Hot Moves

by Kristin Hardy

  “You didn’t give me a whole lot of choice. I found you where I could find you.”

  “I’m working,” she said sharply.

  “Teaching?”

  “Robyn is. I’m assisting.”

  “Ready for some tango?” Robyn asked from behind her as though on cue. She stopped beside Thea, glancing at Brady. “Who’s this?”

  “Brady McMillan,” he said easily, releasing Thea’s hand to shake Robyn’s. “Got room for me in your class?”

  HE’D ALWAYS HAD A TENDENCY to leap into things. If it felt like a good idea, then he went with it, trusting to his head and body to get him through. As a result, he’d had some singular experiences. He’d pancaked a few times, too, but he figured that was the price of admission. Whatever the class was, he figured it was worth trying to fake his way through, especially if it gave him a chance to get close to Thea.

  The sweet-faced blonde he assumed was Robyn looked at him. “Weren’t you at the milonga last weekend?”

  Brady nodded. “Gave me a taste for it.”

  “We’re two weeks into the class,” Thea pointed out. “You’ll be behind, and anyway, it’s intermediate level.” She handed him a printed schedule. “Come back later.”

  “I can catch up if you give me some help,” he said easily. She wasn’t going to put him off. He’d seen her eyes darken when he’d taken her hand, felt her tremble. She could pretend she wanted nothing to do with him all she liked.

  He knew better.

  Thea sighed. “You don’t even have a partner.”

  “Why don’t you dance with him?” Robyn suggested. Something flickered in her eyes, a glint of mischief.

  Thea stared at her as though she’d sprouted an additional head. “How am I supposed to help you in the class if I’m dancing with him? He’s a beginner.”

  “And you can teach anyone. We don’t turn away students. Take him into the back studio if you need to give him some extra attention.”

  Brady kind of liked the sound of that.

  “Extra attention?” Thea choked.

  “You’re going to need to take some private lessons if you want to keep up with this class,” Robyn added to Brady.

  “Private lessons sound fine to me,” he said.

  He could practically see the air vibrating around Thea. It amused him. He wasn’t sure what was going on with her but no way was he going to let a woman this hot and, well, intriguing slip away. It had been too good the other night between them. And if she’d woken up with reservations, she was just going to have to get over them.

  He wasn’t about to give up without more.

  Oblivious or intentionally ignoring the situation, Robyn walked over to the stereo. “All right, everyone, I’m going to put on some music. Go ahead and warm up.”

  And Brady walked through the gap in the counter to Thea. “So? What are we waiting for?”

  SHE HAD, THEA ACKNOWLEDGED, been outmaneuvered, and so neatly she hadn’t even seen it coming. Sure, he’d had help from Robyn, who knew exactly what she was doing. The music began, the measured pulse of piano, the sultry moan of accordion. The dancers drifted across the room into position. Brady stood expectantly before her.

  And Thea stepped forward into his arms.

  She could tell herself she didn’t want him when he was across the room. It was harder when she was fused to him, his inner thigh hard and strong against hers. If it had been the foxtrot or the waltz, where dancers stood at a distance, she would have been all right, but tango demanded intimacy, from the tight, breast-to-chest dance position to the close footwork. With a partner who was focused on the dance, the intimacy was about the two of them crafting the flow of the movement together.

  With Brady, it had nothing to do with the dance.

  Heat. She could feel it through his clothing and hers, and it drew her back to stolen hours in the darkness, lying against each other in bed. And under his clothes she could feel the flex and ebb of muscles. They were lean and taut, strong but not bulky. And she could feel his fingers pressed against her back, knew the sensations they could coax from her body.

  She remembered.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded in a low voice.

  “Learning tango, I hope,” he said blithely.

  “You’re not here for tango.”

  “Then why am I here?” he asked and surprised her by leading her into the basic eight he’d learned at the milonga.

  “Because you obviously can’t take a hint. What is it, you showing up here, some kind of game?”

  “I don’t play games.”

  She back-led him through a turn. “Oh yeah? I think you’re one of those guys who can’t handle a woman saying no.”

  “I don’t think you are saying no,” he murmured, pressing her more tightly against him.

  “Oh, take a look, buddy. Read my lips,” she began. And without warning, they jolted up against another couple. Thea stumbled, clutching at Brady’s shoulders. “Excuse me,” she rushed to tell the couple they’d run into. “So sorry. We weren’t watching where we were going.”

  “I’ll say,” Brady muttered in her ear. “You told me to watch your lips.”

  “Listen,” she began furiously, “just because we boffed our brains out—” The words hung in the silence as Robyn stopped the music. Thea glanced across the room full of people staring at them and flushed. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “We’re, ah, just going to go in the back and run through a few things.”

  “Have fun,” Robyn said helpfully.

  Brady followed Thea into the private studio, closing the door behind them. “Time for some extra attention?”

  Thea stalked farther into the room, then whirled on him. “You’ve got no business here.”

  “Sure I do. It’s a free country. What was your tango party all about if not to get new customers?”

  “You’re not here for tango.”

  “Who says I’m not? You’re supposed to be teaching me.”

