Chapter Eighteen

THIS EARLY, THE dance floor is sparsely attended, so when Ravi leads Harry out onto it—or more accurately, when Harry allows herself to be led—they are one of only a handful of dancers. He glances around before he can rein in his nerves. Eyes from all corners, scrutinizing their every move. He takes a deep, steadying breath. Music swells up from the speakers. He extends a hand, and with an exaggerated curtsey, Harry takes it.

Ravi leads them in a simple waltz, the usual ballroom fare. This seems to suit Harry just fine, as she’s mostly using the pretense of dancing to case the room over his shoulder. Ravi does likewise, again finding Nate looking so exceedingly fine in his tuxedo, laughing with one of the younger Preston siblings. He’s got a smile that makes everyone else’s look dull and lifeless by comparison.

“Still all clear?”

“Seems like it,” he says on the downbeat, snapping his attention back to Harry.

“Thank fuck for that.” She rests a hand on his shoulder and leans in, dancing close. “You look thinky. What’s up?”

He nibbles his lip. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I think you’re right.”

“Gonna have to be more specific. I’m always right.”

“I’m thinking about…how you were right. About before. There’s nothing they can do. If the worst our detractors can do is lob some mild insults our way, then…they’re toothless. If they had anything real to use against us, they would have made nice to hide their true intentions. Not bothered with petty insults.” He chews on this a little more, the implications setting a fresh zing of nervousness in his stomach. “I’m thinking…we’re following the bylaws, so…”

Harry grins, no doubt already seeing where he’s going with this. “So?”

“So maybe we do get to do whatever we want.”

“Maybe?”

“Okay, not just maybe.” With a sudden sidestep he leads her into a spin. She laughs and moves through it.

Ravi swallows, glancing past Harry. Nate’s already watching him, the wistful admiration in his expression making Ravi’s chest tighten. “And I’ve been wasting time playing by the rules.”

“You should do it,” Harry says softly, squeezing his shoulder.

“Do what?”

“Don’t kid a kidder. You want to ask him to dance.”

“I… Yeah. I do.”

Harry leans up to kiss his cheek. “Do it, you dummy.”

Ravi ducks his head, embarrassed at the shy flutter that has set up shop behind his ribs. “But this is your day, Harry. I can’t. It’ll steal focus—”

“Can’t steal what’s freely given.” She sways to a stop, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Honestly, Rav, take one thing for yourself once in a while, geez. You have my blessing. If anyone asks, I’ll insinuate we’re in a hip, modern polyamorous triad thing. Really give these stuffed shirts something to gossip about.” She winks outrageously.

Clocking movement on their flank, Ravi picks Harry up by her waist and spins her to his other side, disguising it as a dance move, before setting her back down on her feet. She swallows a little squawk of surprise, but otherwise keeps her cool. Ravi turns to the unfamiliar man approaching with a wary glare.

Very tall and very handsome, a man with a mane of sorrel hair silvered prematurely at the temples places a hand over his chest, giving them each a polite bow. “Sorry, didn’t mean to alarm you. I just wanted to introduce myself. And hopefully ask if I might be so bold as to request the next dance, It’s-just-Harry McAllister?” He smiles widely at Harry.

Astonishingly, Harry’s pulse quickens in her wrist under Ravi’s steadying touch. Very interesting. But whether she likes him or not, certain rituals of betrothal have to be upheld.

“Ravi Abhiramnew.” He offers a hand. The man is mid-to-late thirties, appears unarmed, though he carries himself like he knows how to throw a punch. Not nearly as polished as most of the other Trusties here. Rugged, a little sun-worn, the back of his hands scarred. His tux is brand new, off-the-rack but well-tailored, and his handshake firm and steady.

“It’s a pleasure. Javier Mason.”

Harry shakes his hand. “Harry McAllister, but everyone knows that. I’m old news.”

Mason’s smile is slow and sincere. “Not to me. I just arrived. I understand I have you and your team to thank for saving my branch from certain interdimensional doom.”

“You know, I heard the same rumor.” She favors him with a sardonic smile, fiddling at the clipped-back section of her hair.

Ravi glances askance at Harry. Neither of them has spontaneously developed telepathy, but it hardly makes a difference.

You want to dance with this guy?

Duh. Scoot.

He hides a smile. “You’ve accumulated a few rumors yourself, Mason. Is that thing about the yeti true?”

Javier laughs richly. “That’s a long story.”

