Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
T he woman at Diego’s side laughed lightly, tossing her hair over one shoulder, but he barely caught what she said. The strains of thumping bass reverberated through the polished floors.
The crowd shifted and settled, parting enough for the stage to come into view. And then Kash stepped onto it, along with her friends.
Diego straightened instinctively, his hand sliding off the wall, the polite words dying in his throat. For a second, he couldn’t process what he was seeing.
In a gauzy gold skirt and that gold tube top, standing tall and sure under focus lights, Kash looked like a movie star. Her golden-brown skin shimmered and her eyes danced with sheer joy.
He hadn't known she was dancing tonight. He hadn't even known she danced. Another tiny thing to know and cherish about her. A throb of something raw and electric punched through him as the music swelled.
The moment she moved, the moment she caught the rhythm and let it ripple through her, there was no one else in the world.
Not the woman beside him. Not the dozens of guests laughing and talking and snapping pictures.
Only her.
Kash danced like she was writing a story with her body, every step and turn an exhale of something too big to say aloud.
Her movements were clean, precise, but expansive, every flick of her wrist, every sway of her hips pulling the beat deeper into her flesh. She spun, dipped low, twisted up again, the gold of her top catching the lights and scattering them across the walls.
But it wasn’t the precise rhythm of her beats or the clean lines of her body as she twisted this way and that that wrecked him.
It was the joy, the fire in her eyes. The way her mouth curled into a real, reckless smile when she caught the edge of a fast turn. The way she let her body speak as the music dipped and soared around her.
And then, her gaze found him.
In the middle of the music, the lights, the crowd, Kash’s eyes locked onto his. And it wasn’t an accident or a casual glance.
It was deliberate.
This is for you, her eyes said. If you can read it, if you dare to claim it.
Diego’s heart slammed once, hard enough to steal his breath.
She wasn’t performing for the crowd.
She was dancing for him.
Dancing like a woman who had chosen her life, her love, her joy, and was daring him to meet her there.
He felt pinned in place by the force of her—her courage, her beauty, her raw, open being. He felt helpless, wrecked.
He didn’t even realize he was smiling until Muriel, her friends, and Tia erupted from the crowd and rushed the stage to join her, turning the performance into a swirling, laughing group celebration.
The spell she cast on him broke, the thundering energy of the applause spilling wide and far, but Diego stayed where he was, his whole body still thrumming.
He laughed and shook his head. Coach had been right again.
The woman he had fallen in love with was one of a kind and she would claim him when she was good and ready.
* * *
The lights still pulsed gold overhead as Kash stepped down from the dais, her long skirt swishing around her ankles, the shimmering panels catching the glow.
She was breathless, skin slick with sweat, muscles trembling from exertion, but God, she felt alive.
The music thudded softly in her ribs, a different beat now, and around her the sea of family and friends surged forward. Clapping, laughing, throwing their arms around her.
“Kash, that was amazing!”
“You killed it!”
“Look at you, setting the floor on fire!”
Hands clapped her back, squeezed her shoulders. Tia barreled into her waist, arms flung tight around Kash’s midsection, her lehenga spinning out around her like a bell.
“You danced like a Bollywood star, Kash aunty!” Tia crowed, voice muffled against her.
Kash hugged her back tightly, burying her nose for a second in Tia’s coconut-scented hair, trying to catch her breath. The hall smelled like marigolds and warm sugar, cardamom-heavy sweets and champagne and the slight tang of sweat from bodies moving everywhere.
“You whupped our old asses out there,” Mona laughed, fanning herself dramatically as she and Chaaru sidled up, cheeks flushed and grinning.
“Next time, we’re putting in a damn age category.”
“You’re only three years older than me,” Kash said, kissing her friend’s cheek.
“I need a drink,” Chaaru gasped, pretending to stagger. “No, wait. I need a back transplant.” She mock-slapped Kash’s arm. “You better not have broken it before DP returns. I have work to do on my back.”
Kash laughed with them, the sound bursting out of her, rolling straight from her gut.
She tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear, the thin gold bangles on her wrists sliding together with a soft, chiming sound. Her chest still heaved with the effort of dancing, adrenaline and euphoria humming through every muscle.
She turned slightly and then spotted him. At the far edge of the loose line of well-wishers, standing apart but waiting for her.
Kash’s heart gave a slow, deep twist inside her chest.
