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“We were working on the waltz when you forgot to move forward with your left foot, so you stepped on my right foot. Rather hard.”

Graynor winced. “I am sorry for that. I haven’t had much use for dancing in the business world.”

Eleanor stepped into his space and placed a hand on his shoulder. She took his other hand in hers and looked up at him. “I would think with your success and network of contacts, you would have been invited to many parties and balls.”

“I have been. Doesn’t mean I danced at them. I was mostly in back rooms or studies finalizing deals.”

His blue eyes looked down into hers, and Eleanor felt a thrill rush down her spine. What would it be like to be able to look into those eyes for the rest of her life?

“What is it?”

Eleanor’s thoughts cleared. “Hmm?”

Graynor dipped his head. “Just now, you were looking at me… in a certain way.”

Eleanor’s eyes widened in horror. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” She inwardly cringed at how fast the words rushed out.

To his credit, Graynor only smiled and didn’t push for more. “I see. Well,” he lifted their hands, “should we get this over with?”

He began to move them around in a tight little square as she counted the steps out loud.

Eleanor couldn’t help but notice how nicely their bodies lined up against each other. He was tall, but not so tall that her arm that rested on his shoulder was reaching.

The hand she was holding tightened around hers. She looked up into his eyes and saw the concentration in them.

“You’re doing fine, Your Grace.”

Graynor’s shoulders released under her touch, and she felt a certain thrill of him following her instructions.

Eleanor continued to count the dance steps when she felt a small movement against her hip. The Duke’s thumb was counting the steps along with her instruction. Each little thump went straight to her core. Suddenly, she became very aware of how close their bodies actually were. Her thoughts started to run away from her. She couldn’t help but think of his hands touching other parts of her body.

She needed to get her thoughts back on track.

“Relax your shoulders, you’re very stiff,” she instructed.

A devilish grin widened on Graynor’s face. “Yes, it seems to be a problem I’ve been having lately.”

Eleanor, puzzled, looked up at Graynor. “Are you ill? I know after a restless night, I often wake with a sore neck. A warm compress always helps me. Shall I ring for one?”

Graynor laughed, the joy in it echoing off the walls in the parlor. “No, I promise my neck is fine. Although, I have been having restless nights lately.”

“Is everything adequate with your room?”

Graynor rolled his lips, trying to hide his smile. A frustrating habit she had noticed he had been doing more within the last few days.

“What is so funny, Your Grace?” She pulled out of his arms and stepped back.

“Nothing at all. Why did you stop?”

Eleanor huffed and crossed her arms in front of her. “Because I feel like you have some sort of inside joke that I am not privy to, and I fear it is at my own cost, and it’s unsettling.”

Once again, the Duke tried to hide his smile. Only this time, he failed, and chuckles erupted out of him.

Fed up, Eleanor turned and started towards the door. She was done with his foolery and refused to stand there and be the subject of his mirth.

Graynor reached out and grabbed her arm before she got too far.

“Hold on—wait a minute. Come back.” He turned her, so she was back to facing him. He placed his hands on shoulders, so she couldn’t move. “I’m sorry. Truly, I was not making fun of you in any respect. It’s just I forget sometimes.”