Watch Me (14 page)

“Before we go on, I must tell you something.”

“Kristoff, we’re about to be announced.”

“This is true, but—”

“Couple number one hundred three, Shanna York and Kristoff Palavin from Los Angeles, California.”

The crowd cheer wasn’t as enthusiastic as Kristoff would like, Shanna knew. She should care, she supposed, but right now, she couldn’t get past the fact that Alejandro had chosen not to use the tickets she’d left him.

Which meant he’d given up on her, she feared for good. Forcing a smile as the onlookers clapped, she walked onto the dance floor, Kristoff beside her, cradling her palm in his. They struck their pose and waited.

Doing her best to focus on the next three minutes, Shanna plastered on a smile and projected it to the crowd. The music burst over the quiet, Shanna arched, kicked, and turned.

There sat Alejandro.

His face gave away nothing, but the grin that shaped her mouth was

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her first real one of the day.

He’s here. Here!

And he looked incredible in a black suit, white shirt and a satiny charcoal tie.

She knew he looked even better out of the suit. Before she whirled around to face Kristoff again, she flashed Ali a look she hoped communicated just how thrilled she was that he’d come. Over the next two minutes, forty seconds, she and Kristoff poured their souls into the dance. And he was spectacular, as if some light had been turned on inside him. Relaxed yet crisp. Strong. God, he played to the crowd. He really was incredible. Shanna responded, acting the part of the seductive female to his commanding male in the tango. No doubt in her mind, they sparkled, shined, brought the
WOW
to the dance floor. Shanna couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed dancing so much.

When the music ended, she knew they had done their best.
Knew it.
Yes, she’d love to win tonight, but if it wasn’t in the cards, they would spend a year living down the scandal and practicing their butts off. They would conquer this trophy next season.

The crowd stood, cheered, their enthusiasm catching. Never before had she felt so liked by the crowd, so connected to them as she and Kristoff bowed.

She turned her head slightly to see Alejandro. He, too, stood and clapped, then bent to whisper into the ear of a small but striking middleaged woman who shared his eyes. His mother. Then he turned his attention back to her, fixing burning hazel eyes on her, and Shanna felt the zing and sizzle all the way to her toes. Damn, she loved that man.

“You and Alejandro?” Kristoff asked as they left the dance floor. “You have a…thing?”

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“What?”

“You looked at him as if you cannot wait to devour him, as if you are all his. Or as if he is all yours. Is that so?”

Shanna swallowed a lump of nerves. God, she hoped Alejandro’s being here meant that he’d forgiven her for running away and not believing in them… If not, she wasn’t giving up. No more switching partners for her when things got difficult—not professionally or personally.

“That’s my plan.”

“In fourth place…” the announcer droned, and Shanna listened long enough to realize her name hadn’t been announced, then clapped politely.

This was usually the part of the event that made her most nervous. How many times had she stood at the corner of the stage, trying not to pass out, praying she would not be disappointed by failing to grab the trophy again, only to hear her name announced long before the first place winner’s? How many times had she trotted out her plastic smile, like third place thrilled her, while feeling crushed inside? Too many. But tonight…she almost
wanted
the announcer to call her name now, so she could finish this dog and pony show and talk to Alejandro. His face still gave away absolutely nothing, not anger, not joy. Had he forgiven her and come to be with her? Or had he simply come because she’d given him free tickets and his mother liked to attend? No clue. That man could probably play a mean game of poker.

“In third place…”

Again, not her name. Another polite clap. Another clandestine glance at Alejandro. He raised a brow at her, but his expression remained

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utterly, frustratingly unreadable. Forget the contest results. Not knowing how Ali felt about her was killing her.

And what did that say about how much she loved him? She was well and truly hooked.

“In second place…”

Not her name again. The couple beside them swept out on the floor, and Shanna could see the woman’s forced smile hiding disappointment and the crushing blow of defeat.

But wait…if second place had been announced, and there were no other couples out on the floor…

“In first place, the U.S. Latin dance ballroom champions, couple one hundred three, Shanna York and Kristoff Palavin of Los Angeles, California!”

