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A Story : A Short Story

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“Yes. Perhaps that would be the best idea,” Monsieur Roden agreed, looking from one of them to the other. Thalia could feel her face heat with embarrassment. “I can get a pair as well,” she offered. “I believe it will be fine if just Mr. Istoriakis gets his,” the dancing instructor said, giving Yiannis a nod. ~~~ Yiannis took that as leave to go and made good his escape. He took the stairs two at a time, suddenly feeling the need to expend some energy, which was ridiculous really since he’d just been dancing. But Thalia… Her eyes—how they’d widened when their hands had touch. And her body—the heat coming from it in the moment. Her soft, gentle curves had been so close he could have reached out and touched her. He almost had, much to his embarrassment. He’d been so tempted. In that split second, it had taken all of his will power not to wrap his arm around her slender waist and pull her against him. He’d wanted nothing more than to feel her, kiss her, smell her tantalizing scent, which had overwhelmed him almost as much as the feel of her bare hand. What was it? He searched his mind, remembering the sweetness. Lavender and honey! Yes, he was sure of it. He closed his eyes for a moment remembering the soft, gentle fragrance. It reminded him of home and yet was so distinctly English, distinctly Thalia. He’d smelled it before but not quite so intimately. This time it had filled his senses and threatened to turn his mind to mush. He shook his head, dispelling the fragrance from

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