He is sitting in the shadows when she returns to her room that night.
For a moment she toys with the idea of pretending not to notice him. She decides against it. Batman would only scold her for letting her guard down and find the joke less than amusing when she tried to explain.
Diana stands in front of her mirror for a moment, having kicked off her high heels within a foot of the door. She has spent half the night dancing with foreign dignitaries-- the man from Italy, in particular, had insisted on several dances. Her wine-red dress clings to her frame, and the knotted strings that hold her dress up tickle the back of her neck.
She gazes at her own reflection, meeting amused blue eyes. Almost idly, she says, "You know, most people would think your unannounced visits to their bedrooms impolite."
Batman doesn't answer, save for the rustling of his cape as he rises to his feet.
She allows a smile to creep across her face. "Of course," she adds, "I am not most people." She tugs at the knot with quick, deft fingers. The dress falls to her ankles in a whisper of silk.
When she turns, Batman is already within arm's length, his gaze steady upon her face. His cowl still conceals the majority of his features, but Diana doesn't mind. She knows what lies beneath the mask, can picture his handsome features without any effort at all.
She reaches out to trace his jawline, stills when his expression tightens. She arches an eyebrow, and a look that is almost sheepish flits across his face.
"Old habits," he says, as though that explains everything.
And in the case of Batman, Diana thinks, it does.
"Very well," she says, and lets her amusement warm her voice. "Besides, I rather think we can find a few things to do without taking off your mask."
Batman's breath catches in his throat. The widening of his eyes is so slight that Diana almost misses it despite her sharp-eyed interest. Then a small smile curves his mouth.
"You always have such interesting ideas, Diana," he says. He sounds more like the man she danced with those many months ago, and very much like the Bruce Wayne who had smiled at her and told her not to be sorry for the kiss only a few weeks previous. "Why don't we try a few of them out?"
Diana smiles, feels her stomach tighten in anticipation as his gaze drops briefly to her mouth and then still lower. "I have one in particular I think you'll enjoy," she says.
"Oh?" Batman's smiling openly now. "Care to show me?"
"It will be my pleasure," Diana says, joy filling her chest. She curls a hand around his neck, tugs him close so that their bodies press together. Heat radiates off him, sparks an answering warmth between her legs.
She kisses him, fills the kiss with all the delight and eagerness surging through her body. She laughs as his gloved hands press against her hips to tug her even closer.
"Someday," she murmurs, nipping at his lower lip, "I will collect on that dance you owe me."
His eyes darken at that, pupils dilating. "Diana," he says, her name like a promise. He bows his head to kiss the curve of her throat. "Have you ever heard of a dance called the tango?"