Kristoff squeezed her hand as he led her out onto the floor. “We did it!

We did it!”

They had. Finally! Alejandro was clapping for her. His mother, too. The whole crowd did, including her father, who enthusiastically whistled like he was at a football game. It was bad form in ballroom, but she smiled, glowed and grinned from ear to ear.

Tonight, she was finally a champion.

But how had it happened, given the blackmailer’s threats?

“What about…you know?” she said to Kristoff through her smile. Maybe the threatening bastard hadn’t followed through?

Before he could answer, the emcee came forward with their trophy. Kristoff grabbed it with one hand and hoisted it up in the air, along with their joined hands. Together, they bowed.

Professionally, she had never been happier than in that moment.

“Ms. York and Mr. Palavin are now eligible to compete in the upcoming World Dance Cup Latin competition.”

Wow, a huge dream come true. And yet… Her world would be flawed,

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her triumph hollow, if she didn’t have Alejandro to share it with. The emcee took the trophy from Kristoff. The lights dimmed, and as champions, she and Kristoff danced. But her mind was on Ali, the way he watched her, his face shuttered but his posture relaxed. What was the man thinking?

Soon, others crowded onto the floor. With the spotlight no longer on them, Shanna all but forced him to tango Alejandro’s way. Kristoff resisted. “I must tell you something.”

“Later. I promise.”

“But—”

“Give me fifteen minutes, okay?”

Before he could reply, they reached the edge of the dance floor. She turned to Alejandro’s mother.

“Mrs. Diaz? Hi, I’m Shanna York.” She held out her hand.

“
Ella es su novia
?” his mother asked Alejandro sharply.

“
Mamá…
” He sighed. “
Sí
.” Then he whispered something in her ear…and her entire face changed, lightened, glowed. She turned to Shanna with a beaming smile and said in accented English. “Thank you for the tickets. Congratulations on winning,
nuera
.”

Nuera?
Damn she was going to have to learn to speak Spanish at the first opportunity. “Thank you. Have you had the pleasure of dancing with my partner, Kristoff?”

She shook her head and risked a shy peek at Kristoff. “He is one of my favorites.”

“I’m sure he’d consider it a favor. He gets tired of dancing with me and would love your company.” Shanna turned to her partner. “Kristoff?”

Her partner smiled charmingly and took hold of the older woman’s hand. “Shall we dance?”

Off they went. Shanna watched Kristoff handle Ali’s mother with aplomb as he led her into a waltz. The problem was, with Kristoff

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engaged, well-wishers and competitors were headed her way. Shanna grabbed Alejandro’s hand and dragged him backstage, down a poorly lit, winding hallway, into an empty office. She had no idea who it belonged to—and didn’t care—but she shut the door behind her and locked it.

“Hi.” She smiled. “You came. Thank you.”

God, could he hear her heart pounding like a hip-hop song at full blast?

“You sent tickets. This competition meant a great deal to you.”

Shanna heard the edge of anger in his voice, glimpsed it in his tight jaw.

“Not as much as I thought. I know that now, thanks to you.” She bit her lip, wondering how bad it was going to hurt if he didn’t want to hear what she had to say. “I’m sorry about…the other morning. You know, leaving you alone. For everything. Please tell me you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

His face still gave her no inkling about his true feelings, but Shanna considered his not hating her a great start. She rushed to Alejandro, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

Then again, unless she convinced him of her sincerity, there might not be a tomorrow for the two of them.

He kissed back. Oh, did he ever. And he tasted
so
good. Like brandy and a hint of cinnamon. Hot. And a few moments later, hungry, insistent as his mouth devoured hers. He threw his arms around her, banded them tight around her middle, as if telling her without words that she wasn’t going anywhere again. She melted, might as well have become a puddle at his feet.

Long minutes and a pair of damp panties later, she broke away, breathing like she’d run a marathon. And unable to restrain a hopeful smile. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

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“For leaving me alone in my own bed? Hmm, I may need more…persuading.” A smile toyed at the corners of his lips.

