By the time they arrive at the Starlight Room, his mind is clearer and he's glad for it, because he doesn't think that dancing is going to help him a lot with the slight feeling of dizziness. Not that he cares much. Being with a breathtaking Daphne is a dizzying enough experience and he could get used to it for the rest of his life.
She's such a goddess in his eyes. He's been turned on like crazy since the very moment he set eyes on her at Frasier's earlier that evening, though he's done his best to hide it, first thanks to his jacket covering the evidence, and later when he sat down at the restaurant table, with that piece of furniture and the tablecloth between himself and Daphne. What would she think if she saw that he's rock-hard under his slacks?
And the alcohol has only worsened his predicament, he hasn't drunk as much for it to have the opposite effect. And as it's also lowered his inhibitions and enhanced his sense of euphoria, he's marveled that he hasn't jumped Daphne at that point. Of course, he knows that he'd never do that to her, no matter that he's horny like a horse in heat or how much alcohol he's consumed.
But he can't deny that he wants her very badly, like he's never wanted any other woman.
He then recalls that torrid summer day two years ago, in a middle of a heat wave, when Daphne went to his house at the Montana becauseshe'd fought with Sherry and had no other place to spend the night. He'll never forget the shock of finding her at his door (he fainted, how not) as well as the torture of having her all to himself, hot, sweaty and vulnerable because Sherry's shameless meddling and hurtful words had hit a nerve. She'd taken a cool bath in his en-suite bathroom (from them on he hadn't been able to use that same bathtub without picturing her statuesque and slender body naked in it, or how he imagined her glorious nakedness to be) and worn one of his silk robes directly on her porcelain skin. Every sight, gesture and word from her had been tremendously erotic. The fan in the living room lifting the fabric and revealing her heart-stopping, endless legs; she laughing naughtily and talking about her loneliness and the animal instinct everyone carries inside; her full, lush lips while she drank champagne and ate strawberries... Niles didn't remember any other moment in his life feeling so randy, so consumed with desire for a woman. In the past Maris, when she was in the mood for sexual trysts, had enjoyed wickedly working his arousal up and keeping him turned on for many hours or days in a row, without allowing him to touch her, for the sadistic pleasure of making him suffer. And only then, when he was so frenzy that he couldn't see straight, did she deign to touch him or let him touch her, but only in very specific ways, to satisfy her kinks and just throwing him a bone. Never spontaneous, never allowing him the sheer pleasure of enjoying each other's bodies freely, without restrictions, of basking in a doubtful afterglow because she always kicked him out of her bedroom afterwards, of cuddling or talking about love or making up tender names. He now realizes that that had been a warped desire from the start, unhealthy, adulterated. His notion of sexual enjoyment had been sullied and degraded by her for many years, until he broke the vicious cycle and freed himself from her poisonous influence.
In comparison, his desire for Daphne is pure (if such a word could be used in that context without sounding like a complete paradox), bottomless, all-encompassing and uncontaminated by a twisted mind, because Daphne is the most natural, honest, warm, good-natured and beautiful woman he's ever met. In short, she is the complete opposite of Maris. How many times he's regretted not having met Daphne much earlier in their lives, when Maris hadn't nailed her claws into him yet.
Only if that afternoon at the Montana full of eroticism, with him mad from wanting to lick the sweat from Daphne's heated skin and eat her alive, if he'd been braver, he was almost certain that she wouldn't had rebuffed him. And if his beffudled brain had remembered the damned prescription pad when her watch alarm set off inopportunely, reminding her of her thyroid pills, they surely would have fallen into his bed in a tangle of limbs, blissful touches, sighs, moans and blinding release. But no, fate couldn't allow him even a single respite where Daphne was concerned, because the unique chance of having her aroused and lonely and all to himself had passed because of his stupidity.
After that, it had taken him weeks to get his body and senses back into check. He'd never had to change his sheets so many times because of his solitary and guilty pleasure, and he even had gone so far as to hunt for an anonymous one-night stand in a pick-up joint he'd heard Roz mention once or twice, only to back out at the last moment, because that felt terribly wrong to him.
Now, looking at all that episode in hindsight, he's half regretful and half relieved that nothing happened between Daphne and himself. Regretful because human nature is due to lament the lost chances, much more than the failed ones; and relieved because if they had given in, that might have damaged their relationship irreversibly. With the wisdom that time and experience lends, Niles somehow senses that their moment hadn't arrived yet.
And, to his great fortune and rotten luck, she's in front of him right this moment, more beautiful and desirable than ever, he's once more crazy with want for her, but he's manacled by his own gentlemanly nature and fear of overstepping. He'd swear that he's glimpsed signs of the same interest on her part; certain touches, the hint of a heated gaze. Oh, hell, why does this always have to be so difficult for him?
By the time they cross the doors to the exclusive ballroom, with Daphne gasping in delight at the magical ambiance around them, Niles has to struggle hard to persuade himself that sex with her on their first date is off the table. God, she's so irresistible. No woman in the place can outshine her or even match her charm. He notices other men ogling at her, and Niles imagines their envy with relish. I'm Niles Crane, I'm here with this magnificent creature because she's chosen me, he dies for shouting from the rooftops. His chest swells with pride and wonder for the beauty beside him. Beautiful inside and out. He's so much in love that he might burst.
"Niles, this is marvelous. I've always dreamed of dancing in a place like this with a handsome gentleman," she says with sparkling eyes and an awed voice.
He's so delighted that she's so enthusiastic about his choice, as well as mesmerized by her unbridled joy, that he pushes his pent-up hunger for her to the back of his mind, eager to satisfy her every whim. "Shall we?" He offers his hand for her to take and they walk hand in hand, and smiling at each other in anticipation, toward the dance floor, where many other couples are enjoying themselves to the rhythm of music.
He and Daphne fall once again into their intimate synchrony where they fit so well together and soon other couples stop progressively their own dancing to watch their performance. It's exhilarating and the same glorious exultation of the Snow Ball envelops him. Her graceful and effortless aplomb, her free-flowing movements, with her whole flawless back on display and all to himself to touch and worship secretly, her shiny hair captivating him with its richness and perfume, her mind-blowing curves covered in the silky red of her dress, her shapely right leg on display... This time, at last, there are no insuperable barriers or misunderstandings between them. And then he notices it: the blatant desire in her eyes, in her movements, in her way of touching him, of seducing him. He wants so, so much to kiss her; and he sees the same craving in her gaze. Right then, he has an inspiration.
When they take a break in which she goes to the toilet, Niles heads for the DJ's booth and beckons to him. When the man comes close, Niles makes a request and the DJ nods with a knowing grin and a thumbs-up.
Brimming with excitement, Niles rushes back to the edge of the dance floor closer to the toilets' hallway, and waits for Daphne.
As soon as he spots her, he smiles widely and offers her his hand again. He leads her to the center of the floor, and right then, a tango starts playing through the speakers. Daphne raises her perfect eyebrows in surprise, catching on.
"Oh, Niles! You've asked the DJ to play our tango?," she inquires in delight, already falling quickly into rhythm with him.
"I may have," he answers, playfully vague.
"I want to kiss you senseless," she blurts out, taking his breath away more than the dancing itself.
"I want to kiss you senseless too," he echoes, with his heart leaping.
"Then why don't you?," she challenges with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
She mimics the same movement she made three years back at the height of their tango, lifting her leg vertiginously and placing it on his shoulder. He caresses her ankle and shin with a shiver and when she rests her forehead on his, he reaches for her cheek with the fingers of his other hand and kisses her passionately. She responds with equal fervor and the crowd around them bursts into applause and cheers.
It's the best moment of Niles's life, this time for real.