by Darci Balogh
The tempo of the song quickened, setting them up for the dance. Ian pulled her to him and lifted her hand into the air in perfect waltz position. She raised her other hand to his shoulder as he slowly, ever so slowly, slipped his around her body. His palm, placed underneath her shoulder blade on her back, held her firmly. His touch was strong, but gentle. His shoulder muscles were round and firm under her fingers. She had to stop herself from slipping her hand along his shoulder to his neck to touch the tattoo that twisted there, red roses wrapped in angry chains. Sofia's breath had returned, but it came quick and shallow.
The intro ended with three deep notes. Then came the unmistakable pause of The Blue Danube, the moment that simply hangs in the air just before the powerful music swells. Sofia stood in perfect form, heart pounding. Ian pressed his palm against her back, bringing her two inches closer to his chest so that they almost touched, but not quite. Sofia's eyes opened wider and she let out a small gasp. Their bodies were so close she could feel the warmth of his chest through her shirt. Ian grinned at her and, just as the waltz began, he gave her a conspiratorial wink. They began to dance.
He led her smoothly, skimming the floor and gracefully twirling with the other less competent couples. She was lost in the movement, in the feel of him using the slightest press of his palm or touch of his hand to make her go exactly where he wanted her to go. Just like when she was a little girl standing on her father's feet, it seemed as if she was lifted off of the ground. The music was enchanted, as if magic had infiltrated the notes. When she was little, she had imagined that magic could change her from a nervous schoolgirl into a beautiful lady floating across the dance floor.
But she was no longer a little girl. Not anymore.
And Ian was not her father.
Their feet flew under them as the song continued its famous strains. Ian held her eyes with his, each step, each twirl, binding them together. Mesmerized.
A sudden call broke the spell.
"Oi!" It was Henry, pointing at them from where he stood on the side of the marble floor. "You're Ian Law, aren't you?"
Sofia slowed to a stop, no longer taking cues from Ian. He came to a stop alongside her. They were both slightly out of breath.
Bridget stood next to Henry and, though she wasn't pointing, she was staring with great interest at the two of them. Sofia felt heat rise in her cheeks as she realized all of the dance class participants had stopped their own practicing and had been watching her and Ian.
"Bravo, Dr. Venegas!" Dr. Clara clapped her meaty hands together at Sofia and Ian. Ian grinned and did a partial bow before gesturing to Sofia as if she was the star.
"You are, you're Ian Law, aren't you?" Henry continued his single-minded questioning.
"At your service," Ian turned to Henry.
"From the Tellers?" Henry was impressed.
Ian's eyes crinkled in a good-natured wince. "The Robot Tellers," he corrected him.
Sofia glanced at Travis and Luna. Neither said anything but both had the same amused, knowing expressions on their faces. Sofia's brow pinched into a tiny scowl. She was never going to hear the end of this.
"Hello, do you remember me? I'm Bridget," Bridget extended her hand to Ian who took it, averted his eyes politely to the floor at her feet and gave her a partial bow. As he did, Bridget took in the tattoos on his hand and arm that disappeared underneath his black shirt. She looked quickly at Sofia and raised her eyebrows, intrigued.
"How could I forget," Ian said as he straightened.
Bridget gave him a charming smile. She gave Sofia a meaningful look and continued, "I am dying to know how you and Fifi met." She looked back and forth between Sofia and Ian, "You do know each other, don't you?"
Ian looked at Sofia quizzically and asked, "Fifi?"
"Lesson is over!" Sofia called out to the group. A groan lifted from them, but she was not going to be deterred. "We only have three hours until dinner and less than five until the ball. No more dance lessons. You all passed with flying colors. Now I need some time to get ready."
And with that, Sofia took her things and hurried out the door with Luna and Bridget close on her heels. As the door to the weapons room closed slowly behind them, she glanced back and saw that Ian and Travis were watching them leave. Travis with a sort of placid amusement. Ian with a cocky smile.
