Losing Balance
by Lionel

chapter 49

By the time they reached the door to the ballroom, Alexis was beginning to second-guess her ambitious choice in shoes. As a return to high heels, it was hardly triumphal. Her ankle was largely healed, but not back to its former strength, and were it not for Lorenzo's steady arm to lean on, she was quite certain she would have lost her balance.

Apart from the brief exchange in the elevator, she hadn't been able to make even a stab at conversation on their walk over. Her silence was due only in small part to her need to concentrate on each step as she grew accustomed to her shoes, and still less to the giddy nerves that had hold of her. Mostly she was quiet because every sense was occupied in absorbing the experience.

Shoes aside, there was a real physical pleasure to walking with a man in formalwear. The dominant input to her overloaded senses, and the one that evoked such a visceral reaction in her, retreading the steps of formal events past, was the distinctive sensation of holding a man's arm. No matter how high-end a man's tux - and Lorenzo's was top-of-the-line Zegna as best she could tell - the wool sleeve always felt a little rough against the tender skin on the inside of a woman's bare arm. The wool was always warm, too, seemingly impervious to the temperature of the air, conducting perfectly the heat of the body inside. And the body was invariably strong and solid under a woman's hand, thanks to a flexed arm and the natural muscle mass that is testosterone's gift. Even the least physically impressive man seemed masculine and powerful when he gave a woman his tuxedoed arm, rough and warm and hard. Resting her hand on Lorenzo's strong arm, her fingers making it just a small fraction of the way around, made her feel delicate and feminine and protected in a way she very seldom curried.

There were other sensations, too: the mingling scents of her perfume and his aftershave; the sounds of her heels clicking and his dress shoes roughing over the ground; the more distant sounds of traffic and car doors and even crickets, and then orchestral music as they approached the ballroom; and of course the very pleasing visual of the man she walked with. His attire was quite traditional, which surprised her a bit: a three-button, single-breasted jacket with notched lapels, a white tuxedo shirt, black tie. The tux fit him perfectly through the shoulders and waist (and she assumed the pants were similarly flattering, though she hadn't yet had a chance to ogle him properly), which made her wonder whether he'd found an exceptionally swift tailor or whether he'd had the foresight, insight or ambition to bring his tux with him to D.C.

Alexis hadn't anticipated any of this when she'd woken up that morning, and she still didn't know how she wanted the day to end, but she enjoyed the walk from the St. Regis to the Hay-Adams and upstairs to the ballroom in a way she hadn't enjoyed anything in a very long time. After days of denial, after weeks of keeping her feelings under tight rein, it was a relief to let herself enjoy Lorenzo, like releasing a long-held breath. She floated on a delicious mix of anticipation, uncertainty and arousal. She had never harbored fairy tale dreams, but it was easy to imagine that this was the way it felt when they came true.

They paused for a moment just outside the doors to the ballroom, exchanging a quick look of mutual reassurance, and then they walked in. The ballroom was bright, thanks to a high ceiling, countless chandeliers and a wall of windows to the west, much brighter than the hallway, and everyone inside kept glancing toward the doors as they chatted. Alexis felt as though she had stepped into a spotlight, and she was suddenly conscious of the image they presented: Alexis Davis - yes, that Alexis Davis -- on the arm of her gangster boyfriend. Her hand fell from Lorenzo's arm.

It wasn't that she was ashamed to be with him. Though she still had serious reservations about his business activities, she didn't care about the image. She didn't care that he stood out from all the well-bred WASPs in the room, that his hair was still too long, that he wore heavy gold jewelry on his wrists and fingers. She had almost married Eddie Maine, for god's sake, a man with a soul patch. And, anyway, she was long past caring what casual acquaintances thought of the men in her life.

Her self-consciousness stemmed from something else entirely: embarrassment at her own presumption in thinking herself woman enough for him. Standing there in the spotlight, she had a momentary glimpse of how other women must see him - virile, dangerous, sexy as hell - and she felt foolish clinging to his arm as if he belonged to her. Surely a man like that couldn't belong to someone as ordinary and uptight as her.

But then he looked down at her in silent reproach for withdrawing her arm, and his eyes told her otherwise. She held his eyes for a moment, drawing confidence from the way he looked at her, not just appreciative but intimate, so much more familiar than the gaze of a first date. Rejecting the absence of contact, Lorenzo slipped his hand around her waist and settled it lightly above her hip.

