"You know, for many, the waltz is considered quite the daring dance," he reminds Anne, given that their proximity is rather a risky thing, but they both have been much closer than this, of course. Their relationship has never been about propriety. He curls his fingers in against her body, holding her close.

His wife.

He closes his eyes and drifts into the miasma of her bearing and being, exhaling as he sinks in towards her.