by Shayla Black
A moment later, they stopped in front of a local ice cream shop, quaint and somewhat old-fashioned. In a few hours, after dinner, this place would be crawling with families. But during the dinner hour, it was nearly empty.
“Ice cream?”
“I assume you like it.”
“I haven’t eaten dinner yet. I was planning to cook before you came over…”
He climbed out of the car and helped her out. “Who needs dinner when there is ice cream?”
“Who doesn’t need protein and nutrients? Ice cream isn’t a dinner food.”
Alejandro slipped an arm around her, and Shanna tried not to melt against the tempting heat of his body. Why did he have to be so damn sexy?
“I will not tell your mother if you won’t,” he teased.
“My mother died when I was four.”
She found herself choking out the words. She shouldn’t have opened her mouth; the truth only made her more vulnerable to him. But withholding that fact after he’d confessed all about his past seemed petty.
“I am sorry.”
She hung her head. “I don’t remember her. I have this…impression of what her laugh was like. I don’t even know if it’s accurate.”
He squeezed her against his side as they approached the counter. “So your father raised you?”
“Along with my brothers. They’re all athletes.”
“Which is why you are so driven to win.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Second place is nothing more than first loser. It’s the family motto.”
“Ah, this explains so much about you.” He turned to the teenager behind the counter. “A scoop of chocolate peanut butter and…raspberry amaretto. Shanna?”
“None for me. I have to fit into my costume—”
“She will have the same.”
“I will not!”
“Then pick your favorite flavors.”
“You’re going to force me to eat ice cream?”
“I am going to help you take a moment away from ambition and enjoy life.”
When was the last time she’d done that? Shanna thought back through the weeks, which became months…and quickly turned into years. The realization stunned her.
She hesitated, then caved in. It was ice cream, not a commitment. Tomorrow, she had a grueling practice. She’d work the calories off.
“Chocolate chip cookie dough and French vanilla.”
Alejandro paid as other teenagers behind the counter assembled their cones. In moments, they wandered to a little table outside and began licking on ice cream as the sun dropped closer to the horizon, with the California breeze stirring all around them.
After the first taste, Shanna moaned. “This is amazing.”
He smiled. “I discovered this place a few years ago. It’s part of my weekly ritual.”
“Where do you put it?” She eyed his hard body, absolutely no stranger to his rippled abs.
“I make up for it with plenty of cardio and carrots the rest of the week. But life is meant to be lived, no?”
Had she ever really thought about it in that context? “I suppose so.”
“You have been a very single-minded woman for many years. Dance has been your focus, your ambition.”
“And my passion.”
“No one watching you dance would deny that. You are very talented. You know this, right?”
She supposed. Yes, she could dance. When she watched footage of competitions, she knew she held her own in a room full of talented dancers. For the past few years, she even believed she began to shine a bit brighter than them because she practiced harder and wanted it more.
“I’m pleased with my performances.”
“This ambition, does it make you happy?”
Happy? An odd question. She didn’t enjoy being frustrated by the champion status she had not achieved yet. But she would be a champion. Once the trophy was in her hands, life would be very sweet, and the sacrifices she’d made along the way would have been worth it.
All she had to do was get dangerously close to the most tempting man she’d ever met in order to catch her blackmailer.
His question unsettled her. She’d never thought of her life in a happy/unhappy context. It just was. Of course, questioning her life was too easy to do when she had a man like Alejandro in front of her, reminding her of everything she’d been missing.
“Why shouldn’t it?” she asked.
“The way that ice cream cone is dripping and the fact I’ve rarely seen you smile, I suspect you have spent so much time dancing, you are out of practice when it comes to living.”
Dancing was life for her. So what if she didn’t eat a lot of ice cream? “Why do you care?”
“Because I am a man who would like to see you happy.” He brushed tender fingertips across her cheek. “What is the worst thing that could happen if you do not win Saturday night? Or ever?”
Immediately, she rejected the thought. But it was a fair question, one she’d asked herself during long nights when aching muscles, nagging injuries, and loneliness had kept her awake.
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I can’t let that happen. Failure is not an option.”
“You cannot control what will happen.”
Yeah, that’s what worried her.
“So what happens if you never win?”
She hated to even think the answer. But to speak it seemed unbearably personal. Yet Alejandro had poured out a part of his soul to her. He had not mocked her when she’d spoken of her mother, the rest of the family, or the origins of her ambitions. She had no reason to hide from him…except that he kept slipping behind her emotional barriers, which scared the hell out of her.
Why couldn’t she put distance between them? Why did she even care about his feelings? Normally, she had no problem with pushing people away, but Ali was…different.
“I would feel like a failure,” she whispered.
“You would consider yourself a failure, even after everything you have achieved?”
“Probably. My family would think I’m a failure. I have one brother who has been the top decathlete in the world. One has played in the Super Bowl. My father has two gold medals. I can’t compete.”
“Who asked you to?”
“You’d have to understand my family. For years, my brothers have endlessly tormented me.”