Up close, he looked like a dream in the navy-blue kurta. Clean lines, rolled cuffs showing the corded strength of his forearms, the dark fabric setting off the warm brown of his skin.
He wasn't smiling but something deeper, quieter, burned in his eyes.
Pride. Hunger. A kind of wrecked reverence that stole the air from her lungs.
He had a bottle of water in his hand and somehow that small, thoughtful detail made her chest ache more than anything else.
She could still hear laughter, the distant clatter of dishes, Muriel urgently calling for something. But it all blurred into a muted hum at the edges of her awareness as Diego reached her.
He didn’t grab her or pull her in. And she wished he would.
He just held out the water wordlessly, one hand still loose at his side, as if touching her would break something fragile between them.
Kash took the bottle with a murmured, “Thanks.” Their fingers brushed, electric and light.
She took a grateful sip, the coolness shocking against her overheated mouth, and smiled up at him.
“That was...” His voice was rougher than she expected, pitched low enough that only she could hear it. “Phenomenal. Sexy.”
Kash smiled, feeling the flush that hadn’t entirely faded from dancing rise again, softer this time. She tipped her head slightly, locking eyes with him. “Dance was one of my first loves,” she said, after a beat. “One I let life steal away from me. Tonight felt like the best time to claim it back. Among other things.”
“As always, you nailed it. And me,” Diego said, teeth digging into his lower lip.
She shifted her weight, laughing under her breath. “I forgot what a hard master it is, though. Plus being forty-one? My body’s not as forgiving as it used to be after lapses in exercise.”
Diego’s mouth curved into something dangerously fond. “Do you need me to bring you anything? A chair? A medic? A back brace?”
“Are you saying I’m old?” Kash said, smacking his shoulder.
“I know better than anyone how supple and energetic you can be,” he said with a devilish glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. “That routine though… it looked hard.”
“Right?” Then she giggled. “I’m deliciously sore. Although I much prefer the source of the soreness to be something else.”
She saw the flare of heat in his eyes at that, hidden but unmistakable, and it made her clench her thighs together under the skirt.
He squeezed her hand and the gesture was so steady, so fiercely tender that she thought she might melt right into the floor. “You look happy, Kash.” His thumb brushed lightly over the side of her hand, like he couldn’t help it.
She met his gaze, feeling the words rise up in her like a tide. “I am happy.” A choppy breath. “And grateful for everything I have. Would it be corny if I said thank you for being part of my healing?”
His laugh was low, roughened. “A little.” But his thumb never stopped moving over her skin.
Kash bit her lower lip, feeling mischievous, joy still fizzing through her blood like champagne bubbles. “And tacky if I said the orgasms you dole out are the best medicine?” she murmured, eyes dancing.
Diego choked on a little laugh, recovered fast. “I think the question is... how much longer you’re planning to continue your medicine, Doc.”
Her blush rose high, but she refused to duck her head. Instead, she stepped in slightly, letting the faintest brush of her chest graze his. Too quick to be noticed, too charged to ignore.
She dropped her voice to a soft, private whisper. “Go ahead and charm the whole damn crowd, Diego.” She pressed her palm flat to his rock-hard chest, feeling his heart thunder under her touch. “I know exactly what they aren’t getting.”
The way his breath caught slammed into her was as hard and dizzy as any kiss.
Pulling back, she met his dazed gaze. “Oh, also, Kaif told me about Kat’s…behavior toward you and why your reaction to her pregnancy news had been so out of character.”
When he remained silent and still, she sighed. “I’m a fool for not recognizing what a true gentleman you are.” Leaning in, she brushed a soft kiss across his smooth cheek before pulling back. Every cell in her trembled at the familiar scent of him. “Would you have ever told me?”
He shook his head, looked around, then cleared his throat. “I just wanted your good opinion, Kash. I always have.”
Her breath came in a soft hitch at the quiet intensity of his gaze. “You’re the best man I’ve ever met, Diego Ferrara. And I wish I could?—”
“Don’t want your gratitude, Doc,” he said, cutting her off.
Kash nodded. “Right.”
Her skirt swung around her legs like a golden whip as she turned. Over her shoulder, just loud enough for him to hear, she tossed back, "Save me a dance, yeah? If you think you can keep up."
And disappeared into the crowd, leaving Diego standing there, looking like he’d been wrecked all over again.