Purple Is The Color of Passion

Chapter 8

"Ms. Harrison, how are you?" 

Dynasty graced a smile upon her face as she gave her attention to the man before her. "I'm fine, thank you."

"I noticed you across the room and I couldn't help but admire your beauty."

Dynasty had to bit her tongue, a smart retort nearly spilling from her lips. "You are too nice."

He smiled down at her before bowing formally and reaching for her hand. She allowed him to take her hand and kissed it before pulling it away. 

"I am Sir Benedict Weaselly White. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

He was a tall man, his hair was a soft auburn color, his skin was pale making his hair seem to stand out all the more. His eyes were green, dark, like fallen leaves in autumn. 

"The same goes for you Sir Benedict." She said with a feigned smile. It had taken her mother days to persuade her to attend another party. Male attention was the last thing on her mind.

"I hope that you wouldn't mind dancing with an admirer?" He said with a soft smile.

The word no sat at the tip of her tongue and just as she opened her mouth to say so her attention was suddenly caught by a familiar figure. An angry blush crept up her neck and blotched her cheeks. Adam, in all his handsome glory was making rounds, his eyes searching through the crowd.

Dynasty's self-pity and sadness had gone and now all that remained was a hot, almost tangible anger. She stared at him from across the room, her eyes lit with fire. He finally found what he was looking for in the mass of people and his eyes landed on her. They stared at each other from where they stood on opposite ends of the vast room.

And then he began to make his way toward her, gently yet swiftly pushing his way through the crowd. Her pulse quickened and despite herself excitement coursed through her veins. She turned toward the man in front of her. "I'll gladly dance with you." She said as she offered him her hand.

A smile spread across his face and he took her hand, leading her onto the dance floor. He held her somewhat stiffly as the music played softly around them. They danced in an awkward silence for a while, until Dynasty could take no more.

"Tell me about yourself." She said, trying to pacify the urge to pull away from him.

His eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "I'm a simple man, really. There's nothing much to tell."

"How old are you?"

He caught her off guard by twirling her and then pulling her back. She couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up inside her.

"Twenty-six. And you?"

She was smiling at him now, her belly bubbling with the silliness of the twirl from moments ago. "Don't you know it's rude to ask a lady her age?"

He chuckled. "I seem to have lost my manners." He winked at her playfully and she laughed.

"I'm eighteen."

"A wonderful age."

"Is it?"

The music suddenly shifted, a slower song drifting slowly through across the floor.

Warmth spread across the small of her back and then she pulled back against a broad chest. "I hope you don't mind if I cut in?"

A blush spread across Dynasty's cheeks and she started to protest but they were already dancing, Adam's hand grasping hers tight, his arm pulling her closer than what was necessary for a proper dance. She glared up at him, fire burning in her dark blue orbs. For if looks could truly kill he'd be a bloody mess on the dance floor. He let his eyes roam over her face, a feeling of calm washing over him at having her so close.