“I’m sure Harry would be delighted to hear it.” There’s no sign of Constance, but Val is only a few yards away. Plus, Harry is armed. Safe enough to leave her side for a short while. Besides, Ravi wants badly to talk to Nate. “I’m going to sit out the next dance, I think. Can I trust you to keep my fiancée entertained?” He narrows his gaze, just a fraction. A clear warning, though politely issued, like any good consort should.

Mason catches it and readily relinquishes eye contact, his tone deferential. “It would be my honor. If I may?” He holds out a hand to Harry with a peculiar flourish to his wrist that Ravi recognizes but can’t place. Seems like Mason enjoys a bit of showmanship.

“Sure, I don’t mind,” Harry says coolly, as if she’s doing Mason a favor, and takes his hand. Surreptitiously, she winks at Ravi. “See you later, honeybunny.”

Striding off the dance floor to make a beeline toward Nate, Ravi catches a glimpse of a sour face aimed his way. Jessika Eaton. When she realizes she’s been caught looking, she tosses her hair and turns her back.

Perhaps there’s an opportunity in disguise. A chance to right a wrong.

Ravi catches up to Nate as the professor leaves one group to start mingling with another. “Hey,” he says as he steps up, so as not to startle.

Nate turns around, his bright party smile shifting into something deeper, more sincere. “Hey! How’s everything going?”

“Good. Really good.”

Nate exhales in relief. He pitches his voice low so as not to be overheard. “Thank Christ. Or whoever. And you’re okay? I know parties aren’t your thing.”

“To say the least.” Ravi’s mouth tugs into a crooked smile. “But this one is better because you’re here.”

Nate clears his throat, then glances around with a casual nod. “Yeah, having the team at your back is probably a nice change from the norm.”

“It is,” Ravi agrees, taking a small step closer. “But I wasn’t talking about the team.”

Nate’s eyes go wide, a blush rising above his collar. A pleased smile touches his lips before he takes a long quaff of champagne to cover it. “I’m trying to be good, here. Supportive teammate. Doing whatever you two need me to do, which includes keeping my eyes where they should be.”

“Oh, yeah? Thought I saw you looking before.”

“Well, yeah. You guys looked amazing out there, everyone was getting an eyeful. Don’t think Harry stepped on your feet once, that’s a bonus.”

Ravi bites his lip and takes a breath. “Actually, that’s… Can I introduce you to someone?”

“Sure. Is it someone terrifying? You’re acting a little off.”

“Yeah. I mean, no, she’s not terrifying. I just—” Ravi closes his eyes briefly to collect himself, then stands up straight with renewed confidence. “I want to introduce you to the woman I was supposed to get engaged to.”

“Oh! Yeah, okay.” Nate falls into step beside Ravi as they weave their way toward Jessika. “You want me to, what? Lay on the charm, smooth her ruffled feathers about Harry?”

“Not exactly. Just be yourself.”

“No problem. Don’t really know how to not be myself, to be honest.”

“I’ve noticed.” Ravi slides a warm, wide smile over his shoulder, and Nate’s step hitches.

Jessika glares sidelong at Ravi as they approach, pointedly ignoring them in favor of her conversation with an older Cattano brother.

“Jessika.”

She stretches out a pause to the limits of socially acceptable politeness before she faces him, flicking a dismissive glance Nate’s way. He detects a hint of curiosity before she schools it away.

“Why, Ravi, I’m surprised you’re still here. Seeing as how you get so easily bored.” The Cattano carefully backs away, looking for all the world like a man avoiding ground he knows is covered in landmines. “Congratulations on your engagement. I hope you’ll be very happy together.” Sincerity is buried under Jessika’s arch tone, Ravi notes with interest.

“I’d hoped we’d get a moment to talk.” He glances at Nate, silently appealing to him to wait a moment. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior when we had dinner. You have every right to despise me.”

She looks taken aback, quickly masking it with a very Padme-like sniff. “I do have every right. You were just awful to me.”

“I know. I’m not going to make excuses for myself. But I want you to know that I am sorry.”

She squints at him suspiciously, then looks over toward where Harry is still mid-dance with Mason. “I suppose…I suppose you had a reason to put me off. Were you two an item before she was Chosen?”

“Ah. No. You’re not…completely wrong though. I did have a reason.” Ravi pulls Nate over by his elbow. Nate shoots him a surprised, puzzled look. “May I introduce you to Dr. Nate Corbin?” And feeling like he’s stepping off a cliff blindfolded, Ravi lays his hand on Nate’s forearm and keeps it there.

