Ah, and there's The Woman peeking out from behind the facade. It's subtle, her taking control of their dance, but Jim allows it with a quirk of a smirk on his face. It's easy to act enchanted (no, more attracted because she seeks out the carnal not the romantic) when Irene is capable of exuding so much allure with each step on the dance floor. Were Jim a weaker man he would succumb to her the moment that leg peeked out from between the slit in her dress.

"Oh they are all dull, I've spent the day listening to them," he says, ignoring all the eyes now fixed on them in the center of the room. The shimmering material of her dress is slick against his suit though he's thankful for the low cut at the back so he can keep the semblance of his leading with a steadying had at the small of it. All for show. "You seem to be a master of it."

Swiftly Jim retakes the reigns, pushing her weight gently into his arm while he shifts his legs into position, a fluid and practiced motion that drops her into a perfect and somewhat low dip. He holds that position, staring down at her with those deep penetrating eyes, head not tilted down towards her but, rather, with a elevated chin. Power. From here, in his hands, she's a surprisingly delicate, slight thing that smells of rose water and powder. Just a woman. "I like that very much."

Just as swiftly, she's drawn back up to a stand and Jim is back to his charming self.