"You're late," Julian said when she walked in.Elena glanced at the clock on the wall. "By four minutes.""Three sessions in and you're developing habits." He was already in the center of the cleared space, shirtsleeves rolled up, waiting with the particular patience of a man who had decided something was worth waiting for and was mildly irritated that he'd had to."Three sessions in and you're counting minutes." She dropped her cardigan over the back of a chair and came to the center of the room. "Maybe I needed the four minutes.""For what?""To prepare myself."His eyes moved to hers. "For dancing.""For you," she said simply, and held out her hand.Something shifted in his face — quick, there and gone. He took her hand.The record was already playing, a piano doing most of the work tonight, slow and unhurried. They settled into the hold — his hand at her waist, hers at his shoulder, the careful distance they'd established over two sessions that was already slightly less careful th
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