“Does tonight work for you?” She cupped his cheek in her hand, looked right into those killer eyes, and threw caution to the wind.

“I may require more nights. Many of them.”

Hope burst in her heart, so explosive, she could hardly breathe. “Ali, I am so sorry. What I did was insensitive. I know it. I knew then. I was just…scared. But I’m not anymore. And I want you to know that I care about you. A lot.”

“Care.” He quirked a dark brow. “In what way?”

Shanna knew she had his attention. Not only did she feel it against her hip, she felt it in his gaze, in the way his arms tightened around her.

“How much,
querida
?” he prompted again. She swallowed down the tangle of anxiety and need and anticipation threatening to kill her courage. “I love you.”

Those three words had barely cleared her lips before Ali stepped around her and, with an impatient arm, wiped every piece of paper off the flat, faux-wood desk and onto the floor. A moment later, her back was against the cool laminated surface and every inch of his body covered her completely, from the bunching shoulders beneath his elegant coat, to the hard abs that rippled with every breath, to the narrow hips…with the impressive erection between.

“Say it again.” His voice was thick with demand.

“I love you.”

“And you mean this?”

Shanna let her gaze delve straight into Alejandro’s hazel eyes and she didn’t look away. “Except to my dad, I’ve never said those three words to a man. Ever.”

Finally, expression warmed Alejandro’s strong, square face. Happiness, hunger, adoration…love.

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“
Te amo, querida
.” He dipped his head for a long, sweet kiss. “I love you, too.”

Then he kissed her again, long endless moments where Shanna felt blissfully lost in passion and joy. Alejandro’s endless caress shimmered want in every crevice, corner, and nerve ending. She wanted the moment to last forever.

With a moan, he lifted his head, his hazel eyes snapping with a hunger like she’d never seen. “What I wish to do to you…with you, to show you how I feel…” He groaned, gathering her thigh in his grip, lifting it high over his hip, and grinding against her, right where she wanted him most.

Anchoring her hands in his short, inky hair, she planted her mouth against his and devoured him in turn with another kiss that sizzled her insides and rubbed her restraint raw. “Oh…I want to touch you, feel every inch…”

“That can be arranged.” He dragged his palms up her back, down her sides. “How do I get you out of this infernal costume so I can make love to you?”

“I’m sewn into it.”

“Damn it,” he muttered, still feeling his way around her back. He followed that with a curse in Spanish that sounded melodious but was, no doubt, foul. Alejandro grabbed the neckline of the spangle-ridden dress.

“Ali—”

Shanna only got the first syllable out before he ripped the costume in two and pulled the fragments wide. Cool air hit her bare, overheated skin. Her nipples beaded at the sudden chill, then tightened again when Ali fixed his hot gaze on the rosy peaks.

“Oops.” He sent her a slow, wicked smile.

She should be concerned about the costume. And she would

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be…much later. At the moment, she arched to him, silently begging for his touch. “These silly costumes are so fragile.”

“Indeed.” He shifted against her, pressing, his cock harder than ever as he palmed her breast. “If I had known you were nearly naked under there, I would have ripped the damn dress off the minute we cleared the door.”

Stifling the explanation about undergarments being built in, Shanna focused instead on the need tightening in her belly…and lower, where her flesh melted, swelled, slickened. Ached like she’d never been satisfied.

She laughed, but pointed out, “I have nothing else to wear. How will I get out of the ballroom without flashing everyone?”

“I will think of something,” he breathed and nibbled a very determined path down her neck. “Right now, your wardrobe is not my top priority.”

He latched onto one nipple with those full lips, his tongue providing sensual torture that made her arch against him and struggle for a good breath. Beneath him, Shanna wrapped her legs around his hips and writhed.

“Making you scream is,” he clarified.

He backed away long enough to tear at her pantyhose, making them a candidate for the trash can, then he was back, hot and single-minded, his face feral. He reached between them, his fingers impatiently tugging on his zipper—and brushing her clit.