Clearly confused, Jessika nods at Nate before she notices Ravi’s hand. Her brows fly upward. “Oh. Oh.” She stares blankly at Ravi. “Oh.”

He swallows another quaver of nerves, glancing at Nate to gauge his comfort level. Nate’s expression is…strange. His gaze is locked on Ravi, but not in affront or alarm. More like the rest of the room has disappeared, and Ravi’s the only thing worth looking at.

“So…” Jessika lays a hand over her throat. “Sorry, this is a surprise, to say the least. I mean, it’s fine, don’t get me wrong. Okay. Wow. Was this…a new…revelation?”

“No.”

“Well, this sheds light on some things. When we were kids, I thought…I thought maybe you were trying to play us girls off each other, making us compete for you. Thought maybe you got a kick out of it.”

He doesn’t bother disguising his distaste. “No.”

“No, I can see that. Well.” Jessika blinks a few times, then purses her lips together as she looks back toward Harry. “And everything is…” She’s clearly uncertain how to finish her sentence.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Huh.” She watches as Harry finishes dancing with Mason and heads off with him to the champagne fountain. Her pretty face flickers with calculations before she turns back to Ravi, smiling wryly. “Nicely played, sugar.”

He huffs a laugh, sliding his elbow through Nate’s. “Thanks.” He keeps his attention on the conversation, though he knows there must be dozens of eyes upon him, picking apart his every move and hint of emotion. In India, two male friends linking arms isn’t remarkable, but the Western families are going to be wagging tongues for sure. “At dinner, you mentioned bringing The Trust into the modern era. I’m interested in hearing more about your ideas.”

Jessika’s smile is delighted and sincere. “You should be. They’re great ideas. And now that the Eaton name has been cleared of those ridiculous charges, I’ll be in a much better position to implement them.” She tosses long hair over her shoulder and levels a very white smile at Nate. “It has just been a delight to meet you, Dr. Corbin. A little ray of sunshine in this stuffy party.”

“Yeah,” says Nate distantly, sparing her a tiny fraction of his attention away from Ravi. “It has been that.”

“I should apologize too,” she says to Ravi with a wince. “I said some pretty unkind things to you.”

“I was being a massive prick. It’s understandable.”

“You’re a darn good actor, sugar. You know, it’s too bad we couldn’t be more honest with each other back when we were kids. I think we could have been friends.”

Ravi gives her a broad smile. “Maybe we can make up for lost time.”

Jessika goes a bit pink under her tan, then gives Nate a significant arch of her thin brows. Nate just grins widely, cinching his arm a little tighter around Ravi’s.

“You have my number?”

“I’ll call you,” Ravi promises, “and thanks, Jessika.”

“Thank you, sugar.” Her smile shifts into a wicked curve. “Isabella’s going to be madder than a wet hen. Just for that alone, consider my forgiveness granted.” She smooths her dress over her hips and saunters off.

Ravi breathes out. “Sorry. I should have…I should have warned you. Or asked permission.”

“Don’t worry about it, my guy.” Nate appears slightly dazed, like he’s floating with his feet unbound from the floor. He looks down at their linked arms. “So… Isn’t this going to make things difficult for you? For Harry?”

“It’s a tactically sound strategy, honestly,” Ravi admits, having given it a fair amount of thought. “Anyone gunning for us will jump on the opportunity to discredit us. This way, we can predict exactly how they’ll come at us. Try to draw them out.”

Nate snorts, shaking his head. “Always working the angles,” he says fondly. “Very smart.”

“Nah,” Ravi says, ears warm. “I’m just a guy with a gun.”

“Pfft. And Constance is just a simple peasant girl, and Val’s just a CrossFit enthusiast. You’re not ‘just’ anything, Ravi Abhiramnew. But…the engagement. Are you sure Harry—”

“Nate.” Ravi gently disentangles arms to step in front of Nate. “Harry’s given her blessing. Besides, she’s bulletproof. Maybe I am too.” With a courtly bow, Ravi extends his hand palm up, letting his smile shine through unfettered and free. “Nathaniel. Will you dance with me?”

Throat bobbing, Nate whispers, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“And here you always go on about me jumping headlong into trouble.” Grinning, Nate takes Ravi’s hand and follows him to the dance floor. Ravi draws him out to the middle, not paying the slightest attention to who he’s brushing past, the whispers that rise around them.

