My eyes remained upon the stately lord as he dramatically moved to my side.

I was trying to bury that strange feeling, trying to ignore it, but the more I looked at him specifically, the more I began to feel it; this tingling creeping up my spine, these barely-withheld sensations threatening to overwhelm me.

Again, he spoke, in that intoxicating baritone of his. I blushed; in truth? I’d half-expected I wouldn’t show either.

My gaze followed his as he saluted another of the guests, taking note of the man I didn’t recognise. Perhaps coming here had been a mistake. I didn’t know anyone; I wasn’t the type to make connections or rub shoulders with the well-to-do folk.

The thoughts banished in a flurry as my host offered his hand… and a dance. My eyes widened as my breath caught in my throat.

No, no, no, no, no, no, my mind whimpered as my cheeks burned and I fought to swallow back the trepidation, no way, I can’t go out there!

“I’d be honoured,” My reply was soft, as I delicately reached out to accept his offer.

The moment my skin brushed his, however, I felt a rush.

It was not a rush of girlish, flirtatious excitement (well, not only that), but an explosion of withheld emotion; powerful and intense, but buried deep. It was brief; barely lasting longer than a moment. But it was enough for me to flinch, a gasp escaping before I could entirely quell it.

Praying that the man before me hadn’t noticed, I stepped closer, ready to move onto the dance floor.

“Oh, I do indeed have questions,” I chuckled softly, “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”