Chapter 14
14
Shanna
Two days later
L atin music throbs—kind of like my head. The insistent beat of the dramatic notes echoes off the hardwood floors and bounces off the mirrored walls of the studio. My feet ache. I’m hot and sweaty after three hours. And really annoyed. Kristoff and I aren't having a productive practice.
And as much as I hate to admit it, Alejandro invades my thoughts every three seconds. How can I miss him so much after a mere two days? Why can’t I stop thinking about the way his hands felt on me, of his unique scent like midnight and man all wrapped in pure sex? Why can’t I stop remembering the way he looked at me—as ifI meant something to him—before I thrust on my clothes and darted out of Sneak Peek? It would be far more practical if I could focus on the fact that the security cameras didn’t pick up on anything suspicious that night, so I’m no closer to finding—and stopping—the blackmailer.
“I have never had to say this to you,” Kristoff breaks into my thoughts, “but if we are to win, you must concentrate. You know this, yes? The cha-cha-cha, it is strong and passionate, not lethargic and distracted.”
Damn Kristoff for stepping on my last nerve.
I thrust my hands on my hips. “If I’m distracted, it’s because I’m still trying to figure out how we’re going to keep that porn-worthy footage of yours out of the judges’ hands. And guess what? The fact that’s even a problem is not my fault.”
“I made a mistake. I have apologized. Either forgive me or find a new partner. Or have you already been having auditions behind my back?”
In the past, that comment alone would have pushed me over the edge. I would have told Kristoff to spend his time at Sneak Peek and stop wasting mine. Then I would have begun auditioning partners the very same day.
So why am I not walking away now?
Kristoff is, in a word, amazing. A powerful dancer, determined, dedicated. He brings a glamour to our dancing that was lacking when Jonathan was my partner. The ladies love him. He oozes charm even when making his matador face during the paso doble. He's spirited, and normally, he makes practice fun. And yes, I want a partner with whom I can finish my career.
That isn’t why I don’t want to lose Kristoff, though. During our time together, he’s become…almost a friend. I try very hard not to bring my emotions into my dance partnerships, and I know he didn’t intend to make a mess of things. But I hate the thought of turning my back on him and proving his suspicions about me right.
In the past, my icy reputation in the ballroom never ruffled my feathers. Now, for some reason…it bothers me. A lot.
“Shut up and dance,” I snap.
“We can still win.”
We will, if we don’t have that footage hanging over our heads. But why bring it up again? It won’t change our situation. Still, I usually would add a final dig just to remind him that he screwed up. Today, I don’t have petty in me, not when there’s a bit of kicked puppy in his expression.
Damn it, did the handful of orgasms Alejandro gave me soften me that much? I stiffen my spine. I can’t afford to think with my heart if I want to win. And winning is all I have, even if it suddenly sounds…empty.
No, I’m just tired or something. I’ve worked too hard to lose focus now. If I can’t figure out who’s behind this blackmail before the competition, I’ll likely have to cut Kristoff loose at the end of the season.
“We can win if we keep that video out of circulation. I’m working on that.”
“Is that why you went to Sneak Peek and performed a public scene with Alejandro Diaz?”
I nearly choke. It didn’t occur to me that Kristoff would find out. I should have known since he’s a member. I didn’t see him there, but clearly someone told him.
He laughs. “I heard it was very hot and that you had a rapt audience.”
“I did what needed to be done to lure out our blackmailer.”
Or did I merely do what I had to in order to achieve a stunning pair of orgasms? I barely resisted Alejandro’s offer of a third, which he’d promised to give me in his bed, just the two of us on soft satin sheets.
“And you did it very well, I hear.”
I roll my eyes and turn away so he can't see my cheeks turning pink.
But I’m not fast enough.
“You’re blushing. You?” Astonishment laces Kristoff’s voice. “I have never seen you do such a thing.”
