Taming the Tango Champion

by Cait O'Sullivan

  But this time Matthias wanted the last word.

  Tomorrow the show went live. She would be there and he would judge her. Fine. The next day they were meeting in the park with Bella. For his child’s sake, he would refrain from demanding answers from her mother. This was his first afternoon with Bella and he wanted to make sure she had a good time. Perhaps, if things went well, he might take her back to the ranch. If he couldn’t trust Ava, would she be trustworthy in raising their child?

  His anger simmered, all the deeper because of the desire still coursing through him. He slammed his fist on the balcony.

  Ava Whittaker wasn’t going to get the better of him.

  * * * *

  Ava eschewed the Thames path, choosing instead to walk in to Battersea. A black cab mercifully stopped at her hail and she practically sobbed her address to the driver as she collapsed in the back seat.

  Did women get any more stupid than her?

  On the way back from the kitchen with a drink, she had passed by an open door on her way back from the bathroom. A low ringing sounded and she had glanced in on auto-pilot. Obviously Matthias’s study, his laptop lay open on an oak desk. The screen whirred on, a large circle in the center indicating something coming soon. Intrigued she took a step closer, knowing she shouldn’t.

  An image appeared. Beatriz and a young boy, the boy gazing longingly from the screen. They were video calling Matthias. Who was the boy? Was it his son?

  She allowed the tears to finally come, holding a shaking hand to her cheeks to shield herself from the curious glance of the cab driver. Matthias had unlocked the passion and love she had very carefully packed up and put away in a corner shelf of her mind. And now see what happened?

  Should she have stayed behind to talk? Asked him about the boy on screen? Perhaps…but right now she couldn’t talk about it. So he wasn’t married, but clearly he and Beatriz were close and possibly shared a child together.

  He could’ve told her, although casting her mind back, they hadn’t actually talked much. It was too late to go back now. Text him. She discounted it even as she thought it. Worst case scenario he would delete it without acknowledging it, best case was he’d just ignore it. Either way it was a lose-lose scenario.

  Besides, it was apparent that Beatriz was the woman he loved enough to have children with, leaving his strongly held convictions behind.

  Not her. She wasn’t special enough for him. A tumble in bed was all she was worth. The cab drew to a halt at a red light, and tears cascaded down her face as she stared at the amber street lights. They were stopped outside a nightclub, rather a special one, if the amount of paparazzi outside was anything to go by.

  “All right luv?” The gentle note in the cab driver’s voice induced more tears.

  Was there a more devastating realization than one of unrequited love? Thinking he felt something for her, when all along he was probably rubbing his hands in glee, thinking, Easy Ava. She doesn’t even require much courting—no drinks, no dinner, just a quick dance and hey presto, she’s anyone’s. Her feelings, the chemistry, the loaded glances? Existed only in her own small, deluded mind.

  Could she fool herself into thinking she didn’t love him? For now there was no doubt in her mind of her colorless future without him by her side. Her innate sense of fairness stirred.

  He was pathetic, sleeping around while his family stayed at home. She nurtured the thought, allowing it to sink into her heart. Get the message? He thought he was something special, well he was just like other men, following where his dick led.

  Well it certainly wouldn’t lead him to her again. She started placing barriers back up. A wall around her heart, mind and soul was required, not allowing any of his disturbing masculinity through.

  A tough couple of days were ahead, the live show on Saturday night, followed by a “play date” with Bella and Matthias. Exhaustion washed through her at the thought. She had to battle through.

  Chapter 9

  An agonizing, sleepless night left Ava pale and gaunt.

  At three AM she had reluctantly admitted that knowing about Matthias’s partner and son hadn’t dampened her love. Given time maybe. But worse still, at four AM, she had cursed herself for running away, again. It hadn’t given her peace of mind, quite the opposite. She had learned that the hard way, but it looked as though she was going to re-visit that particular lesson.

