The room was filled with music and dancing. One after the other nondescript man dancing with her and all she could think about was taking walk in the garden to get some air. Then he came over and silently lifted his hand requesting the dance. His presence let her to believe it wasn't a request at all. It was a waltz and not one she should dance with a stranger, but her hand went in to his and his other around her waist and the dance began.
He glided her effortlessly across the dance floor. Their feet in one dance, their eyes in their own. His eyes never left hers, penetrating and communicating so much. No words were spoken while they waltzed in the large room where she played as a child. But she didn't feel like a child now. She felt very much the woman. Their eyes were fixed on each other. She felt his strong hand on her waist, easily guiding her, leading her. She felt small and feminine. His other hand holding hers, formally, properly, but there was nothing proper about his gaze. He saw through her. She knew it, too. She felt heated, flustered. She imagined his strong hands holding her elsewhere - without the hundreds of couples around them - privately, intimately. As if he read her thoughts, gold flecks of lust reflected in his eyes and she blushed knowing he knew what she thought. It was then that he smiled and took her breath away.
He wanted her from the minute he saw her dancing with some clod across the room. He watched her dance with idiot after fumbling idiot until he couldn't wait any more. He didn't know what it was about her - her sparkling eyes, the creamy skin that he could almost feel, or the passion he knew was just under the surface. As he danced with her and felt her gaze, he felt that passion reach beyond the surface and touch her cheeks and eyes. He knew she was responding to him and couldn't help but smile.
His smile was disarming and reached his eyes. She was unprepared for the combination of the gold flecks and his smiling eyes. It was a contageous smile and she returned it with one of her own as she felt the hand around her waist tighten, warming her already flushed body. Amazing how that one hand and magnetic eyes can lead her body and her thoughts so thoroughly. Little did she know.
She found herself sad when the waltz was about to end, there would be no more dancing until after dinner and she found she liked his touch. The music stopped and he spoke to her for the first time. "A walk in the garden?" A rhetorical question. If she wasn't already disarmed with his gold-flecked brown eyes, strong hands, and smile, his voice alone would have accomplished the task. It was warm and had the effect of a brandy warming her body.
She nodded her agreement and let him lead her to the entrance to the gardens. He seemed to know his way, although she never recalled him being at her home. But many of the old homes here were built alike - they looked completely different from the outside, but had the same trappings inside.