Chapter Eleven

“No way. No. Fricking. Way.”

Hands on hips, Jade wore a mutinous look on her face. Han clenched his jaw to stop words clamoring to get out, however he couldn’t help the glare. Damn, was she good at pushing his buttons. He knew she’d react like this, prepared himself even, and he was still thoroughly annoyed. He’d waited until the end of their lesson to spring it on her, hoping the vast improvements she’d made would help her appreciate her new skills.

“I’ve been taking lessons for a month and you think I can perform on stage?” She marched over to the bench and with jerky movements started removing her shoes; the ones she planned to wear for the wedding. “You know, Han, sometimes I really hate you.”

“I know.” He chuckled and his ire disappeared. “Your complete lack of regard for my celebrity status is one of the things I love about you, chica. The only people who dare tell me to shove it since Marguerite died are you and Cat.”

His voice petered away, and he sucked in a breath like the words burned his tongue. Had he really just uttered the L word? He barely suppressed his own, No fricking way. Turning his back on her, he crossed his arms, prowled across the room and threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. He didn’t do love. That wasn’t what he meant. Never in a million years. He decided when Marguerite died, it wasn’t worth the pain. He lowered his head and silently cursed Beck for bringing this woman into his life. And he just told her he wanted to do a dance performance with her at his fundraiser? He swore violently in Spanish under his breath.

“No reason to get so worked up, Han. I’m sure you have plenty of girls to choose from.”

He didn’t turn around; he couldn’t. He didn’t dare look at her, and it took all his control to keep his voice neutral. “Not plenty, but the person who was going to do it with me has canceled for a family emergency.” He took a deep breath, berating himself for being such an idiot, and crossed his arms as though it would protect him from feeling anything. He turned to face her. “You, whether you believe it or not, are extremely talented, and I would like to highlight at the fundraiser another aspect of how dancing can help someone. It’s helped you with your emotional issues. And don’t tell me it hasn’t.”

She lifted her chin. “Oh. My. God. Not only do you want to put my dancing on display, but how screwed up I am as well? You need your head examined.” She paused and chewed her lower lip for a moment. “I’m sure I’m not your only possibility. Pick someone else. How about Cat?”

“My dance studios are not just for kids. And you misunderstand. I’m not going to reveal anything personal about you. I want adults to see they can benefit from learning to dance as well.”

He dropped his arms, crossed the room and sat next to her. He needed to get over himself, ignore his feelings. Acting on feelings only caused trouble. This was for Let’s Dance and the kids who benefited from having such a place to escape reality. It wasn’t about him.

“You are the one for the job, Jade. We’ll do a cha-cha, to one of your favorite songs if you like. I know you can cha-cha like nobody’s business; I’ve seen it first-hand. It won’t take much to get you ready and teach you the routine. I’ll keep it fairly simple, since you won’t have a lot of time to work on it.”

She rubbed her hands down her face, then propped her chin on them and looked at him, the mental battle plainly written on her face. He scooted closer to her, but not so close their legs touched, and caressed her back with his hand, ignoring the fire that raced up his arm at the contact. If only he could fan it until it consumed them…Stop it.

“Chica.” He ran his fingers lightly down her arm and took her hand in his. “You are so close to moving on with your life unhindered. You need this. I need this. We will be helping each other, all for a worthy cause.”

She looked at him, and he suppressed a wince. If eyes could bite, consider himself bitten.

“How could I not get over any issues I have after being around you? I swear, you have touching OCD or something. Do you ever keep your hands to yourself?”

He shrugged a shoulder, tightened his grip on her hand and grinned unrepentantly. “I’m a tactile person.” He moved his leg so that their thighs barely touched. “It’s a good thing, and you can’t fool me. I know you like it.”

Her only answer was a glare.

“I have an idea. Do you have some time right now?”

“I’m not sure I want to answer that.”

He blew out an exasperated breath, then tucked a wisp of her hair behind her ear. “You need to see what I see when you dance. I think it will boost your confidence.”

She looked at him askance. “You’re just flattering me to get me to do what you want.”

“I don’t flatter my dance students. I flatter the women I want to sleep with.”

She rolled her eyes. “All right. I’ll let you give it a shot. I’m curious about the lengths you’ll go to get what you want. With someone who isn’t bowled over by who you are.”

“Damn, you’re hard on a man’s ego.” He made an exasperated noise and ran a finger down her cheek. “Come with me to my office.” He stood and pulled her to her feet with the hand he still held.

****

When she entered the office close on his heels and saw the window that looked out onto the dance studio, she made a choking noise and prayed he didn’t hear it. Had he watched her dancing that first day? Had the Devil of the Dance Floor seen her shake her bootie? Could there be anything more humiliating? Not even dancing at the fundraiser seemed worse. She put her hands to her hot cheeks and quickly looked around the room before he figured out what she was thinking.