John Schaeffer quickly spotted them by the door and came over to say hello. He shook Lorenzo's hand and stared at Alexis a second too long, almost rudely, before pulling himself out of it. "Lorenzo. Alexis. Wow. You look gorgeous."

"Thanks." She gave a tight smile and fiddled nervously with the clasp of the small purse in her hands. Lorenzo was stroking her hip ever so slightly, and she couldn't quite think. "Is Eliza around here somewhere? It must be ten years since I last saw her."

John nodded his head back over his shoulder. "She ran off that way when we arrived, and I haven't seen her since. I think she found her old St. Albans/NCS crowd. But she'll turn up sooner or later. She always does." He gestured toward the front of the room. "Our table is up there. And in that crowd next to it is our erstwhile deputy AG."

Alexis followed the line of John's extended arm and spotted Eric's face in the crowd, older but deeply familiar. Lorenzo leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I don't suppose he's the short, bald one?"

Alexis laughed lightly. "Afraid not. He's the tall one with light brown hair, looks sort of like Eric Stoltz? The handsome man with athletic thighs, as a friend of mine used to say. With all the reporters around him."

"Ah. Of course."

The man in question scanned the room as he spoke to the reporters, and when he spotted John Schaeffer he raised a hand and smiled in greeting. His stopped mid-sentence and the smile dropped from his face when he saw the woman in red standing next to John. "My god," he muttered to himself. He quickly excused himself from the reporters and approached.

"Alexis." His manners failed him in his shock, and he didn't extend a hand in greeting or pay any attention to her companions.

"Eric."

"Wow. It's really … something. You look - you look amazing."

"Thanks. You - you haven't changed a bit. You look wonderful."

"John didn't say you were coming. I mean, he said someone was coming, but he didn't say it was you."

"I'm sorry to surprise you like this."

"No, no, it's okay. It's a good kind of surprise. It just threw me for a second. It's been a really long time." Eric glanced at John, and then Alexis again, still overwhelmed by his initial reaction, and then he finally noticed the tall, dark man standing next to Alexis and watching him with menacing eyes. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners?" He extended his hand to Lorenzo. "I'm Eric Holcomb."

Lorenzo drew himself up to his full height and shook Eric's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Lorenzo Alcazar."

Eric's face registered his familiarity with the name, and his quick glance at John indicated that he knew of the association between John and Lorenzo. He looked carefully from Alexis to Lorenzo and back trying to identify the vibe he was getting.

John stepped in. "Lorenzo and Alexis have been in meetings with me all day, and I thought they might appreciate getting out tonight. For obvious reasons, no one needs to know that Lorenzo works with me. He's here as Alexis's date. That's it."

Eric nodded. "Of course. I'm glad you were both able to join us. Why don't we take our seats?"

The four of them joined the crowd filtering to the tables. When they reached the head table, Eric held out a chair for Alexis and she took a seat, with Eric on her left and Lorenzo on her right. The rest of the table was filled out with John and his wife - Eliza did indeed turn up -- and various other faces Alexis vaguely remembered from law school. After a round of greetings and introductions, Eric poured the wine, and all eyes turned curiously to Alexis and Eric as if waiting for a show to begin.

"So, should we warn the staff to put away the breakables?" someone asked, and everyone laughed nervously.

"No, I don't think that will be necessary," Alexis said with a bashful smile. "I like to think I'm a little more even-tempered than I was twenty years ago. I'm sure Eric is as well."

"Eric was always even-tempered, Alexis," John teased. "Until you came in the room."

Alexis smiled uncomfortably and saw Lorenzo looking even more uncomfortable next to her. She put a hand on his sleeve. "Lorenzo, would you please tell them that I am the soul of calm and reasonability now."

Lorenzo smirked. "Yes, of course. Alexis almost never yells, and she rarely, if ever, throws anything. Except when she's mad."

Alexis laughed and whacked Lorenzo gently on the arm. "Thanks for that ringing endorsement."

"I'll bet motherhood has mellowed you, if nothing else," Eric said gently. "How old is your little girl now?"

"Uh, she's one and a half." Alexis tried to hide her surprise. Under the table, her hands twisted nervously around the napkin in her lap.

"I don't suppose you brought any pictures?"

"No, not with me. I have a stack of them in my hotel room though." She thought she heard Lorenzo growl next to her. "Do you have children, Eric?"

"I do. An eighteen-year old boy and fifteen-year old girl."

"Wow. Teenagers. That's hard to believe. Though I did hear you got married just after you moved down here, right?"

"Yes, about six months after graduation."

