“Are you ready for that dance?” he continued, turning his attention fully onto Katrina, dismissing the other man with a cold shoulder.

The man withdrew, muttering something unintelligible.

A beat went past.

“Did you just rescue me?” Katrina asked in obvious amusement.

“Story of my life.”

“I was fine.”

“You didn’t look fine.” Reed knew he should remove his hand from her waist, but he left it there anyway.

“He was a little too friendly,” she admitted. “But I could have handled it.”

“You didn’t need to handle it. That’s why you brought me along, remember?”

She pivoted to look at him. “I thought you were only planning to fix shoe buckles and remove splinters.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her joke. “I also dance.”

“The two-step?”

“If that’s what you want.”

She cocked her head. “This is a waltz.”

Reed removed his arm from her waist, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. “Then let’s waltz.”

He steered her toward the dance floor where the ensemble was playing a classic ballad. There, he drew her into his arms, and his entire body seemed to sigh in satisfaction as she settled against him.

She was fluid and graceful, light on her feet, sensitive to his slightest nuance. He tucked her more closely to his body, his hand coming in contact with the bare skin revealed by the plunging V at the back of her dress. Her soft skin was so distracting that he struggled for something coherent to say.

“You’re a very good dancer,” he opened.

There was a smile in her voice when she answered. “Thank you. I’ve had a few lessons.”

He gave a sheepish grin in return. “I guess you have.”

“But it was nice of you to notice,” she continued with what sounded like sincerity. “And you’re not so bad yourself.”

“High-school gym class,” he admitted. It wasn’t something he’d done frequently since then, but when he did, he always enjoyed it.