After taking in a desk and a flat panel television hanging on one wall, her eyes landed on a display case with several trophies. She walked over and looked at them, mostly because it gave her a reason to keep her back towards him and regain her composure. What she really wanted to do was crawl under his big black desk and hide.

She perused the trophies and tried to calm her heartbeat by reading their inscriptions. About ten years ago Han had been a ballroom and Latin dance champion in several different, renowned competitions all over the world. Which reminded her exactly who this guy was and brought her right back to feeling embarrassed. And it didn’t settle her heart rate.

“Rather impressive collection you have here.”

He lifted one shoulder. “I have lived and breathed dancing most of my life and it’s paid me back generously. So when I say you’ve got talent, I know what I’m talking about.” He made a sweeping gesture to the television where a recording of her dancing before their first lesson started to play. “Look, you can see what I mean.”

Her cheeks burned. He’d not only watched her, but recorded her too? “Oh my God, Han…No. Just…No.” She felt his gaze on her but refused to look at him.

“Do not feel embarrassed, Jade. I record everyone, even myself. It helps me see where work needs to be done. It’s nothing but a tool of the trade.”

Her eyes flicked to him in disbelief before returning to the video, and after several moments of watching in silence, she had to concede he was right. When she pretended she wasn’t watching herself, she could see that she had natural grace and wasn’t just awkwardly moving to the music.

“It’s hard to believe that’s what I look like on the outside. It’s not at all how I feel on the inside when I’m doing it.”

She swallowed a lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. Was he really asking so much of her? If this was what she looked like, then she wasn’t going to be making a fool of herself, which was what she feared most. She threw herself down on one of the chairs and crossed her arms. Han turned off the video and sat behind his desk, the leather of his chair creaking as he leaned back in it and crossed his arms.

Even if the time he spent with her was because of a gift to his best friend, it didn’t minimize all he’d done for her and Lexi. And he had no idea what he was taking on when he offered the gift to Beck. He’d been more than generous with his time and efforts so far so she could dance at her sister’s wedding. How could she not do this thing he was asking of her? She really owed him a lot more than that.

“I’ll do it.”

“Really? I expected more of a fight.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “You’re the expert. If you’re confident I won’t ruin the reputation of your dance studio, I’ll bow to your better judgment. And like you say, it’s a worthy cause. When do we start?”

He uncrossed his arms, blew out a breath and sat up in his chair. “The fundraiser is the Saturday before the wedding. How much time do you have to work on this? You still need to get the routine down for the wedding party dance and then we need to practice it with Beck and Lexi.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Now that I think about it, maybe I’m asking too much. You have your own business to run and there may not be enough time.”

She raised her brows. “Having second thoughts now? You’ve gone to all this trouble to talk me into this, and now you’re backing out?”

He glanced at her briefly before he turned his attention back to his fingers and drummed them faster for a moment. Then he steepled his hands and tapped his forefingers together. “As soon as I knew I needed someone to do this, you came to mind. I just didn’t think through the logistics of it.”

“Fortunately for you, quarterlies aren’t due right now. And since I knew I’d be busy for the wedding, I made sure my schedule was pretty light until afterward. I’m only working three days a week for the next month. Besides, I’m not a one-man show. I have two other employees.”

“Ah, bueno!”

He smiled brilliantly and if he’d done that when he first asked her to do this, she would’ve agreed immediately. She frowned. That couldn’t be good.

He relaxed back into his chair. “When can you start?”

“Tomorrow work for you?”

****

Han sat in his hot tub, easing away the aches and pains from a day of hard physical work, sipping a glass of Merlot and trying to figure out what in the world had gotten into him. He frowned darkly at his glass before taking a long swallow, then refilled it from the bottle perched near the edge of the tub.

His gut told him he should stay away from Jade, yet here he was signing on for more time with her. Not that she wasn’t the exact person he wanted for the dance routine; he hadn’t made that up. And he reluctantly acknowledged it wasn’t the perfectionist in him that asked her to do it. He wanted her to be his dance partner on stage more than he ever wanted anyone or anything. Which should’ve been reason enough for him to run like a mad man in the opposite direction. There were plenty of other people who could get the job done. He frowned again and took another big swallow of the fine wine, doing it an injustice in the process.

Had a woman ever dominated his thoughts the way she did? No, unless it was related to dance. And if the woman had nothing to do with dancing, then thoughts of her never interfered with his work. Why was it so different with Jade?

