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"I believe the song has ended," Olivia said If it wasn’t true, it would be soon

"Then we shall dance the next one"

"I have not agreed to dance with you!" She bit her lip She sounded like an idiot A petulant idiot, which was the worst kind

"You will," he said confidently

Not since Winston had told Neville Berbrooke that she was "interested" had she so badly wanted to strike another huht she could get aith it

"You don’t really have a choice," he continued

His jaw or the side of his head? Which would cause littering hot in the candlelight "You ht enjoy yourself"

The side of his head Definitely If she caht knock him off balance She’d like to see hiht strike his head on a table, or even better, grasp the tablecloth on the way down, taking the punchbowl and all of Mrs Smythe-Smith’s cut crystal with him

"Lady Olivia?"

Shards everywhere Maybe blood, too

"Lady Olivia?"

If she couldn’t actually do it, she could fantasize about it

"Lady Olivia?" He was holding out his hand

She looked over He was still upright, not a speck of blood or broken glass in sight Pity And he quite clearly expected her to accept his invitation to dance

He was, unfortunately, right She didn’t have a choice She could-and probably would-continue to insist she’d never laid eyes on hi, but they both knew the truth

Olivia wasn’t quite certain ould happen if Sir Harry announced to the ton that she’d spied on hiood The speculation would be vicious At best she’d have to hide at hoossip At worst, she could find herself engaged to marry the boor

Good God

"I would love to dance," she said quickly, taking his outstretched hand

"Enthusiase man