“Do I know you?” A voice drifts over my shoulder making me jump. I spin round to find myself face to face with some man. I blink.
“I don’t think so, no.” I say stoutly.
“Oh shame, would have been nice to know someone.” The man says. His voice isn’t old, he must only be a little older than me. His face is covered with a mask (I’m very glad I took mum’s, I almost forgot it was a masked ball.) but I can see his dark hair and pale skin.
“Mm, I’m sorry to disappoint.” I say, looking away over my shoulder.
“Oh that’s okay. I’ll forgive you.” He says. He’s standing quite close.
“How wonderful; I’m most pleased.” I say. Sarcasm drips into my voice.
“Aren’t you a polite creature?” He says, I can almost hear him smiling.
“I am not a creature thank you very much!” I say indignantly. Stepping back I sweep my dress away from him. Looking him up and down I realize he is quite hot.
Oops. Perhaps I should have been nicer. He laughs.
“You are curious m’dear.” He says with a chuckle.
“I don’t know whether to thank you?” Raising an eyebrow I cross my arms.
“Did I ask your name?” He says smoothly.
“No, you’ve been calling me creature.” I say coldly. He laughs again.
“Well I’m most sorry. What’s your name?” I’m about to say Adrianna Howards when I realize that I’m not supposed to be here so maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea. Desperately I try to think of another posh name I could use to cover up.
“Adrianna Parfait.” My mind drifted to French when I thought of that.
“Well, Miss Perfect, care to dance?” He extends a hand and I stare at it.
“It’s Parfait, it’s French. And I don’t dance.” I say. I can put on a posh voice all I like but I can’t dance!
“I could change that?” I says.
“I don’t think you could.” I reply quickly.
“Prove me wrong then. C’mon little Miss Perfect, let’s dance.” His hand closed round my wrist and he tugged me forward onto the dance floor.
Pulling against him as impossible; he had the strength of ten men! I stared at the sea of faces as I stumbled forward and into the limelight. Couples waltzed past and I felt a waft as one couple zoomed by, spinning and spinning. Some ladies hand flicked almost into my face and I flinched.
“Oh shit.” I mumbled. My heart hammered in my chest.
“What was that?” The guy, I don’t even know his name, said.
“Oh nothing. I really don’t dance, please can I go.” I say, looking desperately into his eyes, pleading.
“No, you’ll do fine. Trust me.” He whispered.
“I don’t even know your name-” I say but I get cut off as he pushes me back a little and spins me round. My heart drops, oh my gosh - I’m going to embarrass myself.
A hand closing round my waist and moving closer and closer this guy honestly is trying to make me dance! I can feel each of his fingers pressing through the silk of my dress. Then the pressure increases and he’s pushing my upwards. Gasping my eyes flash to his. Realization dawns and then I get it - he’s picking me up. He places me gently on his toes.