He snorted in disgust, set his glass next to the wine bottle and slipped under the water for a moment in an effort to wash her out of his head. Sitting back up, he brushed his hair back out of his eyes and ran his hands down his face to wipe away the water. He finished off the wine in his glass and decided to stop there. He’d polish off the bottle when he wasn’t under the influence of the hot tub.

He laid his head back and closed his eyes. What he needed was to take her to bed for a week straight. Get her out of his system so he could focus again. That was really the root of the problem. It was the first time he’d ached so much for a woman and not acted on it. And it was exactly why he made sure he never went within a mile of a woman he suspected required more than something physical. It complicated things and he loathed complications. He’d had more than his fair share and had made an art of avoiding all things complicated.

Which settled the unease of his obsession with Jade but led him to dwelling on what getting physical with her off the dance floor would be like. No less disturbing than the emotional mess she’d brought on him, but easier to deal with. As soon as the wedding was over, he was going to pursue her in a whole different way. To hell with the fact she wasn’t his usual type. He needed her out of his system once and for all, and it was the only way he knew to do it.

****

“No, no, no!” The Devil of the Dance Floor barked at her for the millionth time. And this was definitely The Devil of the Dance Floor. Han had vanished five minutes after they entered the dance studio.

“That’s not going to make me get it right. No matter how many times you say it.”

He prowled across the room, picked up a towel and ran it over his face and down his bare chest, before slinging it around his neck. It had her thinking of an exotic black panther again, all glowing yellow eyes and rippling muscles. But actually, his glorious, half-dressed physique wasn’t what her problem was. Well, mostly. The problem was she couldn’t turn off her head. She knew the routine by heart but kept second-guessing every step she made. It was no secret it was driving Han crazy, but it made her nuts, too.

“You have got to turn off your head and feel the dance.”

“Really, Han? That’s the secret? Because I didn’t realize that from the hundred other times you’ve told me today. Or yesterday, or the day before that. Looks like you’ve found a hole in your teaching skills.” He muttered something in Spanish and she wished he said it a little louder so she knew what it was. Then she looked at his face and decided not to ask him to speak up. She was better off not knowing. Still, she couldn't stop the words that came out of her mouth, though it had to be the worst time ever to say them. “Be careful, Han; I speak fluent Spanish.”

His startled gaze went to her face; then his expression froze. “Would’ve been nice to know that sooner.” He ripped the towel off his neck, turned his back towards her, and pitched it at the laundry bin. She braced herself for what came next. “What you need is some tequila to turn off that analytical brain of yours. I realize dancing uses a lot of counting, but you’re obsessing over it.”

She relaxed. If he was going to ignore her revelation, then she would too. They had more important things to take care of, but Han’s suggestion was not the answer. “I need tequila to cope with my teacher. And I never thought I’d say this, but I am so close to being thoroughly sick of that song. And it was one of my favorites.”

He walked back across the room with a towel for her, stopping just short of entering her personal space. Though at this point, there was no such thing as personal space around him. He gave her the towel, and she wiped herself down with it.

“What other music makes you want to move?” he asked in Spanish.

Her mouth opened involuntarily, and she closed it quickly when she realized it. So he didn’t believe she knew Spanish. Her gaze darted to his face, wondering what kind of idea had popped in his head. She told him in Spanish some of her favorite artists. “I don’t see how changing the music will turn off my brain.”

Was that admiration that flashed in his eyes? He cleared his throat and smoothed a strand of hair off her face. “That’s one sexy accent you’ve got…”

If it wasn’t for the shiver that streaked down her spine at the contact, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Hopefully, after all this, anyone could touch her, and she wouldn’t have a meltdown. If that turned out to be the case, then everything Han was putting her through would be worth it.

He reverted to English. “I want to give it a try. I know a couple of songs that work with the routine.” He walked over to the sound system and got the music ready. “Here’s hoping.” He stepped up to her and held out his hand. She took it. “Ready?”

“To throw in the towel? Yes. To dance? Do I have a choice?”

“No.” He narrowed his eyes for a moment. “I want you to feel the music and the beat. Concentrate on the words if it helps.”

“Yes. I know. You said that already. Repeatedly.”

This time he rolled his eyes, and she realized she wasn’t the only one stressed out about how hard it was for her. So when the music started, she made the attempt again. And it actually worked. Somewhat. The change of song helped because she wasn’t so accustomed to the music she no longer heard it. Unfortunately, it was in spurts. Her head would turn off for a few measures and then before she realized it, she was counting the beats, thinking about the next step, where her hands should be, what she looked like when she was shaking her bootie.

“Progress,” he conceded when the song ended, but didn’t look pleased with it. He put his hands on her shoulders, then absently ran them up and down her arms. “Let’s try something else. You like those modern remakes of vintage music the best?”