It’s rare, and all because Alejandro blew me away, and I haven’t recovered yet. I’ve never craved sex or ached for any man. Until him. Last night, before I lost myself in self-pleasure while thinking of Alejandro, I wondered exactly what he did to me and why I’m so fascinated by him.
How did he get under my skin so quickly?
Pretending to walk across the studio nonchalantly, I seek my bottle of water and drink deep, then turn back to Kristoff. “Apparently, our plan wasn’t good enough. We didn’t catch anyone in the act of filming us, as we hoped. No one has sent me another blackmail video or threatened me as a result of the whole thing.” I shrug. “I guess it was a waste of time.”
But it doesn’t feel like a waste, given what he did next…
After the scene ended, Alejandro pressed a button to drop a partition between us and the audience. I heard the watchers filing out, which filled me with a sense of both loss and relief. Then he turned me to face him and took me into his arms. For a simple hug. He didn't say a word, asked for nothing else for long moments. He just held me and stroked my hair. I haven't had that in a long time. Years. My father and brothers certainly never gave me much affection; it’s just not who they are. And I needed it more than I realized.
Folded against Alejandro’s chest, I clenched my eyes shut tightly, resisting an urge to crawl deeper into his embrace and cry for all the fear—and conversely, the bliss—that soaked my body. In the aftermath of our sex, my emotions tumbled, jumbled, and whirled all around. Up was down, backward was forward; nothing made sense except holding onto him.
Somehow, I managed to restrain my tears, tear myself from his arms, and reach for my clothes.
Within minutes, Del emerged into the room with the unhappy news that security already scoured the footage of the event and found no one in the audience with a camera of any kind.
After Del left, I lost it. Tears fell hard and fast. But silently. I hoped Alejandro never noticed.
Wishful thinking.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered as he swooped me up into his arms.
I had been too weak to fight Alejandro, especially when he felt so strong while he settled me against his solid body and in the shelter of his arms. As he kissed his way down my face, he was so tender, as if he knew exactly what I needed. He ripped right through my fragile barriers. I opened up to his whispered words and tender mouth…
Then he took my hand and led me out of the main house, down a pathway hidden by tropical plants and climbing ivy, softly lit by the full moon before pushing his way toward a luxurious cottage.
His private quarters.
Being alone with him when I was so emotionally raw…not smart. Downright scary, in fact. Even the idea made my heart skip and my palms go clammy.
Clutching my keys, I mumbled something about a fictitious early-morning practice and fled.
So, it’s done. Alejandro and I are over. Now, I need to get my mind off of the repeated messages he’s left since and focus on dancing. I have the biggest competition of my career to prepare for. He has a business to run. Why he continues to pursue me, I have no idea. We have nothing in common.
Except great sex.
“Earth to Shanna,” Kristoff jokes. “Are you with me?”
“Yes. Sorry. I have a headache.” That isn’t a lie actually…just not the whole truth.
“What should we do next about…the problem? Perhaps you should seek out a new partner.”
He looks so sad at the prospect. Something in my chest twinges, and I try to shove it aside, but that isn’t working.
“We don’t have time to talk about this now. You have to be at work in two hours, and I have to meet with the costumer shortly. Let’s focus on today.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened at Sneak Peek?”
As my brothers would say, oh, hell no . “Talking won’t win us any trophies. From the top.”
Using the remote control, I start the music again and get into position. Sighing, Kristoff assumes his pose and we dance for another grueling half hour.
Until the door to the studio swings open unexpectedly.
Alejandro strolls in looking dark and yummy and like a man with an agenda—one that starts with getting me out of my clothes.
I suck in a breath. “What are you doing here?”
“I assume your phone is broken, since you haven't returned my calls and messages.” He arches a brow. “So I decided to find you.”
“We’re practicing.”
The protest is automatic. His presence here, so unexpected, raises my defenses. Thank god. I need those barriers against him. If I spend another hour with the man, feeling as weak as I do now, I’ll collapse against him and…I shiver. I’ll be vulnerable to him. I might even admit that I care.
