A P

ng the distance between us without moving from his seat, and I held my ground because I did not flinch, I had never flinched, I was not starting tonight. "Dance for me," he said. Eyes glued on mine. "That's what I'm here for." I stood and moved to the pole in the corner of the room, and the second I started moving his voice came again. "Slower," he said. I stopped, "Excuse me." "You heard me." "I dance how I dance Mr. Blackwood, you don't direct the performance." "I do tonight," he leaned back, completely relaxed, "slower." I moved again, slower, not because he told me to, the music called for it, that's what I was telling myself, gripping the pole and rolling my body around it, hips moving in a slow figure eight, dropping low and letting my back arch on the way up, hooking my leg around the pole and spinning down to the floor, letting my knees fall open for exactly one second then closing them and rising back up, rolling my body against the pole from hip to shoulder, slow and deliberate. I could feel him watching, the way you feel a change in temperature. I turned my back to the pole and worked my hips forward, slow, controlled, dropped into a squat and popped back up, rolling my waist in one smooth circle that made the room feel smaller. I heard him stand up. I kept dancing, kept my face forward, kept my breathing even, because I was not acknowledging that he had stood up, I was not giving him that. His footsteps were slow and unhurried crossing the room toward me, and I kept moving, kept rolling my hips, kept my eyes on the middle distance even as he got closer, even as I felt him stop directly behind me, close enough that the air between us had its own temperature. "Turn around," he said, quiet, right behind my ear. "I'm in the middle of a dance." "Turn around Zara." Something about the way he said my name did something I was choosing not to examine, I turned around. He was right there, close, looking down at me with those green eyes completely steady, and he reached out and took my hand, pulling me away from the pole toward him in one smooth movement, one hand settling on my waist, firm and certain. "I didn't say you could touch me," I said. "I know," he di