He shrugged. “The nature of men and their sisters. Their way of showing affection is to harass you. More manly that way.”
It wasn’t that simple, and she didn’t know how to explain it. “Family aside, I couldn’t give up dancing. I want to win, more than anything.”
“I would not suggest you give up dance. I merely think you should take the floor to indulge your joy of dance, not to pursue a trophy. The journey is the treasure, not the prize at the end.”
“Now you’re a philosopher?”
Alejandro shook his head and placed a soft kiss against her ice-cream cold lips. “Just a man who wants to see you smile. Will you?”
Shanna looked at Alejandro. He was so comfortable with himself. Somehow wiser than a man who ran a club for sexual indulgences should be. He made everything seem so easy. Even personal discussions, which she usually downright loathed, felt freakishly natural. No pressure. No scolding or telling her how to do things. No taunting her about her failures. Just a steady voice, a tender touch, with lots of insight.
Lovely…but none of that would put a trophy in her hand.
Shanna wrapped her fingers around his and smiled. “There. Are you happy?”
“I have seen more genuine smiles at a beauty pageant.”
Sighing, Shanna sat back and licked at her cone. “Really, why does it matter to you if I’m happy?”
Ali paused, seeming to weigh his words. “You matter. I would hate to see you sacrifice everything for something that may never happen. You have given up high school frivolities, friendships, romances…for a hunk of metal and a title.”
He was right…an
d wrong. Being a champion was everything to her.
“This is why I don’t date.” She stood and glared down at him. “I don’t expect you to understand. No one does.”
He stood and met her glare. “You have ended more than one dance partnership to pursue winning over friendship. What has that gotten you except a bad reputation? Those partners invested in you, cared about you. You cast them aside.”
“I had to! One was so injured, it was clear he was never coming back.”
“Might he have tried harder to recover if you had given him both a reason and a partner to return to?”
Guilt sliced through her. Maybe. Likely not…but maybe. Curt had been a hard worker and possessed a drive to win. Last she heard, he was selling insurance.
“Martin dropped me in competition. I could not risk it happening again. I’d lost faith in his ability, and a couple without trust does not function well.”
“The drop must have been painful, and I understand why you would not want to partner with someone ill equipped for the job. But as you say, trust is essential. After nearly two years together, you never gave him a chance to rebuild it between you.”
She rolled her eyes. “What are you, my dance pimp? And before you start in on Jonathan, that decision was mutual. He wanted to get married more than he wanted to dance.”
Surprise flashed across his dark face. “Really? My mother will be happy to hear that. She hates you because you ran off her favorite.”
Shanna sat again. “Ugh! Everyone thinks that. We…just knew it was time to move on, both of us.”
Speculation crossed Ali’s face, but he didn’t ask if she’d slept with Jonathan. For that, she was eternally grateful. “And now, you have issues with Kristoff. What will you do if we cannot find our blackmailer in time?”
Good question. She’d been putting that decision off. This was her year to win; she couldn’t imagine forfeiting. But… “If we don’t succeed in fishing this blackmailer out, I won’t have a choice. I like Kristoff. He’s so talented. He’s got great work ethic—”
“But you have no problem leaving him behind?”
“It’s business.”
“And you will not let anything or anyone stand in your way, will you?”
His soft question nearly crushed her with guilt. She shoved the feeling aside. Giving up over half her life and the chance to finally reach her dreams? “I can’t.
7
Alejandro paced in the security room, watching the cameras positioned over Sneak Peek’s front door. He checked his watch. Eight-forty five. People were beginning to stream in, in greater numbers than usual for this time of night on a Thursday.
The word about his scene with Shanna was out. He and Del had seen to it personally, not using names, of course…but socializing everywhere that it would be special.
The stage was set—if Shanna showed up. Now he worried she wouldn’t. After all, the woman who prided herself on punctuality was fifteen minutes late. Was she trying to make a statement or yank his chain? Or was there some other reason she refused to come here tonight? What could possibly be more important to her than losing? Not embarrassment or modesty. She’d already survived her first public scene, which was always the most nerve-wracking. But one thing he had noticed? Every time he tried to get close to Shanna, she seemed increasingly anxious and tense.
Was it possible she feared being close to him more than she feared losing?
“You’re wearing out the carpet,” Del teased.
Ali shot him a dark glare. “She’s not coming.”
“She’ll be here. You said yourself the woman is prickly and contrary for the purpose of being such. You admitted that she likes to control her situation, so it can’t have been easy on her when you told her when to show up, what to wear…and nothing about what she could expect.”
All of that was true, yet he’d had a larger purpose than being a controlling jackass. “I want Shanna to lean on me. I want her to know that she can trust me.”
He wanted her to see what it felt like for someone to stand by her, even if she wasn’t winning.
“You can’t force her to figure that out.”
“Normally, I would not try, but with Shanna…” He sighed and stared at the video cameras that showed no sign of her arrival. “If I cannot find some way now to encourage her to latch on to me, she will slip through my fingers.”