That’s not acceptable. My personal life can wait another handful of days, until after the California Dance Star is over.
“You’ll win because we will uncover who’s been blackmailing you,” Alejandro vows.
“The security tapes turned up nothing, you said.”
“That's true. And I assume the blackmailer hasn't contacted you, or you would have let me know.”
“Of course.” And I would, no matter how much talking to him tempts me to do more—the way I want to right now. “But I haven’t received anything so far. So we have nothing else to say.”
Alejandro’s expression tells me he can see right through my bluster and isn’t put off in the least. Damn him! Why can’t he be polite, like most people?
“How did you find out when and where we’re practicing?” I demand.
With a sweep of his hand, Alejandro outs Kristoff as the culprit.
I whirl on my partner angrily. “This is practice time, not social hour. What the hell were you thinking?”
“That if I refused to tell him how to find you, he would end my privileges at Sneak Peek."
I grit my teeth. Fabulous. Yet another example of a man thinking with his penis. Apparently, it never occurred to him—or he doesn’t care—that I didn’t want Alejandro to find me. I’m just not ready, and I don’t know how to deal with these feelings.
“I have been thinking,” Kristoff says. “Since your first effort to draw out the blackmailer did not succeed, perhaps you should try again.”
“Are you serious?” My jaw drops.
Kristoff nods. “Stage another public scene. The word about you two is out now. People in the community are buzzing. If you give advance warning, I suspect the person responsible will come.”
I consider Kristoff’s words with dread—and excitement. More of Alejandro’s touches, his wild sort of lovemaking… So very tempting. I didn’t merely like what we did together, I basked in it. And I’ve been aching for more since.
Not a good idea. More Alejandro will only addict me further to the man. And while I don’t know him well, I doubt he’ll settle for a woman whose schedule is as demanding as mine, especially since I spend nearly every day dancing in very suggestive ways with another man. Besides, I’ll bet Alejandro would expect a great deal emotionally from the woman he calls his—certainly more than I’m comfortable giving. He has to see my limitations.
So why is he still pursuing me?
As much as I want to give into my fears and dismiss Alejandro, what Kristoff says makes sense. Maybe the blackmailer didn’t act last time because he didn't know about the scene. Or he couldn’t be there that night. Alejandro and I didn’t have much time to spread the word beforehand. The audience who witnessed me coming apart in Alejandro’s arms was there by chance.
“I agree,” Alejandro says. “I want to catch this bastard. But the choice is Shanna’s.”
I bite my lip. With the competition nearly here, my options are running thin. Throwing away almost twenty years of training, sweating, and suffering to avoid having sex with him seems beyond stupid, even if fear screams that I should run like hell.
Reluctantly, I nod. “I’ll be there tonight.”
Alejandro shakes his head. “Tomorrow night. Give me time to suggest that there may be a repeat performance, just in case the scum doesn't have his ear to the ground, so to speak.”
I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I want desperately to be with him. At the same time, I don’t. It’s so unlike me to be indecisive and conflicted. I have to regain balance, get a grip on my control.
“Fine,” I announce. “I’ll turn up around eight. We’ll commence at eight-thirty. I need to be home by ten.”
Turning away with a dismissive whirl, I reach for the remote control, intent on starting the music, resuming practice…and ignoring Alejandro before he notices my trembling and makes me completely insane with his hungry stare.
Instead, he grabs my arm and turns me back to face him. “You’ll turn up at eight-thirty. We’ll commence at nine. If it takes a whole night of public performances, you'll stay until we know who and what we’re dealing with.”
I jerk from his grasp. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Shanna, can you really afford to wear your bitch armor with me?”
No .
“I know that's not you,” he murmurs. “And I only want to help you.”
He's getting uncomfortably close, and I'm feeling so very weak. “Whatever. If it amuses you to play the caveman?—”
“It doesn’t.” He leans close and whispers for my ears only, “But it intrigues me to see you hide from the pleasure you know I'm going to give you when I have you naked and under me again.”