  With a slow twisting of her gut, she acknowledged the possibility of it being a harder lesson than before. For example, if she had stayed and talked to Matthias, at least now she would have clarity. Instead, all night long, she’d tossed and turned, searching feverishly for an escape from her dreams of Matthias. The vastness of the Atlantic had stood safe between them the last time she had her illusions of love and life with him destroyed by his engagement photo. Now she had no cushion, and no choice other than face him. To compound her misery further, she would dance and then make a fool of herself in front of him, on live TV. He would then comment on her performance.

  Deep joy.

  The studio’s hairdresser cleared his throat, bringing her back to the present.

  “Julian, you’ll have to work a miracle today.” Her reflection stared wanly back. Purple-blue bags heavy under her eyes, colorless lips and hair crying out for a wash contrived to make her feel even worse.

  “Don’t worry, darling, you will soon be fabulous. Your hair is beautifully thick. You’ve kept it in very good condition.”

  By the time Julian was finished playing with her hair, he at least appeared happy.

  “First, I’m going to brighten your honey highlights, then I will sweep half of it high to clip back off your face, leaving the rest of the hair to fall over your shoulders when you waltz with Luca. Sit back, relax and leave your hair in my hands. Jane will be along after to do your makeup.”

  Ava nearly choked on her coffee when she glanced at herself a couple of hours later. She glittered and shone, her long blond hair backcombed and pulled high off her face, emphasizing her cheekbones, dusted with golden starlight. The three layers of mascara Jane coaxed onto her thick lashes turned her eyes a rich ultra-marine blue.

  She looked good. Attractive. Hot, even. Not even that knowledge cheered her. If anything, she felt even worse. What was the point in it when she couldn’t have the man she wanted, wouldn’t see him watching with pride and love in his eyes?

  Julian beamed.

  “You are perfect! Now—” He patted the arms of her chair. “—I know Emily is waiting for you.”

  Ava moved carefully at first, sure her hair was going to abandon the knot Julian had made at the crown of her head, but soon realized it was made of stronger stuff, had to be in order to hold up in a dance. She weaved through the corridor and into the huge warehouse-like studio of wardrobe. Emily bustled over.

  “Excellent, m’dear, you’re here on time. Come with me, please.”

  She guided Ava along the racks of clothes to stop at one with her name on it.

  “Here we are. And this one.” She reached in and pulled out a heavenly cloud of the palest pink satin and chiffon full bodied skirt, with an intricate pale pink lace body. “This is your ballroom gown.”

  “It’s incredible.”

  Emily smiled. “I know. It will look wonderful on you.” She pushed her toward a curtain to change behind.

  After shedding her ordinary clothes, Ava stepped into the creation Emily held for her. Underneath the dress was a flesh colored leotard, which pulled her tummy in and pushed her breasts out. It was a miracle worker. She gasped when Emily pulled it tight to close the zipper.

  “It’s okay, can you still breathe?” Emily didn’t appear very bothered.

  “Just about.”

  “Great, it’s a perfect fit. See for yourself.”

  Ava swung to the mirror, the layers of the dress rising and swaying with her, as though the creation had a life of its own. The material whispered a soft swish as the three-quarter length shimmied skirt settled around her legs, smooth
and silky. She resembled an honest-to-goodness princess.

  Emily made a few tucks here and there and pulled a few kerchiefs of pink silk from another hanger, which she attached to the high sleeves of the dress, allowing them to fall and move almost independently of Ava. “These float as you move, be gentle with them. Now, let me get your shoes.”

  “It’s beautiful, Emily, thank you.”

  Emily laughed over her shoulder. “I know. But wait until you see what I put you in for your Latin dance. You’re gonna smoke!”

  Ava made sure her smile stayed pinned to her face. Don’t even think about it.

  Adrenaline coursed through her, and combined with the caffeine she’d drank to counteract the sleepless night, jangled her nerves. She fastened her high heel pink shoes and went in search of Luca. She found Felicity and Luca talking on the corner of the stage, running through the logistics of the show.

