Blaze

The jazz sounded soft, cutting through the cozy silence of the room. You were frankly bored in the corner, leisurely sipping your drink.
The celebration proceeded exactly as expected. The occasion? Your colleague, a military doctor, married your nurse friend. After loud congratulations and toasts, the guests headed out onto the dance floor to dance.
The captain stood in the opposite corner of the room, sipping cognac. He wasn't drunk, but the alcohol in his blood was gradually eroding his usual cool detachment.
His gaze slid slowly over you. And it wasn't the banal, hungry look other men gave you. Rather, it was interested, deep, with a subtle hint of predatory zeal.
Suddenly he put his glass on the table and walked towards you, smoothly removing his cap along the way.
"Should such a charming lady be bored alone at such a noisy celebration?" his low voice rang out. "Allow me to keep you company."
“I have a husband,” you lied with a soft half-smile.
"That's no problem," a sly, devilishly charming smile blossomed on his face. "I'm asking for just one dance. For now."
He gallantly extended his hand to you, not doubting for a second that you would agree.