"Your wife couldn't make it tonight?"

"No, we were divorced a few years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, broken when someone asked, "How about you, Alexis? Ever married?"

"Uh, once, briefly. And almost married another time." Her hands were still on her lap, and she was grateful not to be called to account for the engagement ring she wore.

"The girl who called marriage a patriarchal conspiracy to subjugate women?"

Alexis smiled. "That would explain the almost. And the briefly, in a roundabout sort of way."

Alexis felt rather like a zoo animal with so many curious eyes watching her, and she was grateful when the conversation trailed off into an accounting of spouses and children and law firms and cases. Eric excused himself after the first course to make a few remarks to the gathered crowd, and she relaxed a little bit more.

She worried that Lorenzo was having a miserable time surrounded by lawyers, and she went out of her way to make him comfortable, incorporating him into her conversation, touching his sleeve, smiling at him warmly. All of her flirtation wasn't really necessary; though hardly talkative, Lorenzo seemed to do just fine on his own. He deflected expertly when asked what he did for a living, speaking generally of "international business interests" or "import-export", sometimes throwing in a roguish grin that cut off further inquiry. He fell into a long conversation about Oxford with one of the men - Will? Whit? something like that - who had been there on a Rhodes scholarship.

Throughout dinner Alexis observed with some amusement the way the other women at the table watched Lorenzo: curious, appreciative, intimidated. He was the sort of man a woman couldn't keep her eyes off of, but when he returned their gaze they averted their eyes as if afraid of feeling the force of his attention. Only Eliza Schaeffer on his other side engaged him in conversation.

Under the table Alexis felt the force of his attention, for he was only too eager to respond to her flirtation in his own way. When they weren't eating, he held her hand in his lap, stroking his thumb against her palm. She felt the heat of his hard thigh through the wool of his pants, and once or twice her hand settled fully across his thigh, her fingertips grazing his inseam. When she was drawn into a heated discussion about a case before the Supreme Court, gesturing with both hands and not touching him for too long, Lorenzo reclaimed her attention with a well-aimed foray to her upper leg, slipping his hand in the slit that ran up the side of her dress. Words failing her, she quickly conceded defeat and fell silent, fully absorbed by the activity of his hand on her thigh, stroking her lightly up and down. It was more up than down, really, and his practiced nonchalance flickered an instant when he came upon bare skin. She held her breath as his fingers explored the upper edge of her thigh-high stocking, toying with the garter strap and hook that held it in place. She was considering a search for the nearest dark closet when Lorenzo's cell phone rang, and he excused himself with a dissolving squeeze of her knee.

When he was gone, Alexis took a sip of water and tried to compose herself, to shake off the desperate desire that had flared and find again the calm confidence that had carried her this far. Taking a deep breath, she idly rearranged the dessert fork and spoon that remained on the table. She almost jumped out of her seat when Eric placed his palm over her left hand.

"Is that an engagement ring?" he asked quietly.

She clenched her fingers slightly and frowned. "Um, sort of."

"Not Mr. Alcazar?"

"No, no. My ex-husband, actually."

"Jasper Jacks?"

"Yes. But it's complicated. My life is in flux right now."

"Come dance with me and tell me about it." He rose from his chair and offered his hand.

Alexis shook her head and gestured toward Lorenzo, who was standing against the wall of windows with his cell phone to his ear. "I really shouldn't."

Eric cocked an eyebrow. "So it's not just a cover. It's a real date?"

Alexis nodded, grateful to know they had at least been that discreet with their under table flirtation. "It's rather complicated, but yes. It's real."

"Then I'll be right back."

Alexis watched as Eric approached Lorenzo. They spoke briefly, and whatever Eric had to say made Lorenzo clench his jaw, but when they were done Lorenzo looked over and nodded at her. Eric returned to the table with a triumphant smile and offered her his hand.

Alexis accepted his hand and stood, but she eyed him suspiciously. "What did you say to Lorenzo?"

Eric grinned boyishly. "I claimed prior right by occupancy. Pierson v. Post."

"Post lost. Remember? And that's offensive."

"But you're smiling."

"It's a pained smile, Eric. I see your sense of humor hasn't evolved much. You're the only person I know who thinks eighteenth century common law makes good fodder for jokes."

"Nineteenth century. Pierson v. Post was 1805."

"Of course. I stand corrected. Were you always this insufferable?"

"So you said. But I think you had something to do with it. You were always such fun to provoke. Still are."