Chapter Twenty-One
Preparing for a formal party under normal circumstances could be quite an event. Preparing for a ball in a Scottish castle with only three hours to get ready and Bridget at the helm was controlled chaos. She convinced Sofia, Luna, and Angie that they should get ready together in one room like when they were teenagers. So they brought all of their toiletries, makeup, undergarments, hair supplies, shoes, and gowns into Bridget and Angie's room and set about making themselves beautiful. The whole space was a glory of fabric, sweet smells, giggling, and jostling for room at the mirror.
"Tawnyetta is getting ready with Michael," Bridget explained from the bathroom. "She needs some peace and quiet before the big night anyway. She doesn't need to get over tired in her condition."
Sofia shared a look with Luna, because they knew what the other was thinking...Lucky Tawnyetta.
"What do you think?" Angie held a sparkling aquamarine blue gown up for them to see. Form fitted down to mid-thigh, the bodice and spaghetti straps were encrusted with shimmering beads ranging from tiny to pea sized. Starting mid-thigh there were what looked like pale green seashells attached to the fabric and holding long white wisps of tulle that swept down to the floor like a waterfall and made up the skirt.
"Angie, that's gorgeous!" Luna exclaimed.
Angie beamed. "We found it at a vintage place. Bridget got hers there, too."
"Ta-da!" Bridget stepped out of the bathroom on cue donning a pale pink, off the shoulder, empress waist gown that wrapped around her bosom, pushing it up where nobody could miss it even if they tried. There were tiny puffs of material across the bust of the fabric that then draped across her arms and looked like dozens of roses spilling over her skin. The higher waist of the dress started just under her bosom, allowing the skirt to drop to the floor in long, elegant lines of the same pale pink.
"Very nice," Sofia said. "I got mine at a second hand store in London, but I don't know if it's vintage or not."
"Just you saying 'second hand store in London' makes it sound so worldly!" Bridget said with delight.
"Well, mine is brand new, but I think it still looks a little old fashioned," Luna went to the wardrobe and pulled out her gown. It was a deep orange, but still light and airy with mounds of orange and white tulle for a skirt. The bodice was simple, strapless, but had the same orange and white tulle attached to one side that would drape over her left shoulder and fall down her back like a stole.
"That's such a beautiful color," Bridget said. She turned to Sofia's dress with its white tulle skirt and black overlay of bird silhouettes. "This is stunning, Fifi. I think it might be an Oscar de la Renta." As Bridget hunted along the inside seams for a tag that would verify her guess, Sofia took her turn in the bathroom mirror.
Quiet. For a few moments anyway. Sofia took a deep breath and looked at her reflection.
Blowing the air out through her mouth, she was surprised at the calmness of her expression. There were no extra creases on her brow, no lines at the corners of her eyes, nothing that would belie the truth of what was happening inside her at this very minute. She stared into her eyes. Green like emeralds, her father had always said. She leaned closer to the mirror to look deeper into them, to see if any of the powerful emotions that were still pulsing through her body since Ian had released her on the dance floor could be seen by the naked eye. Nothing.
Wait. There was something. Deep in the ocean of her eyes she saw it. A sparkle. A glimmer of what she could only call hope. Hope that something magical was happening between her and Ian. Hope that he would dance with her again at the ball. Hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a happy ending possible for them after all
.
Bridget popped her blonde head in the bathroom door. "It is Oscar de la Renta!"
Sofia smiled. Lifted by Bridget's enthusiasm, she did her hair and makeup. She decided to keep her hair loose, teasing and adding product to give it more volume than normal as it cascaded over her bare shoulders and back. She wore a black velvet choker with a glittering pendent in the center around her throat, and teardrop shaped black diamond earrings Tawnyetta had lent her from her Lady MacBrody jewelry stash. With just enough makeup on her eyes to bring out their green even more and a splash of her favorite red lipstick, Sofia was ready to face the evening. Though her insides quivered with anticipation.
At the formal dinner served in the dining room known as Stag Hall, Sofia looked for Ian. He wasn't there. Disappointed, she was able to distract herself by meeting and getting to know Thomas' new girlfriend, Marin.
