“I hope you’re enjoyin’ tonight.”
Nat enthusiastically nodded. “Very much so.”
I looked around the ballroom. “A lot of people are in attendance to celebrate you.”
Nat leaned in, a twinkle in her eye. “There are some guests I don’t know.”
I mimicked her movements. “There are a lot of guests I don’t know.”
My admission brought a brilliant smile to Nat’s face. A tightness filled my chest as I looked down at her. All I could think of was how could I get her to smile like that again.
Frowning, I looked away. Where had that thought come from?
I cleared my throat and looked back at Nat. “Would you care to dance?”
She dipped her head, her smile never leaving. “Of course.”
She hooked her arm through mine and we walked onto the dance floor. We faced each other, my hand settling on her waist, and the other gripping her small, delicate hand. The skin-to-skin contact felt like a jolt of lightning. I was almost tempted to jerk back. But I didn’t. My fingers spread ever so slightly across the middle of her back. I had to stop myself from moving my hands any further.
Why had I agreed to this? Oh yes. Étienne. My best friend. He trusted me. Thought his sister would be in safe hands. But if he knew the thoughts in my head right now, he would change his mind.
“You seem to be enjoyin’ tonight,” I said as we moved across the ballroom floor.
“It’s wonderful. Everythin’ I imagined it to be.”
“You look nice, Nathalie.”
She frowned ever so slightly, and I felt a brief sense of panic. I shouldn’t have said nice. She looked beautiful tonight, but I couldn’t say that.
“You don’t have to call me, Nathalie, you know.”
“I know. But…” I looked around, staring at the people moving about the ballroom before I turned back to her. She was looking at me with wide, almond-shaped eyes. “This is your debut, and a debut is considered your first appearance in society, but I think it’s a transition.”
Nathalie watched me with interest. “How so?”
“You’re peelin’ the last layers of your childhood and presentin’ yourself to the world as a lady. Similar to a butterfly sheddin’ it’s cocoon.”
Nathalie stared at the center of my chest as she pondered my words. I’d like to say this silence was uncommon in conversations with me, but it wasn’t.
“You think I’m peculiar, don’t you?”
Nathalie immediately tilted her head back to look at me. “Of course not. Why would say that?”
“Because of the…” I looked over my shoulder, as we turned, to make sure no one was listening. I didn’t know why, but I felt protective of this dance, of this very lady I was holding, and the conversation we were having.
“Because of the butterfly comment?” Nathalie provided.
I nodded.
“I liked the comparison.” Nat lifted an elegant, bare shoulder. Had her skin always glowed? Perhaps it was because we were beneath the lit chandeliers but her creamy skin was flawless. My eyes traveled down the neckline of her dress toward the bodice and lingered.
“Asa, did you hear me?”
My head lifted and met Nathalie’s gaze. She smiled and waited for my reply, unaware of what I was doing seconds before. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I said, I think butterflies are beautiful.”
Sweet Nathalie. Always my champion. I found myself smirking; Nat may have been growing into a dazzling young woman, but her sweet personality was still the same. Her old soul remained the same. The longer I stared into her hazel eyes, the faster my heart beat until I was struggling to breathe. I couldn’t look away. All the subtle changes that had happened to Nathalie throughout the years seemed to hit me at once. And now I was left to stare at the conclusion. The stunning and undeniably enticing finale.
Why keep searching for any other woman? With Nathalie, you would never have to fear rejection ever again.
The words were startling, and deeply unsettling. To entertain the idea of Nathalie as anything other than Etienne’s sister was to accept the loss of his friendship. With her in my arms, it was tempting to believe the risk just might have been worth it. But I didn’t know if I could hold onto someone as perfect as Nathalie.
The very idea of letting go made my hand around hers tighten. It was an instinctual reaction. A way for my heart to speak the words, “No. She belongs to only me.”
I didn’t understand what I was thinking or feeling. But if I didn’t find my balance, I might have fallen over and never gotten back up.
“Do you know the oldest debutante ball is said to be the Christmas Cotillion in Savannah, Georgia? The year was 1817,” I blurted.
Nat didn’t question the sudden bout of information. Rather her eyes widened with interest. “Is that so?”
I should have stopped, but I couldn’t.
This is Nat! The little girl you would talk to when her brothers were too afraid.
And now, here I was, seemingly nervous of the same girl. Although now she was no longer a little girl. That much was made noticeably clear tonight. I couldn’t help it. My eyes, once again, drifted to her décolletage. The upper swells of her breasts were white and creamy and smooth. So smooth my mouth went dry.
Not once had I ever noticed that.
Because she was always covered up.
Because she was only seventeen.
At once, I averted my gaze and looked over my shoulder at Étienne. He made a shooing motion with his hand, as though to say, Don’t stop. Keep dancing.
He wanted to prevent absolutely any chance of Nat dancing with a womanizer like Conrad.
As the song drew to a close, the couples around us separated and clapped. Nat began to do the same. Her left hand moved away from my shoulder, and seconds later, she began to remove her right hand from my grasp, but I tightened my hold. Immediately her confused gaze met mine. “Asa?”
The sound of Nat’s voice saying my name made the muscles in my gut clinch.
“Shall we dance again?”
Considering I stared down her dress and gave facts about the first debutante ball she had every reason to say no.
There was no hesitation from Nat. She gave me a bright smile. “One more dance would be wonderful.”
I nodded, and as the next song began, I held her closer than I had before.
Hours later, after every guest had left, Livingston remained on the floor, dancing with a woman he had set his sights on the second he saw her. We all knew this game. He would smile and whisper words in her ear that were guaranteed to have her leaving on his arm.
“My God. How long can this go on?” Miles said with a thread of awe in his words.
Rainey crossed her arms and slouched in her seat. She appeared to be glaring at Livingston, but her gaze was set on the woman in Livingston’s arms. As though she wanted to tear the woman in half. How curious.
Nathalie sat beside Rainey, her elbows resting on her knees. Her posture was less than ladylike, but I didn’t care. When she sat like that, her sleeves nearly touched her gloves, and I saw more creamy cleavage. Several times I had to turn and discreetly adjust myself.
My God, why was I reacting this way? Better yet, when was the last time I’d been with a woman? Months? Hell, I believed it had been nearly a year. That was how consumed I had been with work. I cast a longing glance at Nat. Apparently not that consumed.