Alexis blushed self-consciously and rolled her eyes, but she let Eric lead her to the dance floor and slipped easily into his arms. Though they hadn't danced all that much in law school, the fit of his body to hers was familiar. He held her at a respectful distance, but he couldn't quite keep his eyes from roving up and down.

"So … " she began, drawing his eyes up to meet hers.

"Sorry," he said, smiling bashfully at being caught. "You really look great."

She just rolled her eyes at him again. "I understand that I owe you thanks for helping Jax's brother."

"John told you?"

"Yes. Today. Thank you."

Eric shrugged slightly. "I was glad to do it. I'm sorry it didn't work out in the end."

"I am, too. But we're still hoping someday we'll be able to make things right and bring him home."

"Well, just let me know if there's anything I can do. My hands are pretty tied now, but you never know when a little push from the right person will make the difference."

"Thanks, Eric. I really appreciate that."

"I do what I can."

She nodded thoughtfully. "You always did."

"What does that mean?"

She shrugged, the subtle thought that had prompted the comment having slipped away. "I read about you in the papers all the time."

"And do you roll your eyes at me?"

"Sometimes. But all in all I've been impressed with what you've done. For a republican and all. It seems like you're trying hard to counterbalance the overreaching of your boss."

"Well, you know, there's this voice I hear in my right ear. It's this girl I used to know, who argued with me about everything. She went on and on about civil liberties and the foundations of justice and slippery slopes. I liked to give her a hard time, because she was really sexy when she was angry, but some of it sank in."

Alexis's dimples flashed for a moment. "Wow. Then I'm proud as well as impressed. It's good to know I'm still serving justice in some capacity, however indirectly."

"You serve justice every day, Alexis," Eric insisted. "Maybe not when you were drafting coffee contracts, but every time you step in a courtroom. Criminal defense is the ground war."

"In theory, maybe, but in practice it has very little to do with those lofty principles I used to spout." She considered him speculatively for a moment as they made a small circle of the dance floor. "You seem quite well informed about my life, Eric. Why is that?"

"I read about you in the papers, too."

"And you're not always so proud of me."

"Well, I never pegged you for a [i]consigliere[/i] in the making."

"I was never an idealist, Eric."

"No, you were always very pragmatic underneath all those principles. But you had more class in your little finger than the rest of us put together. How did you end up representing a thug like Sonny Corinthos?"

Alexis gave a small, bittersweet smile. "Oh, life can be funny sometimes. One thing leads to another."

Eric nodded slightly as if he understood that sort of thing. "I was relieved when you stopped working for Corinthos. I was always afraid your name was going to show up on my desk and put me in a very difficult position."

"I didn't do anything illegal. I was very careful about the work I did."

"I know." He spun her around lightly. "And then there was the mess with your friend's brother. I might have been able to help with that if you had come to me first. I had to laugh when I heard you pled insanity. I mean, I know there was nothing remotely funny about it, but I could hear the argument we had about NGRI and moral culpability."

"Yeah, that was a knock-down, drag-out fight, wasn't it?""

"But it ended well." Eric smiled teasingly, and after a beat Alexis smiled back. "So is your friend going to have me killed if I hold you a little closer for just a minute?"

"He might."

He pulled her closer anyway. "So you're his lawyer? That's a little odd."

"Yes. It is odd, isn't it? Just on a couple of matters."

"And you're with him?"

"It's complicated." The music was winding down, and Alexis drew away.

"That's sort of an all-purpose excuse for you, isn't it?"

Alexis gritted her teeth and smiled. "It's really good to see you again, Eric. Thanks for the dance." She started to head back to the table, but Eric held on tight to her hand and didn't move.

"Please stay," he asked. "Another dance."

Alexis looked back toward the table. Lorenzo was still by the window on the phone. "I - I can't."

"Don't just walk away, Alexis." His voice was suddenly quiet and pleading, all pretense of lighthearted reminiscence gone. "Not again." The deep-lying guilt that was her most durable memento of law school made her turn back to him, but she couldn't meet his eyes.

"Why?" she asked in a low, strained voice.

"Because I still have your diploma. Because I always think of you this time of year. Well, I think of you other times, too, but more in the spring. Graduation time."

"Eric - " She closed her eyes and turned away, but he still held her hand.

"My son is graduating from high school next week. He's going to Harvard in the fall."

"That's - that's great. You must be very proud of him."

Eric nodded. "Yeah. I remember our commencement day, and waiting for you, Alexis."