“You should lead,” Nate murmurs, casting a worried glance around. “Better optics. So they don’t think…”

“Nate, I couldn’t care less about optics or what any of them think.” Ravi hates being the center of attention, of being watched and judged and found wanting…but somehow, right now none of that bothers him. Let them stare. He’ll give them something worth looking at. He pulls Nate’s right hand up onto his shoulder and places their palms together. “But I will lead.” He grasps Nate’s waist tightly and reels him in close.

Nate gasps, focusing in on Ravi completely. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mm-hm.” Ravi places his feet with precision, as if he were in ready stance for a fencing bout. “Got a secret for you.”

The last vestiges of apprehension melting, Nate smiles at him, golden and glowing. “I do love secrets.”

Ravi leans in so his lips barely brush Nate’s ear. “I’m a very good dancer.” Then he grins, and on the swell of the music guides Nate into a lively Viennese waltz. Nate laughs with surprise, following along. After a few steps, he’s got the rhythm of it, and they carve out a section of the dance floor just for them.

“Aren’t you full of surprises, sunshine.” Nate’s face is flushed and vibrant, and Ravi doesn’t want to look at anything else.

“I try.” He steps them around another couple, letting his feet follow the music. “This is a thing my mom and her brother taught me. Dancing.”

“Really?” Nate brightens, as if Ravi sharing this with him was a cherished gift. It occurs to Ravi that he’s never once told Nate about a happy memory from his childhood. He’s got a few.

“They dropped in on a ballroom lesson when I was about eleven. They watched for less than a minute before insisting that the tutor was doing it all wrong. They sent her away and started teaching me themselves.”

He’d stood on his Uncle Nirav’s feet to learn the steps. His mother had looked so beautiful when she laughed. She did it so rarely.

Ravi shifts Nate into a faster style, the movements a little snappier, the steps closer. “Including the tango. Think you can keep up?”

“Nope, but I’m thrilled to be along for the ride.” But Nate matches Ravi’s moves without issue, some inner synchronicity at work keeping them in perfect step. After a few turns Ravi moves them into the wide, sweeping steps of a bolero, chests so close a sideways hand wouldn’t fit between them.

Delighted, Nate laughs, holding on tight. “This is really brave of you, Ravi.”

Ravi tips his head back to meet Nate’s eyes. A brace of butterflies is set free behind his heart, wings fluttering with every breath he takes. “I think she would have liked you. My mom.”

Nate nearly misses a step. Ravi quickly compensates with a half-turn. “I…” Nate flushes and can’t seem to look away from Ravi’s face. “You think?”

“Yeah. She hated artifice. Fake smiles, fake people. You’re…you’re real. Honest.” He snags his lip between his teeth for a moment before continuing. “Do you remember that night I came over to your place a total wreck?”

“The time we slept on the couch? Vividly.”

“Do you remember what you told me?” He slows them down into a close, simple sway, their surroundings falling away, music fading, as if they’d danced their way through an unseen portal into a private vignette of space, the whole of the universe nothing but the two of them holding each other close.

“Remind me,” Nate says in a tiptoeing hush.

“You told me that anyone who said love hurts isn’t doing it right.” Ravi takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “I know this is new, between us. I’ve got no idea what I’m doing. But…I want to…do it right. With you.”

The words leave his chest and Ravi is lighter, cutting away an iron shackle he hadn’t realized was there, a burden he hadn’t known he was carrying. For a moment he’s lightheaded, weightless, finding his footing.

Nate sucks in a shuddering breath and presses their foreheads together. “Ravi. I want that too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want to be with you, Ravi. To build something lasting. I’ve wanted that for a while, but I needed you to have time to decide if you wanted it too. Needed you to be sure of me.”

Relief and joy wash through Ravi so fast he would swear it’s shining from his pores, bubbling up headier than champagne. “I’m sure. I don’t need another month to know that.”

He swings Nate out into an open hip twist. Nate laughs at the unexpected move, and when Ravi reels him back, he sets both hands on Ravi’s shoulders, grinning bright and vibrant and happy. They move together, heedless of observers, matching steps in perfect time. Daring a puckish wink, Ravi takes Nate’s hands and twirls him into a spin, arm extended.

Strangely, it feels like he misses a step, like the whole room jumps between one blink and the next. When Ravi pulls his arm back in, his dance partner spins in to bump right into his chest.

Cayenne looks up at Ravi with a smile.