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Watch Me

Page 11

by Shayla Black


  Nothing.

  “You must not fidget.”

  If she hadn’t been so nervous, she would have laughed at Kristoff. Why not just tell her she shouldn’t breathe? “I know. Sorry.”

  “You are nervous?” her big, blond partner stood behind her and whispered in her ear. “Do you fear losing?”

  The competition? Not as much as she thought. They would lose, of course, and during her largely sleepless night, she’d come to accept that. Kristoff had only been living his personal life, and he’d tried to engage in his kink of choice in a responsible environment. It wasn’t his fault someone had it out for her and had circumvented Sneak Peek’s rules to hurt her. But Alejandro? She absolutely feared losing him. In fact, she suspected she already had.

  Shanna had delivered the tickets to Sneak Peak in person this morning. Del had greeted her at the door. Actually, greeted was a strong word. Met was more accurate. Reluctantly, in fact. His behavior had been considerably cooler than their last meeting. When he said he’d give the tickets to Ali, she added that she hoped he would visit her before the show so they could talk. Del had merely given her a terse nod, then shut the door in her face.

  Clearly, she’d hurt Ali enough to seriously piss off Del.

  Alejandro hadn’t come to see her before the competition. Another scan of the ballroom…there sat her father, who waved. She smiled back, but she still didn’t see Alejandro’s coffee-dark hair, swagger, or sin-laced smile.

  Had she pushed him away one too many times? The painful thought tightened her stomach into impossible knots. Throwing up didn’t feel out of the question.

  “Shanna, you are nervous about the routine?”

  No. She and Kristoff were ready. Beyond ready. They knew these dances. They had perfected their chemistry and rhythm on the floor. The blackmailer’s footage would keep them from winning, but they would give their best showing. She couldn’t ask for more than that.

  “Or do you regret that you were unable to replace me with a new partner in time for this competition?”

  Scowling at his bitter tone, Shanna glanced over her shoulder at Kristoff. Mouth pinched, eyes tight, shoulders stiff. Damn, he looked nervous. Petrified. What was that about? He was never wound up before a competition. Maybe he was rattled about the video potentially circulating the judges’ table? After all, this threat affected his career, too.

  As Kristoff continued to watch her with narrow, burning eyes, and she replayed his question in her head, Shanna finally understood.

  “I’m not replacing you.” She dropped her arm to her side and reached for his hand. She gave it a friendly squeeze. “I never auditioned anyone else. You were right about the partner swapping; it was stupid.”

  He shot her a suspicious stare. “Why the change?”

  “I used to bury my guilt about dropping someone for the sake of winning. It never worked. You made me see how pointless it was.” With a little help from Ali and Del.

  “You do not seek to replace me? Truly?”

  She smiled. “You’re stuck with me.”

  Kristoff leveled his mega-watt smile at her. “For days now, I cannot stop from worrying you plan to replace me.” He squeezed her hand. “Thank you. I am happy now.”

  “We win or lose together, okay? Besides, maybe we haven’t been winning because we’ve forgotten that dancing isn’t all serious. Maybe…we just need to have fun with it tonight, see what happens.”

  Kristoff hesitated, then teased, “Who are you and what have you done with my partner?”

  Despite her nerves and her worries about losing Ali, Shanna had to laugh. If nothing else, she’d cemented one important relationship tonight. And damn if it didn’t feel good.

  “If we were alone, I’d slug you for that.”

  “There is the Shanna I know and adore,” Kristoff muttered.

  Just then, the music ended, and the announcer reminded the crowd of their competitors’ names and number. Shanna drew in a relaxing breath. In. Out. They were next.

  “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’s 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 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 cha-cha-cha.

  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. 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 middle-aged 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?”

  “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 true?”

  Shanna swallowed a lump of nerves. God, she hoped Alejandro being here meant that he’d forgiven her for running away and being afraid to believe 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 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 California Dance Star Latin dance ballroom champions, couple one hundred three, Shanna York and Kristoff Palavin of Los Angeles!”

  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, 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 Cup Latin competition.”

  Wow, a huge dream come true. And yet… Her life would be incomplete, 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 Kristoff to tango Alejandro’s way.

  Kristoff resisted. “I must tell you something.”

  “Later. Okay?”

  “But—”

  “Give me fifteen minutes.”

  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 Ali 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 engaged, well-wishers and competitors were headed her way.

  Her father approached first with a proud gleam in his eyes and big hug. After she quickly introduced him to Ali and basked in her dad’s pride, Shanna kissed his cheek. Then she 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 an up-tempo 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 do not hate you.”

  His face still gave her no inkling about his true feelings, but Shanna considered not hating her a decent 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?”

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

  “Does tonight work for you?” She cupped his cheek in her hand, looked right into those killer hazel 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 it then. I was just…scared. But I’m not anymore. And I want you to know that I care about you. A lot.”

  He quirked a dark brow. “Care. 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.

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

  “I love you.”

  “And you mean this?”

  “Except 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.

  “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. 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… How do I get you out of this infernal costume so I can make love to you?”

  “I want to,” she breathed the words against his mouth. “I want that so much…but I was sewn into this costume. If you take it off, we won’t get it back on, and I have nothing else to wear.”

  He cursed in Spanish, something that sounded melodious but was, no doubt, foul.

  “I’ll
make it up to you.”

  He smiled, something sharp and greedy with his signature charm.

  “We’re leaving now. You will come to my bungalow and stay all night?”

  “Yes.” And the next, and the one after, and the one after that, if he’d have her.

  “You will not leave?”

  “In the morning? No.”

  “Ever?”

  Was he saying… “Are you asking me to…move in with you?”

  He clenched his jaw. “No.”

  Her stomach plummeted. “Of course not. I misunderstood.”

  “My Mamá, she would be very disappointed if we lived together. Just before you sent her to dance with Kristoff, a brilliant move, by the way, she asked if you were my girlfriend.”

  “You said yes.” A smile crept across her mouth.

  “I did, then I whispered in her ear. Do you recall?”

  “Yes, what did you tell her? And what is a nuera?”

  “I told her I had other plans.” Alejandro grabbed her hand, kissed it, then whispered, “Nuera means daughter-in-law.” He took a little black box from his pocket. “Interested in the role?”

  Shock burst inside her, breath-catching and sweet. “You’re proposing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be down on one knee?” she teased.

  “I would rather be on top of you, always.” He winked. “Will you marry me?”

  “YES!!!!” She clutched Ali tight as he opened the box. She fell in love all over again. “Yes!”

  “Good. I wasn’t taking no for an answer.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed as he stood up and slipped the square solitaire on her ring finger. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, slid down her cheeks. Probably ruining her mascara—and she didn’t care. “When did you buy this?”

  His cheeks flushed a dull red. “About four hours ago. But I have known that I love you for far longer than that.”

  “Me, too. I was just too afraid that love meant giving up my dream. I’m sorry. Never again.”

  “Together, we can face anything. Shall we tell my mother and your father?”

  “Yes. Just… I want another moment alone with you.” She squeezed his hand. “This is the happiest night of my life! The win, the engagement… Wow, almost too much good stuff to take in. I feel so complete.”

 

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