Ruairidh reached out and took my glass from me, setting both glasses down on the coffee table. Then he held out one hand in an elegant request. “May I have this dance?”
“You may.” I slid my hand into his, and he bent low to kiss my knuckles like a proper Victorian gentleman. I giggled as he straightened.
He flashed his cocky grin, and pulled on my hand, yanking me forward, so I stumbled against his chest. “Much better,” he purred, circling his arms around my waist.
Breathless, I splayed my hands on his chest and slid them to his shoulders, so my body was pressed down the length of his. His forest-green eyes burned into mine, so close that they were all I could see. The music was smooth and slow, and I was surprised when Ruairidh began to move to the rhythm, his steps careful and familiar.
“You can waltz?” I asked, startled that this rough-edged man could dance so beautifully.
He winked. “I have many hidden talents.”