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‘I’m Marcus. Hi.’
‘Aisling,’ she smiled as the music started and Maria Lozano began to shout instructions over the top of it.
‘I’m going to apologise in advance for crunching your toes.’
‘Apology accepted.’
‘I’m only here because I’m best man at a wedding next month. The bridal party is doing a Latin American dance at the reception for some unfathomable reason. Apparently, I don’t have a natural aptitude so the bride-to-be booked me a lesson,’ Marcus said. ‘And I feel ridiculous.’ He was jiggling his hips in her direction at the instruction of Antonio Lozano.
Aisling grinned to herself glancing over at the couple who’d inspired her ‘Dear Aisling’ letter. They’d been at odds when they first arrived, but he was looking even less impressed now. It didn’t look like he had a natural aptitude for hip swivelling either. She hoped they made it down the aisle. It must be a new trend she decided—salsa dancing at weddings—and she made a mental note to ask Leila later. ‘You’re not alone, feeling ridiculous I mean,’ she laughed turning her attention back to Marcus and quickly straightening her face upon receiving a glare from Mrs Lozano.
Salsa was not just magic, apparently it was a serious business too, or at least learning the basic steps was. This sexy man thrusting himself awkwardly at her could pass for a Latino she thought. Her pupils had dilated the moment he’d walked into the room apologising for being late. Leila had elbowed her, telling her to close her mouth, which she did. She’d already taken stock of his dark hair and serious eyes as they connected with hers.
He’d come to stand next to her and so it had been natural that he partner with her. Quinn and Leila had paired up. Aisling was too scared to look over at them lest she and Leila have one of their giggle attacks. She wouldn’t have been able to keep a straight face were it Quinn currently gyrating in front of her. It was all very well and good getting down and dirty when you had fiery Cuban blood rushing through your veins. It was a little trickier above a shop on Dame Street in Ireland, home to the Irish jig.
‘What brings you here?’ Marcus asked, attempting to spin her around.
‘My friend, the blonde girl over there in green, thought it would be fun,’ Aisling whispered shuffling her feet along to the tempo. To her surprise, she was picking up the steps and managing to keep time with the rhythm. She was, she realised, having fun. She risked a glance at Leila and Quinn. Leila was gazing down at her feet as though surprised to discover she had two left ones. Quinn though, she noticed, watching him for a few beats, was a natural. Who’d have thought?
She was glad Marcus was no Fred Astaire and had wound up here at Lozano’s Dance Studio. She’d already decided tonight was going to be worth her not being able to move in the morning. It wasn’t going to be down to her having used new muscles, as she attempted moves she hadn’t known existed. It had been a long time since she’d shaken her booty with as much enthusiasm as she was currently doing. No, her immobility would be because of her poor feet. She’d already lost count of how many times Marcus had trodden on them! Ah well, she thought stealing a glance at him from under her lashes, he had warned her.
‘How do you manage it?’
‘What?’
‘Dancing in those shoes. Staying upright must be a challenge in itself.’
‘Practice.’ Aisling grinned. She really was enjoying herself and was pleased she’d let her friend talk her into coming. Wednesday night salsa classes were going to be fun.
‘Ah, I see. That’s the secret then. So what do you do?’ Marcus asked.
‘I manage my family’s guest house on St Stephen’s Green, O’Mara’s.
‘I know it.’
She wasn’t surprised. O’Mara’s was a fixture on the Dublin landscape.
‘Until a couple of months ago I was working in resort management. My last post was near Hania in Crete. It’s a stunning part of the world. Have you been?’
He shook his head and frowned. ‘No, I usually head for Cyprus. You came back to take over the family business?’
‘It was that, or it was going to be sold. My dad died, and Mammy decided she needed a fresh start. It’s taking a bit to settle back in, but the guesthouse is home.’
‘I’m sorry about your dad.’
She smiled to let him know it was okay. ‘What about you, what do you do?’
‘I’m a manager at AIB.’
‘A salsa dancing bank manager.’
He groaned, ‘That was never on my CV, but you know I think I might have to thank Madeline for making me come along tonight.’
They smiled at one another and Aisling felt a shiver of anticipation that tonight was the start of something special.
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Across the room Quinn was amazed. His feet had taken on a life of their own once the music had started and he was following Antonio’s instructions with ease. He glanced over at Aisling. He’d only agreed to come to these classes because it was a chance to be close to her. He could see how this was going to go though. He’d seen it the moment her face had lit up when that eejit, Ricky Martin wannabe, who was wiggling his hips in front of her had walked into the room.
‘Quinn get off my foot,’ Leila yelped.