Marin was pretty enough, light brown hair cut stylishly in a shoulder length do, pale blue eyes that she'd inexplicably done up for the evening with purple and pink eye shadow. Sofia guessed she was trying to match her eggplant colored gown, but the look was not sophisticated. She watched Bridget barely give the poor thing a cursory glance as she flounced past her in her pale pink goddess dress. If there was one thing Bridget couldn't abide, it was poorly done makeup. Especially on the woman who had taken Thomas away from their inner group.
"This is Sofia," Thomas ignored Bridget's rebuff of his girlfriend and focused on introducing her to Sofia.
"Very nice to meet you," Sofia smiled and shook Marin's hand, which seemed frail and cold. She was a little thing and appeared to Sofia to be a bit overwhelmed at this whole Scottish castle experience. Still, Thomas looked happy. And that's all that mattered in the end.
The ballroom looked fantastic. Full of people and gorgeous lighting, Sofia was reminded of the sheer magnificence of this place. Laird and Lady MacBrody made their entrance. Tawnyetta looked so elegant in her strapless black gown that Sofia almost didn't recognize her at first. The beautifully cut bodice showed off her fuller figure, caused by her pregnancy, on top while a wide ruched skirt gave the dress volume and grace. She looked like a Queen in a fairy tale. Under the sections of the skirt that had been lifted and re-attached to give the ruche effect, there were slivers of grey silk peeking through the black. Standing next to Michael in his black and grey tartan kilt and tailored black jacket, they were positively regal.
"Doesn't she look amazing," Bea said what they were all thinking. She and Travis had arrived at the party shortly after Sofia. Sofia nodded in agreement. "And this," Bea touched one of the bird silhouettes on Sofia's skirt. "This is really spectacular."
"I'm glad you found it," Sofia answered with a laugh. She felt beautiful in this dress. Stylish and femininely chic. A giddy excitement had come over her at the formal dinner and had filled her completely since entering the ballroom. Anticipation. This was something she normally tried to keep in check, always the realist. This night was different somehow, Sofia thought. She felt different.
The orchestra had started to play. Michael led Tawnyetta to the dance floor and kicked off the festivities with a waltz. As other couples followed suit, Sofia heard the sound of a man clearing his throat. She turned to see Travis, looking a little sick to his stomach, holding his hand gallantly out to his wife.
"Bea?" Travis said, trying to get her attention. He glanced at Sofia with a nervous smile. She gave him a supportive grin then nudged Bea gently.
"Bea, Travis has a question for you," she said, indicating Travis with a nod of her head.
Bea turned and was taken aback by the genteel way her husband was addressing her.
Travis spoke again, this time with more confidence. "May I have this dance?"
"What?" Bea's surprise popped out of her in a high-pitched question. Her gaze flicked around, as if looking for others in on the joke.
Travis cleared his throat again. "May I have this dance, Mrs. Prescott?"
Bea giggled. "Don't be silly," she waved at him as if he was a pesky fly.
Sofia, sensing Travis' determination beginning to wane, stepped in. "He's not joking, Bea. He had dance lessons this afternoon." Bea looked at her with disbelief. "He's quite good," Sofia reassured her.
Watching Travis lead an astonished Bea to the dance floor warmed her heart. It appeared that Henry had already asked Liza as she could see them moving efficiently, if not beautifully, across the floor. Soon she expected to see Professor Shipley and Dr. Clara out there as well. Sofia glanced around. There was still no sign of Ian. The excited buzzing feeling she had been experiencing was beginning to dull.
"Looking for Mr. Wonderful?" Bridget asked. She had approached when Sofia was scanning the room for Ian. Her big blue eyes twinkled with mischief as she sipped a glass of champagne.
"Mr. Who?" Sofia responded innocently.
"Champagne?" Luna joined them, offering Sofia one of the two flutes she held in her hands.
Bridget scoffed lightly, "Or maybe that's not his name." She turned slowly, searching across all of the faces in the ballroom. "He looked more like a Mr. Rebel or Mr. Dangerous to me."
"Who are we talking about?" Angie asked. She, too, had been on a mission to find champagne and returned. She took a sip as she tried to catch up on the conversation.