She took a heavy breath and gave in, turning back to face him. Satisfied that she would stay, Eric let go of her hand, and she wrapped both arms tight around her waist, waiting for his words of recrimination. His voice was soft and full of remembered pain when he spoke.

"I don't think I heard a word of any of the speeches at commencement. I was just looking through the crowd, first in the Yard, then over at the law school, trying to spot you, waiting for you to come gloat about beating me out for first in the class. They called your name to give you your diploma, and one prize after another, but you weren't there. So Dean Braddock gave it all to me to give to you. But when I got back to my apartment all of your stuff was gone. You were gone. You didn't even say goodbye, Alexis."

She swallowed hard over the lump that had developed in her throat. "I know. I'm sorry. I just . . I had to leave and I didn't know how to say goodbye to you." She shrugged, knowing that her words were pathetically inadequate.

"I still think about it, Alexis. I think about what I should have done differently. What I could have done to keep you from running away. I mean, I know what my big mistakes were, but I've never been sure whether I ever stood a chance to begin with. What do you think? Would things have been different if I hadn't asked you to turn down the job in New York and come to D.C. with me? Or if I hadn't told you I loved you?"

"Eric . . . I don't know. No, I don't think so. Maybe for a little while, maybe we could have had a little more time. But sooner or later you would have asked for something more from me, and I wouldn't have been able to give it."

"Why not?"

"We were just really different."

Eric ran his hand roughly through his hair. "Are you kidding me? Don't tell me that we had nothing in common, Alexis. Were you ever bored? Did we ever run out of things to talk about?"

"No, of course not. We had fun together. It was exhausting, but fun. But I'm not talking about having the same intellectual interests and obsessive work habits. You and I, we never stopped talking, but there were a lot of things I couldn't say to you."

"Why?"

She shrugged vaguely. "Because you had never been afraid of anything in your entire life. Because for all of our arguments about crime and punishment, evil was just an abstraction to you. You couldn't really conceive of a world in which someone raises his hand to a five-year-old child."

"I'm not so innocent anymore, Alexis. I've seen evil. And I've been afraid. Your friend. He knows a little something about evil, doesn't he? That's dangerous company to keep."

"I know. Believe me, I know. And I don't keep it lightly. But I'm tired of being afraid, Eric. I'm tired of fighting what I want."

"And Lorenzo Alcazar is what you want?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"He could hurt you terribly, Alexis."

"Yeah. And I could hurt him terribly, right? Twenty years ago I thought growing up meant that you learned to stop doing things that hurt, that you learned to stay away from the people who could hurt you. I'm not so sure anymore. That seems more like cowardice to me now. I'm coming to the conclusion that the things that can hurt are the things that make you feel most alive."

Eric listened, first in disbelief, then with a wistful smile. "Okay," he said after a moment, nodding in surrender. He pulled her back to resume their abandoned dance. "I envy you your courage."

"You were always the brave one, Eric. You took chances I never could."

He shook his head. "No. I wasn't brave enough to go after you."

"You moved on and made a nice life for yourself. You've been happy, right?"

"I've been happy enough. Being happy isn't that hard for someone like me."

"You know I would have made you miserable. I always did, but you were too kind to call me on it." She smiled gently until he smiled back.

"You know what my wife told me when she left me? Well, first she said I worked too much. And then when we really got into truths, she said she was tired of being measured against this imaginary woman I had in my head. The problem was that you weren't imaginary. I knew you were out there. Things really started to get bad right around the time when John asked me to help out on your brother-in-law's case. I was actually in his office once when you were on a conference call, and just hearing your voice for the first time … I almost went up to New York to see you, but then I heard you got married. And then - god, you're going to hate this - there was the day I walked into my son's room and saw your picture on his computer. That didn't help."

"Oh, god."

"Yeah, that's what I said. And that's what he said when I told him we used to date. He said that was really creepy and got rid of your picture, but I think he was impressed with the old guy."

When her laugh subsided, Alexis's face grew serious again. "I'm sure it's just the shock of seeing me unexpectedly after twenty years, but somehow you've just managed to lay responsibility for the break-up of your marriage at my feet. I can't tell you how much I don't need that extra guilt in my life right now."

"I'm sorry, Alexis. Obviously it wasn't your fault. It wasn't just about you. Joan and I were married for sixteen years. We had a whole life that had nothing to do with you, and a lot of it was really good. I haven't been pining away for you for twenty years. But you know how it is when you realize something is missing. If you didn't know more was possible, you would be just fine, but once it occurs to you, you can't help but miss it and think about it. And I knew that from the beginning."

