Chapter 16 #3
I nearly choke on the patatas bravas I swiped from a waiter passing by.
The Paso Doble is the most passionate and aggressive dance we've practiced over the last couple weeks and the one I'm most frightened of performing live.
It's not only sensual but powerful and demands precise and fast lines.
The choreography is quick and leaves no margin for error.
Each partner must be able to hold their own whilst simultaneously working together.
Militaristic in nature, the paso doble is not for amateurs and even though we've practiced it for the sole purpose of possibly needing it to garner attention, I was truly hoping we'd avoid having to utilize it in favor of more casual dances.
"What?" I clear my throat and ask between chews, "Now?"
"What part of we can't let them leave do you not understand?"
"First of all, watch your tone." I point my index finger up at him, not deterred by the hateful gleam in his eye. "Second, won't dancing with you just show him I'm unavailable?"
"It will show him how you move and give him insight into what you will be like behind closed doors.
" He grows more frustrated with each step they take.
"All the better dancing with me. It'll spark his jealousy.
Rogelio hates me. They both do. Neither will want me to have you once they suspect I'm interested or laying claim. "
It makes sense, but I'm still not sure I can nail the dance, and we've never performed in front of this many people. Dona Otero and Lupe think we're magical together but that doesn't mean shit.
"What about a different dance, the Bolero is a perfectly good da – "
Suddenly, Remus turns to me and extends his hand, pleading in his eyes. Then he whispers something I don't expect. "Please, Ines."
Every excuse and snarky insult die on the tip of my tongue.
Without realizing it, I've been hypnotized by his golden-brown eyes and slide my hand into his.
Together, we walk to the middle of the dance floor and his commanding presence alone seems to send the message that everyone else needs to clear the space for us.
As we walk by the band, Remus whispers something to them and then takes his place with me.
The hushed whispers fall silent when the music flares.
A wave of strong drums, sweeping horns, cellos, and violins sound, and the added guitar and castanets set us off to the races.
Just as we practiced multiple times, Remus struts toward me and wraps his hands around my neck and waist aggressively, pulling me close to him.
My fingers dance across his chest before we take off in frame.
The music sounds like a tune one would march to battle in, and it reminds me of how symbolically, we are declaring war against those who have wronged us, against those who continue to persecute our respective peoples.
Twists, turns, extended legs, sharp crisp lines – it's a war cry, a matador fighting a bull. This dance is nothing if not a dramatic and entertaining show. There's power and storytelling that transcends mere steps.
I allow Remus to lead me, and for a second, I completely forget there are hundreds of eyes on us and the sole purpose of doing the paso doble was to stop the Murrietas from abandoning the party.
"Eyes on me," he whispers, reminding me to stay grounded and focused on him.
We break frame and dance separately, but in tune with one another.
Stomps in perfect beat in the lulls of the music.
We mirror one another, until we make our way back to center and into each other's arms. My leg snakes up his as he dips me, his lips hovering over my breastbone, before he pulls me up and twirls me several times.
I keep with the rhythm and stop when the music stops, extending my leg and squatting in perfect time with Remus.
We slide up to a standing position, our arms just as passionate and intentional in movement as our legs.
Spirited, there's no other way to truly describe a paso doble.
But as the music crescendos, Remus and I close the gap between us and it's as if our bodies fuse into one.
His hands drag across my thigh and lower back as mine tug through his hair.
Our lips hover and for a moment I think our mouths might finally meet, but the sound of applause as the music ends rips me from that thought.
Reluctantly parting ways, I curtsey, and he bows. Something awfully close to desire flares in his eyes, but that can't be right. Tempted to read into how he's staring at me is a short-lived endeavor because as I stand upright, a hand slips over my shoulder and Remus' face smooths to neutral.
I turn around to find Rogelio smiling at me. "That was a vivacious dance, Senorita Lozano."
I flash my most flirtatious grin and bat my lashes. "Thank you, Don Rogelio. I did not think you would notice."
"Forgive my standoffishness earlier." He rubs his hand against the nape of his neck. "I am afraid I was quite rude. In truth, large gatherings are overwhelming."
"There is nothing to forgive," I say sweetly.
"Would you care to join me for a drink?" He offers his arm, and I slip mine around his.
"I would love that." I toss my head over my shoulder to see how excited Remus must be that his plan worked, but he's nowhere to be found.
"Is everything alright?" Rogelio's voice jars me back to the present, shooing away the sudden sadness I feel.
"Of course," I lie, but I'm quite good at making fallacies feel comforting. Now all I must do is secure an engagement.