Azrael's eyes sparkled with mischief. "You danced way too well for someone who claims 'She doesn't give a fuck about anyone.'" He shot her a sideways glance. "You nearly made half the guys lose their minds…"
Athena's face flushed instantly. She swallowed, her fingers twisting lightly in her skirt.
"Well…" she muttered, looking away, "I just… danced. It wasn't that deep."
Azrael let out a soft, low laugh, the kind that vibrated through the car.
"Not that deep?" he repeated, leaning his elbow on the window as he shot her a teasing glance.
"Athena, you moved like you'd been born on that dance floor."
Her face heated instantly. "I…I wasn't even trying," she stammered.
"Oh, I know." His smile widened impossibly charming, unfairly pretty. "That's what made it dangerous."
"Dangerous?" she echoed, flustered.
Azrael nodded slowly, eyes drifting back to the road but still wearing that maddening smile.