  “Great, Ava, you’re here. Right you two. We will introduce you and once you hear your names, come out from the wing, walk to center stage and smile for the cameras. Then the music starts and it’s over to you.”

  Luca kept jumping up and down, an exhibition of boundless energy and enthusiasm for the evening ahead. He reminded her of Bella. If he crooned “wow” she’d have to laugh. Whether she’d be able to stop once she started was anybody’s guess, but Ava seriously doubted it. A little bout of hysteria may calm her though; her nerves may be too tired to complain after an overload of the giggles.

  “Okay everybody, thirty minutes before cameras roll.” Felicity made good use of her headphones with built in microphone, the only trouble being the combination of her electronics and the band tuning up kept causing a metallic screech to set Ava’s nerves further on edge. “Judges, are you ready?”

  Heart in mouth, Ava checked the platform upon which they would sit. Ensconced already were Edwina and Daniel and the third judge she had yet to meet, James Houghton. No sign of Matthias.

  “Come on, Ava, let’s practice that last turn and the ending again.” Ava found herself on the receiving end of a sharp glance from Luca, and she took her thumbnail out of her mouth. “We can do it, honey.”

  The dance floor swarmed as many other couples had the same idea, but Ava moved gratefully into Luca’s arms to concentrate on the last few difficult steps. After going over the dance in her mind, she decided to stumble and fall in the first minute. They would move from a basic box step into a double reverse spin. Ironically, she loved the buzz she got from the spin, but it provided her with the perfect opportunity to fall. Whether she’d be able to get back up and carry on dancing, she wasn’t sure.

  Felicity grabbed a microphone, and after testing it, spoke to them all. “Right, dancers. We need you behind the scenes. Remember your dancing order, and queue up on your nominated side of the stage when the couple before you finishes. When you’re introduced, the cameras will settle on you, and your bios will run in the background. Then Phillipa or Andrew will call you on. Good luck everyone, and have fun.”

  Phillipa Liston and Andrew Peacock were the presenters, renowned for having a laugh with their audiences. The stagehands and props clapped when the dancers left, leaving the floor looming large and serious.

  A small vibration ran through her veins and Ava glanced back at the judges’ area. Full on shock assaulted her once she saw Matthias step onto the podium. Dear God, he was here. She took another breath, deep from within her squeezed diaphragm.

  “Darling, we’ll be great.” Luca squeezed her arm, and leaned to kiss her cheek. “You’re great. And hey, whatever happens, it will be a lot of fun.”

  Ava pulled her lips in an approximation of a smile, the muscles in her face trembling at the effort. Bless Luca, how would he feel after she made a fool of them both on the dance floor?

  They were third in line. TV screens walled their waiting room. All the dancers, amateur and professional watched while the first couple sailed through their waltz. The second couple came on. Ava’s hands twisted, one over the other, a constantly moving cycle. Similar to how her gut felt. Luca grabbed one hand, stopping her.

  “Ava. Relax and enjoy it. Come on, it’s time.”

  They stood on the side of the stage. Luca put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. The second couple completed their rumba with a flourish.

  What on earth am I doing? I must’ve been mad to agree to dance. I’m going to be sick…

  James Peacock’s disembodied voice came through to them. Ava Whittaker and her partner Luca Caracci. The camera swung toward them. Luca held her at arm’s length, and gave a funny little half bow. It worked, he managed to wring a smile out of her. There was about thirty seconds before they would walk out in front of a live audience and who knew how many watching on television. But the enormity of it all paled beside the thought of Matthias with his hawk-like eyes upon her. Perhaps she could throw up, that’d be easier to bear.

  “Please give a warm welcome to Ava and Luca.”

  “Head up.” Luca whispered and swept her onto the dance floor. Tumultuous applause broke out as a white spotlight found and settled on them amidst the whirling colorful disco lights. Taking their opening stance in the middle of the floor, her internal organs seemed to have moved up into her throat. She wouldn’t, no, strike that, couldn’t look at the judges. The band played the opening bars of “Love Me Tender”.

