat jealous. Seeming to relax into the music, and our dance, he lifted his arm and spun me out away from his body, his ice-blue eyes watching me the entire time.





Gregory


My heart raced as she spun in a circle at the end of my arm, the bottom of her dress flaring out, my eyes once again falling to her calves, her knees, the swell of her breasts. Then I pulled her back, and her body came back into contact with mine, leaning back against my arm just as the song came to an end.

Savannah’s cheeks were flushed red, and for just a second our eyes met again, as they had over our instruments just a few short days before. I steadied her back to her feet, careful to not touch her anywhere inappropriate in front of all of these people.

But I ached to touch her. I was out of control, my body aching with unchecked lust. The lights lowered as the next song began, a slow song, a ballad. Instinctively I started to let go, my hands loosening.

Why not?

The thought was … unnecessary, wrong. But without transition my hands slipped from her arms down to her waist. I pulled her to me as her hands rose to my shoulders. The touch of her skin, shifting just beneath that insubstantial dress, was intoxicating.

“You dance remarkably well.” As I spoke I tried to keep my breathing under control. I tried to keep my thoughts and emotions under control. She was a student. No matter that she’d spent the summer on the faculty at Tanglewood, in a matter of two weeks we would be back at the conservatory, back to our normal roles.

Struggling to get my thoughts under control, I said, “Where did you take lessons?”

She raised one eyebrow, as she leaned back just slightly to look in my eyes. “Lessons? You don’t need lessons to dance, Gregory, you just move with the music.”

With her in my arms, my hands just touching her waist, I wasn’t even conscious of any music playing. I took a breath as we moved slightly closer to each other. Too close, really. Her dress was a light fabric, smooth and barely there. The muscles at the base of her back seemed to tense where my hands rested. “Chaotic as always, Miss Marshall.”