Page 39 of A Royal Mistake

She glared daggers at him.

Brothers are the worst.

Resigned to her fate, Pippa pasted a smile on her face as Gabriel took her hand and led her toward the dance floor. Even through her silk gloves, she could tell his hands were soft and warm, nothing like Henry’s, which were calloused from long days and hard work.

Where was he, anyway?

She scanned the ballroom, looking for Henry’s face in the sea of bodies. Had he decided not to come? The thought of him bailing hurt more than she cared to admit. Not only because he was supposed to be running interference with her horde of suitors, but because she owed him a dance.

Surely he’d come to collect. The bet had been his idea, after all.

The dance ended, and the orchestra transitioned to a new song, the opening notes of Blue Danube carrying across the ballroom. Gabriel spun to face her, lifting her right hand to eye level, and placed his right hand on her shoulder blade, just under her left arm. His grip was as confident as the smile on his face.

She dipped her chin, and they began to move, keeping time with the music. Gabriel was a graceful dancer, nimble and light on his feet, despite his formidable stature. They glided across the marble dance floor as the music rose and fell, the sea of bodies parting for them at every turn.

“You’re a wonderful dancer,” Gabriel said as she twirled under his arm, her full skirt swirling around her ankles.

“Thank you.” Was it her imagination, or did she sound like a panting dog? Between the pace of the dance and the too tight gown, she felt like she was gasping for breath. How the hell was Gabriel not winded?

Proper dancing attire, that’s how.

I’ll bet his suit even has pockets.

“Should we expect another elimination after tonight?”

She started at the bold question, but quickly recovered, flashing a serene smile. “Are you worried?”

“Why would I be worried?” Gabriel winked at her conspiratorially. “I’m a phenomenal dancer.”

The man knew his way around a ballroom, but when he winked at her like that? She wanted to cut him on the spot.

Figuratively, of course.

“Besides, we’re a strong match,” he continued, oblivious to the fact that the more he talked, the closer he moved to elimination. Lucky for Gabriel, Their Majesties favored him. If she ever wanted to see her trust fund, she’d need a better reason than arrogance to send him packing. “I’ll be the ruler of Spain one day. A marriage between our houses would solidify relations between our countries. Just think, one day our child could rule, something that will never happen here in Valeria.”

She clenched her teeth so hard it was a wonder she didn’t crack a molar. Did he really think her top priority was producing heirs to rule in a foreign land? Even if she cared about such things, she had dreams—important ones—and she wasn’t about to sacrifice them to become a royal baby maker. What Gabriel offered was another gilded cage, and she was going to tell him exactly where he could stuff his—

“Excuse me.” A rich baritone washed over her and she missed a step.

Henry.

Anticipation raced up her spine, and she pivoted toward him, tromping on Gabriel’s foot. Gabriel grunted, but she ignored him, eyes fixed on Henry. Her heart fluttered as she looked him over, taking in the sharp, black tux, the overly polished shoes, and the sexy scruff she longed to touch. Sweet Jesus, he was breathtaking.

“Do you mind if I cut in?” he asked. “The lady owes me a dance.”

* * *

Cuttingin mid-waltz was likely to set tongues wagging at court, but as Henry had watched Pippa glide across the dancefloor with Prince Gabriel, each dip and twirl hitting him like a sucker punch in the gut, he’d abandoned the pretense of self-control and given in to the base instinct to claim her for his own.

Just for one night.

After all, hadn’t she invited him for the sole purpose of disrupting her courtship?

Gabriel stared at him, mouth slightly agape, so he repeated the question. “Do you mind if I cut in?”

The prince started to argue, but Pippa cut him off, her voice as sweet as honey. “Not at all, Herr von der Recke. As you said, I owe you a dance, and I always keep my word.”

She thanked the prince for the dance and curtseyed as he looked between the two of them, seemingly at a loss for words. Finally, Gabriel seemed to realize he was being dismissed. He gave a curt bow and turned on his heel, disappearing into the crush of twirling bodies.