Pushing aside the curtain, he opened the door to the kitchen, where he would finish his champagne and wait. It wasn’t until the door lightly swung open a few minutes later did he know that his plan B had worked.
“You’re not scared, are you, princess?” he asked when she didn’t dare enter the kitchen fully.
Maria took a step, letting her hand fall so the door could close them in. “Of course not.”
“Good.” He smiled, holding out his hand for her to take.
It was as if the world went into slow motion for a solid moment as he held his breath, waiting for her to either take it or turn him down. All he needed was for her to place her hand in his, and he would never let her go.
Her emerald eyes on his outstretched hand … she finally took it.
Holding onto her soft, slender hand, he pulled the blonde beauty to him for the first time and carefully placed his other hand at the small of her waist. His body, that had been on fire to touch her since he saw her last, finally stilled, content with a slow dance, even though his thoughts dreamed of much more.
When she didn’t move fluidly with him to the music they could hear coming from the other side of the door, he looked down at her. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve never danced before?”
“Because I haven’t.” It took Maria a moment before she admitted the second part. “Not with a guy, that is.”
“Just relax and listen,” he coached her, knowing it had to be hard for the woman who despised all men to be led.
When she took a long, deep breath and finally began to relax, he pulled her just the littlest inch closer to him. “See? It’s not so bad.”
“Yeah, not for you.” Her eyes might not have rolled, but her voice had.
“That’s true. I’m sure I’m enjoying this more than you,” he freely admitted with a laugh.
“If only your father could see you now,” Maria said then instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry. I—”
“It’s all right. I’d pay good money for him to see us dancing together. I’m sure he’d fucking rather die all over again.” He didn’t want her to feel bad, nor hold her tongue with him. He liked that Maria said what she thought, even if it was harsh. She wasn’t for the weak, but Dominic wasn’t either.
Maria relaxed even more in his arms. “I take it you and he didn’t get along?”
“We had a complicated relationship.” There wasn’t enough time in a day to explain the relationship he’d had with his father, especially not in the little amount of time he was going to get with her tonight. “How about you and your father?”
“Complicated,” she agreed. “But I have a feeling yours might be more so.”
“Yes, you’re probably right.” Dominic gripped her hand ever so slightly, causing her eyes to drift over to his inked fingers. She then glanced down to the hand at her waist, reading the word he had permanently placed into his skin.
Maria bit her bottom lip. “Cassius is like your father, isn’t he?”
“You mean, like Lucca—” He paused for a single moment. “—and you.”
Knowing it wasn’t a question but a factual statement, she flipped it on him. “What about you? Are you like him too?” she asked, not denying her own demons.
Tilting his lips in a half-smile, he wanted to make one thing clear. “Princess, I’m nothing like my father.”
Their eyes danced with each other’s the same way their bodies did, and Dominic squeezed his fingers at her waist, feeling the warm flesh underneath her dress as he brought her even closer.
“Then, how did you know I was heartless? And, what does that have to do with the last time we saw each other?”
He broke their connection as he twirled her in the desolate room, taking in her white satin dress that exposed her left thigh from the large slit. It was like the grownup version of the white dress that he had first seen her in.
“I still can’t believe you don’t remember.”
“Sorry, but I don’t.” Her voice clearly told him she only apologized to be polite. “I’m dancing with you like you wanted, so tell me already.”
With the song ending, he was able to hear Maria was breathing just as heavily as he was.
He could do it—lean in and steal her lips in a kiss that would seal their fate forever—but the new song kept him a gentleman.
“Your mother’s funeral.” When that still didn’t ring a bell for her, he figured he should be really fucking hurt, but thankfully, she’d only been fourteen at the time, so he didn’t hold it against her. Continuing, it was time to finally tell the princess how he knew she had been born without a heart. “I knew you were heartless because you didn—”