Sofia gratefully accepted the champagne Luna offered her and took such a big swig that the bubbles went up her nose and made her choke and cough. This, however, was not enough of a distraction to deter Bridget from finding out more about Ian.
"We are talking about the guy with the rock band, Gigi," Bridget said to Angie. "He's tall, lean, ginger like you, with tattoos. Super sexy." She wiggled her eyebrows up and down as her voice changed to a sing-song tone, "And he's a good dancer!"
"Hullo," a man's voice came from behind them.
All four women pivoted to find Ian standing directly behind them.
Eyes wide, Bridget swallowed hard then said, "Hello."
Sofia started to speak, but the choking fit she had experienced just moments ago lingered in her throat and she found herself coughing, eyes watering, and wishing she could escape. But she could barely breathe, let alone escape.
"Are you okay?" Ian stepped forward and took her arm. Sofia tried to shake him off and say she was okay, but the tickle in her throat made her cough even harder.
"Maybe she needs air," Angie suggested.
Ian took hold of her and led her quickly through the crowd, Sofia snorting and choking as they went. He took her onto a side balcony off the ballroom, followed by Angie, Bridget, and Luna. The balcony was decorated with tiny white lights and had a nice view of the formal garden. Sofia was no longer choking, but she allowed herself to be escorted out of the ballroom to avoid the looks their ungraceful exit was receiving.
"I'm fine, really," she insisted as she turned to face Ian. When she got a good look at him in the glow of the white lights her heart skipped a beat. He wore a solid black tuxedo with shining lapels, a black shirt and a black silk tie. His beard had been neatly trimmed, and he smelled amazing. He still wore his silver rings and for some reason she found this detail titillating.
"Do you want some water or something?" Ian's face was full of concern. His hand lingered near her elbow as if ready to catch her should she faint.
"We'll get her some water," Luna said loudly.
"We don't all three–" Bridget began to argue, but Luna interrupted by tugging both Bridget and Angie's arms insistently.
"We'll go find some water and bring it back," Luna called out over her shoulder to Sofia as she quickly led a befuddled Bridget and concerned Angie back into the crowded ballroom.
Ian watched them with a smile then turned his golden eyes to her. "Your friends are funny."
"Yes," Sofia slipped her gaze from him and let it follow the backs of her three friends as they disappeared. At the very last moment, Luna looked back at her. Catching her eye, her cousin smiled excitedly. Sofia knew she'd left her alone with Ian on purpose. "They're the bes
t."
She looked back to Ian. Even dressed to the nines, Ian Law had an edge to him. One that couldn't be erased by formal wear. Muffled sounds of orchestral music came from the closed doors. The damp night air was chilly, but felt good after the warmth of the crowded ballroom. She was thankful for it, actually, because it kept her from overheating due to her pounding heart.
"You look handsome," she said.
He dipped his head, a little bashful, dropping his eyes to the floor, and she was completely charmed. As good looking as he was, and a talented showman as well, Ian had a humble streak at times that was utterly adorable.
He leaned in and lifted his eyes to hers. Those hypnotic golden eyes. "You look amazing," he spoke softly, and the deep tones of his voice were like velvet brushing against her skin. Sofia sucked in her breath as a delicious tickle shimmied across her bare shoulders.
"Thank you," she managed, but it was barely a whisper. No problem. Ian was so close, he heard her perfectly. The corners of his eyes crinkled into a smile and Sofia fought the urge to reach out and touch his beard. She wanted to touch his beard so badly it made her stomach tight.
"I mean...that dress..." he let his eyes drop from hers and move appreciatively over her cheeks and lips, down her throat and to her cleavage that lifted with each breath from underneath her second hand Oscar de la Renta. Sofia silently blessed Bea for finding it at the thrift store. His gaze lingered there and warmth filled her entire body. She wondered if he was fighting the urge to touch her as well. After a few moments when Sofia thought she might burst if he didn't pull her to him and kiss her, Ian shook off whatever thought was holding him and returned his gaze to hers. He glanced around, verifying they were still alone on the patio then looked back to her. "Sofia..." he hesitated.