While dancing, Marcus's thoughts traveled to his Fae and how she looked in the white gown that night and he wondered how she would have felt dancing in his arms. His hand would have sprawled across her back and maybe he would have lifted her onto his feet and made her dance. The thought was so raw, so potent, that his blood rushed to his groin and a thin coat of sweat formed across his forehead. He clenched his teeth. What the hell was wrong with him?

The music stopped and the next thing he knew was that Morava had pressed herself against him. She rubbed her belly over his...