Alexis gave a short, rueful laugh. "Yeah, I know how it is." She rested her forehead on Eric's shoulder for a moment. "So tell me something: given everything you know now, all the good and bad, would you still get married if you had the choice again?"

"Oh, I don't know. I guess it depends when you ask me. If you ask me tomorrow when I'm playing tennis with my kids, the answer is probably yes. But right now, holding you in my arms… No, I would never have gone to D.C.; I would never have gotten married. I would have gone after you. I would have tracked you down in Greece or New York or wherever you disappeared to and I would have tried my damnedest not to let you leave. And maybe I would have been miserable all these years."

As the music came to an end, Alexis leaned up and kissed Eric on the cheek. "Thank you for that. I should get back to my friend."

"Is there any way I can convince you to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Alexis shook her head. "I think I have plans."

Eric nodded. "He's a lucky man. I think I'm going to head home in just a bit then. But it's been wonderful to see you. Really. Don't be a stranger."

"I won't. If you ever do make it to Port Charles, let me know. I'd love to introduce you to my daughter."

"Definitely. Thanks for the dance."

She smiled softly. "You're welcome. And thank you for everything. I'm sorry." He held lightly to her hand as she walked away, letting go only when her fingertips escaped his.

Alexis found Lorenzo at the bar, standing with a glass of scotch in his hand and a sullen look on his face. She approached him from behind and wrapped her arm loosely around him. "What are you doing standing at the bar getting drunk?"

Lorenzo's jaw clenched and he took a swallow of his scotch. He didn't turn his head. "I've lost my date. She's out on the dance floor rekindling the sparks with an old love."

Alexis leaned in front of him to force him to look at her. "Your date was tying up some loose ends with an old friend and hoping you would come over and cut in."

"I don't think the next attorney general would have liked that very much. Couldn't do me any good to get on his bad side."

Alexis put her hand on Lorenzo's arm and turned him toward her. "Lorenzo. Eric and I are ancient history. It was never serious."

Lorenzo scowled and took another swallow of scotch. "Then why does he look like a man who's been missing you for twenty years?"

"If he has, it was a wasted effort. I was never in love with him, and he knew that." She took the glass from Lorenzo's hand and put it on the bar, then she grabbed him by both hands. "Come on, dance with me."

Lorenzo let Alexis lead him out onto the dance floor, and he took her into his arms in a formal posture. After a few steps, Lorenzo stopped and put his arms down. "I can't do this."

"Do what? Dance with me?"

Lorenzo ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Yeah. No. Metaphorically speaking. This dance we do where we go around and around in circles, moving in and out, closer and closer, until the flame gets too hot and you run away. I can't hold you in my arms and let myself feel the things I feel when I touch you, knowing that you're just going to push me away. I'm sorry."

He turned to walk away, but she grabbed his hand. "Lorenzo, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to run away."

He stopped and turned toward her. His head was tilted in question, and piercing blue-gray eyes gazed out from under a furrowed brow. "What do you mean?"

Alexis pulled him closer to her and rested her hands flat on his lapels. She stood perfectly straight, and her voice was soft but firm. "I mean that I want to spend the night with you. I want to dance with you under the stars and then I want you to take me up - down? it must be down -- to your hotel room, throw me on the bed and make mad passionate love to me until the sun comes up. If that would be okay with you."

Lorenzo squinted and tipped his head as if he didn't quite believe what he had heard. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

She nodded. "I have uncertainties today, and tomorrow I'll have doubts, but the one thing I'm sure of is that I want this. I just do."

A small smile broke out on his face, matching her own. He put one hand on her waist, pulling her even closer until their bodies met from chest to knee, and then his other hand brought her head to his shoulder. He kissed her hair softly, swaying from side to side, murmuring sweet words she couldn't understand.

When the music changed he let her go, and his hand found hers as they assumed a more conventional dancing position and began to move. If he were a cautious man, Lorenzo would have swept her off to his hotel room after their first dance, before she changed her mind or the phone rang or the world came to an end, but she had said she wanted to dance, and he was determined she would have everything she wanted tonight. Caution is its own mundane reward, but a courageous and passionate heart is sometimes rewarded tenfold with mystical delights, transcendent treasures, heaven on earth. Lorenzo's risk was so rewarded, as time slowed to a crawl and freed them from their desperate need for one another. Suddenly, there was no rush. There would be time for everything.

chapter 50