CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE SWANS AND WOLVES #2
A young man cut through the room like a shadow. I watched him weave his way through dancing couples, his destination giving him confidence as he plucked two glasses of punch from a passing tray. He paused at the bottom of the stairs and met my eyes.
Thomas looked every inch the prince he was, whether his claim to the throne was distant or not. My heart sped as he took a sip from his flute but drank me in in larger gulps.
I gathered the layers of my skirts and descended the grand staircase, mindful to keep from tumbling down the steps.
For someone who’d claimed to be spending the holiday alone with Mrs. Harvey, I couldn’t believe how many guests were milling about.
Daciana would put Aunt Amelia to shame with her hosting skills.
Half the residents of Bucharest seemed to be in attendance, with more arriving every moment.
A quiet little evening with some friends indeed.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I spied Mrs. Harvey dancing near the edge of the crowd, cheeks pleasantly flushed.
“You’re going to drive everyone quite mad tonight, Wadsworth. Your dance card will be the talk of legends,” Thomas said, giving me that half-smile I adored as he offered a glass.
I took a sip, needing all the liquid confidence I could take in. Bubbles tickled as they danced along my throat. I quickly took another sip.
“Actually, I plan on standing below mistletoe most of the evening.”
“Might want to reconsider that, Wadsworth. It’s parasitic, you know.” Thomas grinned. “Of course, I’ll screen potential suitors first if you like. Wouldn’t want any of them getting carried away. That’s what friends do, right?”
Young women were going to be hanging all over him, too. His dark brown hair was expertly styled, his suit tailored to his lean but well-defined frame, and his leather shoes were shined to perfection.
He was heartbreakingly beautiful.
“You look… average, Cresswell,” I said with a mostly straight face, noticing he’d been watching me catalogue every detail. The corners of his mouth twitched. “I expected more, really. Something a bit… princely. I’m disappointed you didn’t don a powdered wig.”
“Liar.”
Ignoring him, I finished off my punch and set it on a passing tray.
My head swam with liquid heat, thrumming through my veins as if it were gasoline waiting for the spark to set it ablaze.
Thomas tipped his head back and emptied his own glass with surprising speed.
I watched him drink in my entire form again, taking liberties to appreciate each curve my gown highlighted.
I still couldn’t believe he’d gotten it for me.
He stepped closer and placed a large hand around my waist, drawing me into a waltz as the music started up. “We promised each other, remember?”
“Hmm?”
I was having a difficult time concentrating on anything other than his sure footsteps leading me about the room in one intoxicating circle after the next.
It was hard to tell if the punch was to blame or if it was entirely the young gentleman before me.
I placed one hand on his shoulder and the other in his gloved hand, allowing myself to get swept up in the magic of the song and the fantastical atmosphere.
This was a winter wonderland, its contrast extreme against the hell we’d traversed.
“When we were still in London,” Thomas brought his lips to my ear, whispering rumbled words and igniting my blood, “we promised. To never lie to one another.”
He pressed me closer until there was no decent amount of space left between us.
I found I didn’t mind as we wove in and threaded through swirling skirts, the crowd of dancers a tapestry of merriment.
The rest of the room collapsed into a dream I wasn’t paying attention to.
There was something better than dreams, something more tangible in my hands.
I needed only to reach out and reassure myself that he was solid. He was no ghost from my past.
“You want the truth, Cresswell?” I wrapped my arms around his neck until our bodies were confused about where each one ended.
Until the only thought consuming my mind was to bring him even closer, to let him catch fire from me, too.
No one seemed to notice my untoward behavior, but even if they had, I doubted I would care in this moment.
“Tell me.” Thomas dipped his mouth dangerously close to mine for a beat that drew out a savage chord inside me. He ran his hands down my back, soothing, teasing. “Please.”
I hadn’t noticed that we’d managed to situate ourselves in an alcove between potted ferns. Their large, fanlike fronds provided a screen from the party raging beyond. We were alone, away from prying eyes, far from society’s rules and restrictions.
Thomas tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, expression a bit sad considering where we were.
“My mother would have adored you. She always told me I needed a partner. An equal. To never settle for someone who’d simper and defer to my role as husband.
” He glanced back toward the crowd, eyes misting.
“Being here is… difficult. Much more so than I thought it’d be.
I see her in everything. It’s silly… but I often wonder if she’d be proud.
Despite what others say about me. I don’t know what she’d think. ”
I ran my hand down the front of his lapels, tugging him deeper inside the alcove. Darkness made confessions easier—it comforted me in a way the light never could.
“She would be proud,” I said. Thomas fidgeted in his suit, attention fixed on the floor. “Do you want to know what I think? The truth?”
“Yes.” He gazed unabashedly into my eyes. “Make it scandalous, too. This is a bit too serious for my tastes.”
“You look rather…”
My heart sputtered. Thomas was staring intently at me, as if he could divine some secret I’d yet to reveal to myself. I peered into his gold-flecked eyes. In them I saw my own emotions reflected back at me. No walls or games.
“You look like you should stop saying you’re going to kiss me, Prince Dracula.” He flinched as if my words had stung him. I drew his face back to me. “And just do it, Cresswell.”
Understanding flashed across his features, and he didn’t hesitate to bring his mouth to mine.
We stumbled against the wall, the entire length of him encompassing me in his warmth.
His hands slid up my frame, knotting themselves in my hair as he deepened our kiss.
The corseted world fell away. Restrictions and rules were bindings of the past.
There were only the two of us left standing in a star-filled sky, oblivious to anything but the way our bodies fit together like constellations.
He was my match in all ways. I tore my gloves off, allowing my fingers the freedom to trace the planes of his face without hindrance and he replied in kind.
His skin was smooth beneath my touch. Thomas drew back, gently caressing my bottom lip with his thumb, his breath no more than a rasp. “Audrey Rose, I—”
I pulled his face to mine and gave his mouth something more interesting to do. Thomas didn’t seem to mind the interruption as we explored new ways of communicating.
Eventually, we dragged ourselves out from our secret spot behind the ferns and danced and laughed until both my feet and stomach ached. Tonight wasn’t meant for sadness and death, I realized. It was a time to recall how extraordinary it felt to be alive.