She looked at him, conflicted. She wanted to do the dance right, was willing to do what she had to do to make it perfect. But she was loathe to admit how much she enjoyed that kind of music. It was so…Corny. And very un-hip.

“Sí? Lexi says this is so.”

She blew out a breath in exasperation. “Yes. I know, it’s lame.”

“Como? I think it fits you. There’s some great dance music and I enjoy it too. Any particular ones you like better than the others?”

She shrugged. “Not really.”

“I’ll queue up a few. We are going to simply dance. Like at the club. No routine, no particular dance style. Just moving to the music. You following my lead. Sí?”

“I’ll try anything at this point. I probably want this perfect more than you do.”

“Hard to say. We’re both still here at eight o’clock at night, no dinner and no intention of leaving any time soon.”

The music started, he pulled her close and that was when she knew she was in big trouble. She didn’t think about her feet and where they should go next; she didn’t think about her frame; she didn’t think about the count. She could only feel, and her mind was stuck on the sensations. How his touch felt so incredibly right. Like it had when they danced at The Conga Room. So it wasn’t the tequila. It was him. And she knew she should be worried about that, but she wasn’t. Not when she was feeling so…Much.

The music throbbed around them, around her. Through them, through her, and became a living thing that took her control. Control she surrendered willingly. Because not having it felt so…right.

She wasn’t exactly sure when the dancing turned into outright foreplay. It was before she realized how turned on Han was. Before he started running his hands along her back. And long before he bent his head, captured her mouth and devoured it like he’d been celibate for years. She had no idea when they stopped moving to the music or when he backed her against the wall. Her brain was off with no intention of coming back on any time soon. And it didn’t frighten her—it freed her. The bubble was gone, obliterated by the avalanche of sensations aroused by Han’s…everything. Because of him she’d done a one-eighty; from cringing at a touch to dreading its absence. And tequila had nothing to do with it this time.

He pressed her into the wall, still moving rhythmically to the music and as his hands cradled her head, she wished her hair was loose so he could thread his fingers through it. He unleashed a maelstrom inside her, making her desperate for more, never wanting him to stop touching her. His hands left her head to caress her neck, then down her arms and back up. How could she have ever dreaded something so heavenly?

Her brain came back on with a vengeance and she froze for a moment before struggling frantically to be free; kicking and hitting in an effort to regain her personal space, to make it all go away. Han let her go like she burned and moved away to lean against the wall next to her, his breathing audible, hands clenched at his sides.

“Damn, chica.”

His voice was thick and rough and even in her panic, made her melt inside. Brought her back to where she was and who she was with.

“I am so sorry. I swear, I never meant things to go so far. I would never, ever force you to do anything. But you are one hot mama made for loving.” He cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. He wasn’t the one who should be sorry, and she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes and look at him. Instinctively her fingers went to her neck, wanting to grab her locket. It wasn’t there. She’d given up wearing it during her lessons long ago and hadn’t needed it until now. She’d been happy about that. Until now.

She had to swallow before she could speak. “There’s absolutely no need for you to apologize, Han. I’m the one in the wrong. For teasing you. It’s my fault we can’t finish what we started.” She opened her eyes, ran a shaky hand over the top of her head and down along her braid, bit the inside of her lip. “I—thanks for respecting my wishes.” She covered her face with her hands. “You have no idea how much I wish things were different.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do. I don’t think I’ve wanted anything more than I want you right now.”

She dropped her hands to her side, pressed them into the wall and turned her head to look at him. His fisted hands pressed into his thighs. Her gaze traveled upwards to a well-muscled abdomen that moved rapidly with his deep breaths, then moved quickly on, over his chest and came to a stop at his face. Looking at his physique had her wanting things she knew she wouldn’t be able to follow through on. His jaw was clenched, a sheen of sweat covered his brow and upper lip, and his eyes were twin flames that threatened to devour her, to drag her back where she didn’t dare go. She was not a tease, and she wasn’t going to experiment with him to see how far they could go before she panicked again.

“I think it’s time we called it quits. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow, which should give us time to cool down enough to practice dancing.”

“Oh no you don’t. We’ve made some significant progress, and there’s no way I’m letting you leave and give you time to revert back. I just need a minute to cool down. And now that I know you’re not freaked out by how much you turn me on, we can dance without my having to be careful you don’t notice it.”

“Oh my God…So the trouble we’ve been having getting this right isn’t just my fault after all.”

He pushed himself away from the wall and barked out a laugh as he walked across the room and grabbed his water bottle. After taking a long swallow he said, “Though my tension in that regard may have communicated itself to you, it still all goes back to your issues, Sweetheart. You are not pinning any of this on me.” He set the water bottle down, started the music and held a hand out to her. “No more worrying about—er—inappropriate contact. We are not leaving tonight until you get it right.”