  “You came here to find me.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” he threw back, an edge to his voice. “You were the one who walked out, remember?” Behind him, the wall of mirrors threw their reflections back at them.

  “Did it ever occur to you that I walked because I didn’t want you finding me?”

  “Yeah?” He tucked his hands in his back pockets and moved forward. “But the question is why.”

  “I don’t owe you an explanation,” she said hotly.

  “After the night we had? I’d call it common courtesy.”

  Thea threw up her hands in frustration. “You know, ninety-nine percent of the guys in the world would be thrilled to have a one-night stand where the woman didn’t expect anything. Why can’t you be one of them?”

  “Because I think anything that good deserves a rematch. Or at least a reason.”

  “Yeah, well, think again. You might want more. I don’t.”

  “Oh yeah?” He stepped toward her, his voice deceptively reasonable.

  “Yeah.”

  “All right, then. Done. Teach me to dance.”

  Her brows lowered. “Give me a break.”

  “Now who’s not listening? Come on, teach me. That’s what I’m paying for.” He stopped before her and raised his hands, staring at her.

  Thea worked her jaw in silence.

  “Still waiting,” he said mildly.

  She stepped in and slid her hand over his shoulder. And that quickly, he pressed his palm flat on her back and pulled her in against him.

  For a moment, they didn’t move. Ignore it, Thea told herself. He was only pushing her for a reaction. She had news for him, though, she could stand it as long as he could. He wasn’t going to get to her.

  But with every second that passed, she became more and more aware of his body. With every second, she became more and more aware of the rise and fall of his chest, the feathering of his breath on her cheek, his mouth so close. She could hear each separate beat of her pulse in her ears.
/>   She cleared her throat. “I thought you wanted to dance.”

  “I’m trying to get my frame right.”

  “Your frame’s fine.”

  “You think? I’m thinking maybe I need to adjust it a little bit,” he said, and pulled her in closer to him. “Don’t tell me you don’t want it,” he murmured in her ear. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember what it was like because I can feel you shivering.”

  “The air conditioning’s up too high,” she threw back in desperation.

  “Bull,” he murmured, lowering his face toward hers. “Why are you so dead set on running away from this?”

  She couldn’t remember why. She knew there was a reason, knew that she needed to keep to it, but with his lips so close to hers, when she knew all the places he could take her, it was hard to make herself care.

  And she began to tremble harder.

  “It was good,” he whispered against her lips. “You know it was, and you know you don’t find it like that very often. And when you do, you don’t up and leave.” He brushed his mouth against hers.

  Thea wasn’t aware that she moaned until she heard it. She couldn’t think about anything but that tempting brush of his lips that only made her want more.

  And the moan was all it took for him to crush his mouth to hers.

  It was like being on one of those instant start roller coasters, one minute still, the next minute racing up the first hill, overwhelmed by sensation. His mouth was hot and demanding, fueled by equal parts desire and frustration. His hands were hard against her. And she could try to ignore the way his body felt, but then there was the taste of him, sharp and male. And she could try to ignore the taste, but there was his scent. And even if she managed to ignore that, there was the heady feel of his mouth on hers, his tongue caressing, teasing.

  And then she couldn’t make herself ignore any of it but matched him demand for demand, mindlessly eager for just one more taste. She pressed herself against him, curling her arms around his neck, catching her breath as he slipped one hand up under her tank to cup her breast, squeezing the nipple through her bra. A tiny bolt of sensation that had her making a noise of impatience.

  Out in the main room, the students erupted in laughter at something Robyn said. The sudden sound was enough to have Thea dragging herself back to reality. She pulled away from Brady.

  “I’ve got to be out of my mind,” she muttered, stalking away from him. “We’re in a dance studio. Robyn’s out there with a class.”

  “Relax. The door is closed.”

  “Like that makes a difference?”

  “Versus doing it in front of everyone, yeah.” He watched her. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

  “Maybe you should. I’ve got to help Robyn teach a class.”

  “What about after?”

  “After, I go home. Alone,” she emphasized. “Look, I couldn’t care less if you don’t like hearing the word no, deal with it. We are done.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Thea didn’t bother to answer. She walked out of the studio into the main ballroom without a backward glance. Brady followed her to an open space in the corner. When he stood before her, she exhaled audibly and stepped into dance position with him, keeping her frame crisp and staring resolutely over his shoulder. If she tried hard enough, she could make herself not feel.

  “Dance zombie,” he said softly in her ear.

  “What?”

  “You’re wearing your dance zombie face. Like when you were dancing with your students before. Just in case you’re wondering, it doesn’t fool me.”

  “I’m not trying to fool you.”

  “That’s good, because we’re going to have to see a lot of each other if I start taking lessons.”

  Her eyes flicked toward him. “What?”

  “More lessons.”

  “Does the phrase when hell freezes over mean anything to you?” she asked pleasantly.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Me, I like things hot.”

  It seemed like forever, but eventually the class did end. Eventually, she released him to walk off the floor with the rest. And she knew it was cheap, but she fled to the ladies room, taking her time after. When she came out, Brady was nowhere to be seen.

