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I look past him toward the garden, where a few couples are already moving closer to the band.

“There were still meetings,” I say.

“And people waiting for you to make decisions.”

His mouth curves slightly.

“No one is waiting for anything tonight.”

“That must be unsettling.”

“For them, maybe.”

I laugh.

Ross looks at me for a second longer than necessary. There is nothing hidden in the look. Nothing urgent either. Just familiarity. He offers me his arm.

“Come on,” he says.

“You‘ve spent enough evenings here working.”

I slip my hand through his arm.

“What are we doing?”

“Nothing useful.”

I look up at him.

“That might be a first.”

His smile widens, and he leads me off the terrace toward the garden just as the band shifts into something faster, and the mood changes almost immediately. A few people near the lawn start dancing, then others follow, drawn in by the rhythm and the warm evening air. Someone cheers when the tempo picks up, and a cluster of guests near the terrace begins clapping along.

I laugh before I even realize I’m doing it. Ross looks at me, amused, and keeps hold of my hand as he pulls me closer.

“You’re enjoying yourself,” he says.

“I am,” I reply, and this time I don’t feel the need to qualify it.

I finish the last of my champagne, set the empty glass on a passing tray and let the music take over. Ross moves with me easily, one hand at my waist while I turn beneath his arm, and for once I don’t care who’s watching. My heels start hurting within minutes, so I slip them off and leave them near the edge of the lawn.

Ross looks down at my bare feet and smiles.

“Problem?”

“Not at all,” I say.

The grass is cool beneath my feet, the breeze catches my hair, and something in me loosens completely. I stop thinking about whether I’m standing correctly or speaking too much or whether someone across the lawn is forming an opinion about me. I just move with the music, laugh when Ross catches my hand and spins me back toward him, and let myself enjoy how easy everything feels.

At one point, I tug him closer and he laughs. Not the restrained sound I’m used to hearing from him, but a real laugh that changes his whole face and makes him look lighter than I’ve ever seen him. For a moment, I forget the company, the estate and everything that normally seems to follow him from room to room. I stare at him long enough for him to notice.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I say, smiling.

He lifts one eyebrow.

“I like you like this,” I admit.