  This was it. Breathing in, she inhaled the music. Eyes closed, she held them shut for a brief second, and opened them while plastering a big smile on her face.

  Luca swept her into their routine, one Ava could now perform in her sleep. After a few short moves, familiarity eased her into allowing exhilaration to lift and carry her. She moved fluidly through the steps. Lower body pressed against Luca’s, hands clutched his lower back, she leaned back and he lifted her off the floor and swung her around. Once he let her down they fell into the basic step leading to the double reverse spin. The spin came off perfectly as she landed lightly. Her cue to stumble. Her gaze went to Matthias. His dark eyes were alight with pride. A smile played on his lips as he tapped one finger at the side of his mouth in time to the music.

  Her last nerves melted away. Elation soared through her, giving her feet wings. She could no more stumble now than she could halt the euphoria sweeping through her. The expression on his face ignited her own pleasure in dancing well.

  Luca spun her in the reverse step and her feet barely touched the ground. She danced for Matthias, Bella and the beauty of love. Coming to a stop, lying in Luca’s arms, Ava’s heart pounded, fit to burst. The applause finally died, and Andrew’s voice called them over to listen to the judges’ commentary. Nothing could bring her down from this high.

  “Ava, Luca, how do you think it went?” Phillippa beamed at the cameras.

  She nodded to Luca, placing a hand on her diaphragm. She couldn’t speak, heck she couldn’t breathe at the moment. She only wanted to see Matthias, to see the same expression on his face. A camera blocked her view. Smiling, she nodded along to whatever Luca said and forced a few words out between pants for breath. “It felt great. I was totally unprepared for the feeling of dancing in front of the crowd. It was amazing.”

  Let me see Matthias! The camera finally moved to take in the faces of the judges, leaving his stony face visible. What? Why? Coldness gripped her.

  * * * *

  Matthias was well aware the cameras were preparing to shoot him and the other judges as they passed opinion on Ava and Luca’s waltz. He wanted to be last, give him time to prepare something to say.

  When he arrived earlier, he had full intention of picking holes in Ava’s dancing. Bitterness sat within him, becoming more comfortable as he nursed it tenderly.

  He shook his head. The camera picked it up and zoomed in on him.

  “Matthias de Romero, you’re shaking your head. Why?”

  Phillipa leaned in toward him in a conspiratorial manner, despite the millions watching. He schooled his face in what he hoped to be a blank expression. The danc
e had been faultless. What could he say?

  “I didn’t expect to see such a professional dance on week one.” The crowd jumped in with their applause, but he held a hand up to stop them. “We saw lots of rotation and expert changing of steps. However, when Luca swung Ava in the reverse spin, then the dance and the story of the profound love the waltz tells, took off.” The crowd loved his comments. There were roars of approval echoing through the hall. What else could he say?

  Ava owned the dance floor—and the crowd—from the moment she’d stepped out, her dress wafting around her, slender figure moving with grace and ease. He’d lost himself watching her dance, forgot everything that had gone on before. They stopped before the judges and his heart practically leapt out of his chest in his desire to jump over the desk and take her from Luca. Only he could dance with Ava, bring the best out in her.

  But his heart slowed, and reality knocked.

  She had walked out again, and once more he had been left with unanswered questions gnawing at his gut. An edge of coldness seeped through his euphoria. He blinked to clear his thoughts and became aware the crowd was quiet. They waited for him.

  “In fact, it was so good, I can’t help but wonder whether there has been any professional dancing before now.” The audience hissed.

  Phillipa frowned. “What are you saying?” She swung to the cameras. “The rules state our amateurs must not have received any professional training until now.” She turned back to Matthias. “Are you telling us you think Ava and Luca have broken the rules?”

  Silence fell.

  Matthias looked directly at Ava for the first time. She returned his glance, eyes luminous with unshed tears. Her knuckles showed white through her clenched fists. His heart was as cold as crystal, and just as vulnerable. She had hurt him. Only now could he admit it. All this time, he thought he was wreaking revenge, he was only following what his heart desired.