Page 72 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea
Arick looked up and froze.
His jaw slackened as his eyes swept over her. She raised a hand in a small wave, beckoning him up, but he didn’t move.
Didn’t even blink.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. At last, he seemed to shake himself free of whatever spell he’d fallen under and took the stairs two at a time until he stood, breathless, at her side.
“You look like a mermaid,” he murmured, unable to take his eyes from her. He shifted to face her more fully, then signed a single word. “Beautiful.”
Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and suddenly she wasn’t sure of anything. What was she even doing there?
But then he offered his arm, and she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow, letting him steady her.
Together, they stepped forward, and the herald’s voice rang out above the music as their names were announced to the assembled guests.
Heads turned, curious eyes following their descent down the shallow steps to the ballroom floor. But Arick didn’t falter. His hand stayed firmly on hers, anchoring her as the polished floor opened before them.
“Dance with me?” he asked, his voice low.
She hesitated.
“Your feet hurt, don’t they?” he asked gently.
She nodded, wishing it weren’t true.
“Come on, then. I have an idea.”
He led her to the dance floor, drawing her close. With a grin, he tucked her feet atop his boots, his arms holding her tight.
They moved with the music, a gentle sway that soon had them gliding across the ballroom floor. She tucked her head against his shoulder, the world slipping away.
It wasn’t the same as dancing under the sea. But it was close. If only she could stay in his arms forever.
One song melted into the next, and then another, the music wrapping around them like waves. Arick whispered something now and then, making her laugh softly as they danced, her heart full that she could understand him. The ache in her feet faded beneath the glow of being seen, cherished, held. The music shifted, a brighter rhythm taking hold. Arick’s arms loosened as he began to guide her toward the edge of the floor.
“May I have this dance?” a voice cut through her dreamy haze, sharp and unwelcome. Arick’s sudden stiffness warned her before she noticed who it was.
MacIsaac stood there, his hand outstretched, his face bearing a practiced smile. She glanced at Arick, unsure. But Ailsa had warned her about such occurrences and that it would be considered an offense to refuse. Arick’s jaw was tight, but he gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.
Sorcha nodded and placed her fingers lightly in MacIsaac’s hand, following him toward the forming lines of dancers. Her limp worsened with every step, but she did her best to hide it.
The music picked up, lively and structured, allowing more space between them. MacIsaac guided her into the steps with stiff precision, his palm heavy at her back.
He spoke as they danced, long droning phrases she couldn’t follow. Then he turned her, brought her back to face him, and said in slow, clipped tones, “You don’t belong here.”
Sorcha blinked, trying to follow the rest, but his voice dropped, and the music swelled around them. She caughtAilsa…Arick…and something that sounded likeproper match.
His condescending gaze told her enough.
She tried to step away, but his hand tightened on her waist — not enough to draw notice, but enough to warn her.
“You’re not a noblewoman. You’re not even a lady.”
Sorcha stared at him, and to her own surprise, laughter bubbled in her chest. No, she wasn’t a noblewoman.
She was the daughter of the queen of the ocean. That made her more than his equal. A princess.
Tossing her head back, she let go of his hand and stepped away.
