Dancing at Midnight

Kissing in starlight, basking in sunlight, dancing at midnight

Her warm, bright smile makes me want to try

To give her the world

“Your heart is free now.”

“No,” he whispered. “It’s yours.”

“My life was...” He swallowed. “I don’t know how to say it.”

Belle reached out and took his hand. “Then show me.”

He flattened her palm against his stomach and slid it up to his heart. “It beats for you,” he whispered. “Only you.”

Love does strange things to women

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes.

Abruptly, John turned and caught Belle watching him. His eyes locked with hers, and for a moment he left his expression unshuttered, allowing her to look into his very soul. Then he quirked a smile, breaking the spell, and turned away.

She sensed something special in him, something fine and shining and very, very good. And perhaps all he needed was someone to remind him of that.

John Blackwood had secrets. Belle was sure of it. She’d wager that his life story put Shakespeare to shame. All she had to do was a little investigating. This excursion to the country might prove more exciting than she’d anticipated.

He smiled, but it was a small one, and Belle got the impression that he was not a man who smiled often.