  Exhaling, she picked up her shoe bag and sat to change into her street shoes, ignoring the flare of tension between her thighs. So there was something physical between them. So what? She’d lived without the physical for a long time. She could live without this.

  She was zipping shut her bag when the door to Robyn’s office opened. And to her everlasting surprise, Brady and Robyn stepped out, laughing.

  “Then it’s a deal,” he said, turning to shake hands.

  “I look forward to it. Thea,” Robyn called. “Come on over here. You need to hear about this. This is Brady McMillan.”

  “I already know,” Thea muttered.

  “As in the brewpub McMillans.”

  Thea blinked. “The Lincoln School?”

  Robyn nodded. “Brady and his brother recently bought an old theater they’re going to remodel as a hotel and pub. They’re thinking about working it as a tango theater and they’re looking for some help from us.”

  Robyn’s eyes were practically incandescent with excitement. The McMillans, Thea remembered. The brothers with the Midas touch. “That sounds like good news for you.”

  “I’ll have to tell you all about it. Brady wants to keep taking lessons here, but he also needs help coordinating some showcases.”

  “We’ll need to move on it soon,” Brady put in. “The grand opening isn’t that far away and there’ll be a lot of planning to do.”

  “Like I said, the only problem is that I go on vacation Friday.”

  “We start construction this week. I’m going to need input on some of the specs, maybe a roughed-out program pretty soon. Isn’t there anyone else who can do it?”

  And they both looked at Thea. “I’ll check into it and get back to you,” Robyn told Brady and turned to Thea. “You and I should talk and hammer out a way to get Brady exactly what he wants.”

  Thea didn’t have to look at Brady to know he was grinning at that.

  “I should get going and let you two hash out the details,” was all he said, though. “Get back with me this week sometime before you go, Robyn, all right?”

  “Absolutely,” she said warmly.

  He shook hands with Robyn and merely winked at Thea. “Have a good night.”

  The minute the downstairs door bonged to signal he was gone, Robyn whooped. “This is it, this is it, this is it!” she shrieked, throwing her arms around Thea’s neck. “I am so set. Oh, honey, I know you don’t want to deal with him but pretty please, just while I’m gone, work with him. I really need this to go. I swear, I’ll never ask you to do anything again if you do this. Promise me?”

  “I promise,” Thea said with a sinking feeling.

  6

  HE’D NEVER BEEN A GLUTTON for punishment, Brady thought as he carried his kayak out the door of his house. He’d never been the type who got off on rejection, no matter how gorgeous the woman doing the rejecting was. He generally tended to go after women who were interested in him, which fortunately happened more often than not.

  So he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t get Thea Mitchell off his mind. She kept telling him she wasn’t interested. Taking the hint would be smart. Except that he couldn’t forget the way her eyes had widened when he’d taken her hand, the way she’d moved in his arms.

  The way her mouth had come alive under his.

  That thought alone made him get hard. The first night they’d been together there hadn’t been any of the shadows, there hadn’t been any of the reluctance. That night she’d been there all the way and it had been the next best thing to a life-changing experience for him.

  And it made him want her, not just physically but all of her, the throaty laughter as they’d danced, the mischief in her eyes in his living room, the woman who told him t
he song of the tango in the night.

  What he didn’t understand was why since then she’d been shutting down every time things got started with them. The physical buzz there was real, that much was obvious. So why did she keep pulling away?

  And why did he keep finding himself compelled to go after her?

  He wasn’t one of those guys who was hung up on saving wounded birds. He wasn’t the type who was fascinated by the dysfunctional. What he wanted, pure and simple, was the woman he’d met that first night, the one who held nothing back. And he could sense her there, he just couldn’t figure out how to let her loose.

  But he wasn’t ready to give up, not yet.

  Brady hoisted the kayak up on his shoulder and headed for his Jeep. For now, he’d do what he always did when he needed to think. He’d go somewhere and beat his body all to hell and knock every thought clean out of his head, and when he hit that haze of exhaustion in the aftermath, then he’d start thinking. And he’d figure it out.

  He leaned the paddles up against his vehicle as a silver minivan pulled into the driveway and Michael got out. Brady glanced over and adjusted his watch. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.” Michael shut the door and walked up.

  Brady turned, kayak still on his shoulder. “How’s Lindsay?”

  “Better.”

  “Better is good.” Brady watched his brother come to a stop, hands in his pockets. “You, on the other hand, are looking ragged around the edges there. Kids working you over?”

  Michael snorted. “The kids, the pubs, keeping Lindsay down. I’m looking into cloning.”

  “I’d figure Lindsay would be the easy part.”

  “The problem is, she forgets. Or she says ‘one quick thing’ and the next thing I know, she’s mopping the kitchen floor and hauling laundry around.”

  “I always knew women hogged the housework because it was more fun.”

  “You want fun, come over any time,” Michael invited.

  “Yeah, I think I’ll hit the river instead. Unless you want me to sit the boys again,” he added.

  Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you sit for me again, Cory’s going to be running a Texas hold’em home game for his playgroup.”