Del shrugged. “Why does it matter? I mean, I agree she will be helpful in finding whoever has violated the club’s rules, but we can flush out the asshole with or without her.”
“She is not business to me; she’s personal.”
“How personal?”
Interpretation: how deep were his feelings? That question had been plaguing him all day. Shanna was more to him than catching a scumbag blackmailer, more than an amazing lay, more than an intriguing woman. Analyzing how it had happened and why was pointless. It was what it was, and Alejandro always trusted his gut.
“I think I am in love.”
“That was fast. Less than a week.” Del arched a dark brow.
“More time will not change what I feel, except to make it deeper. She is strong and vulnerable, smart, adorably stubborn, and in utter need of someone to love. How can I resist?” He flashed Del a self-deprecating smile.
“How, indeed? If you intend to resist, figure it out fast. She’s here.”
Ali whipped his gaze up to the bank of cameras and smiled.
“Aww. She’s wearing a damn trench coat,” Del groused.
Laughter bubbled up inside Alejandro. “Of course she is.” Her little rebellion. “But I will bet she wore what I sent her underneath.”
“I can’t wait for this.” Del rubbed his hands together.
With blood burning a path through his veins, Ali burst out of the security office and stalked toward the front door. Del followed close behind.
Alejandro intercepted Shanna two seconds after she walked in. “Querida, are you all right?”
As Shanna strode in, she lifted her lashes in a skittish glance. “Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Her guarded tone sent off alarm bells. So she was trying to push her armor back in place, put distance between them. He frowned. Perhaps he had pushed her too hard last night…or made her feel too guilty.
“When you did not arrive at eight-thirty, I grew concerned.”
“No need.”
He reached up to help her with her coat. She jerked away. “Don’t. Just wait until…”
“We are on stage and I’m supposed to perform by fucking you?”
She swallowed and sent him a shaky nod that seared his guts with panic. After tonight, she was going to turn around and walk out of his life if he didn’t think fast.
“Is something wrong?” He gentled his expression.
She looked away. “This is business. You’re doing what you need to do. So am I.”
“Shanna, this is not a business dealing or mere sex to me. I want it to be more than that for you, too.”
She shot him a wary stare. “Until Saturday, I have to focus on fixing my problem. You want me to dance for the joy of it, not for the trophy. I can’t be joyful if I already know before I dance a step that I can’t win.”
Alejandro sighed. He’d hoped he’d gotten through to her during their ice cream date, at least in some small way. But he’d been deluding himself. She was determined to shut him out and focus on nothing but the prize.
“Not to interrupt, kids,” Del said, “but you need to make your way back to the room so you can get started. Showtime is in eight minutes.”
Resisting the urge to rake a hand through his hair, Ali gnashed his teeth. He needed a minute to collect a few props and his thoughts.
“Can you show her to the room?” he asked his business partner. “I’ll be there in five.”
Ali didn’t wait for the answer. He brushed past them, into the security corridor, and let the door slam behind him. Dread and anger crashed to the bottom of his stomach. Unless he acted fa
st, this could well be his last chance with Shanna. He had three minutes to figure out how to turn her head in his direction, convince her he wasn’t simply out to save his business or get laid, and persuade her they could be more permanent partners beyond tonight.
Miracle, anyone?
Del escorted Shanna through the club. She was aware of people all around her swaying and writhing to the techno music. But her thoughts… Alejandro had the lock on those.
Last night and today, he’d acted like he cared. Why? She’d told him over and over this was business.
Yeah, did it feel like business when he was deep inside you, making you scream? Or when he fed you ice cream and did his best to be there for you?
The man had her so confused. What should have been nothing more than a temporary arrangement for the sake of ferreting out a mutual enemy—and okay, maybe a little mutual pleasure—had suddenly become very tangled. In the space of a few days, she’d come to think of Ali as a fixture in her life. The thought of that fixture being removed hurt.
So dangerous. How could she focus on the competition with everything hanging over her head if she had to add new and scary emotions for Alejandro to the mix?
“Follow me,” Del said.
They crossed the dance floor and pushed aside a couple panting heatedly and letting their fingers do the walking. He escorted Shanna into a long hallway. At the end, he held a door open.
One peek inside, and she sucked in a surprised gasp. This was out of a fantasy! Plush, like a Pasha’s palace. Rust, gold, bronze, with accents of black and cream. An enormous bed. Pillows everywhere.
The audience would be bigger in this room. And closer. The odds of someone to bringing in a camera was definitely greater.
“We’ve got the security angles covered,” Del assured her before she even opened her mouth. “There are cameras all over this place. We’ve spent all day rigging it up. If someone tries to film you here, we’ll nail him.”
He wandered closer. Shanna tensed. Truth be told, the man made her nervous. He was dark like Alejandro. Both men had a wide streak of bad boy. Ali was like a fire, hot and sometimes unpredictable, never quite tamed. But Del…he could be a very cool customer. He’d do everything on his terms, in his time, his way. And show zero emotion doing it.