Read All For Love for Free Online Page A

to touch him.”
    Paige knew her grandmother was right, of course. She’d avoided partnering with him all day, thinking that the exercises would be enough. But they weren’t. Of course they weren’t. How could they be?
    She was acting like a love-struck teenager, and she needed to pull herself together.
    Paige felt terribly guilty that she had effectively wasted an entire morning, all because she hadn’t wanted Christian to find out how much his presence unsettled her. She’d wanted to avoid appearing like the kind of weak, simpering fan he probably saw every single day of his life. But, in doing that, she’d held back from giving her student the best possible lesson.
    “You’re a fabulous teacher, Paige,” her grandmother continued. “The best I’ve ever known. If anyone can do this, you can.”
    Paige hung up the phone, trying to believe what Grams had just said—that if anyone could turn Christian into a serious dancer, she could.
    Of course, to do that she was going to have to actually touch him.
    By the time Paige walked back into the main part of the studio, she was surprised to find him sitting against the wall with his head in his hands.
    “Christian?” He looked up, starting to push himself to his feet. She cut that short by moving to sit down beside him. Sitting there like that, he looked so vulnerable. It was such a contrast to the easy strength that he usually possessed.
    “It looks like you were right. I’m no Fred Astaire.”
    “No one is,” Paige pointed out. “And you’ve only been learning for one day.”
    She was willing to bet that just about everything else came easily to Christian, from his success on TV shows to all the things that were connected with that. Fame, fortune, women. She could imagine how hard struggling with learning to dance must be for him.
    “The big entertainment shows are going to be coming in to film us practicing at the end of the week.” The strain in Christian’s voice was crystal clear. “They’ll be only too happy to run with a story about how I’m going to butcher Fred Astaire’s classic role.”
    “Then we just need to work even harder. You’ll get it,” Paige assured him, “and when you do, you’ll wonder why it seemed so hard at first. But it’s going to take lots more focus. From both of us.”
    Almost as if to punctuate their need for focus, the sound of a phone ringing came from Christian’s sports bag, a distinctly un-macho set of tinkling bells. He winced, but this time he finally got up to take the call.
    “Hi. Yes, it’s fine. No, I haven’t forgotten, I promise. Yes, I know you do. Tell them I do, too. I’ll see you all soon.” He turned to Paige. “What time does FedEx close on the island?”
    “Five o’clock, but we’ve still got so much to do.”
    “I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just…wherever I go, I try to send something back to my two nieces when I get there. The tackier, the better, generally. That was my sister, reminding me that I should be spending Christmas with them rather than wandering off preparing for my new role. So I figure I’ve got between now and the time FedEx closes to find something suitably touristy to make up for it. At least it will remind them that I’m thinking of them.” He ran a hand over his face. “I know it probably sounds like I’m making excuses not to practice—”
    “No, it doesn’t sound like that at all. We’ve had a long day, and I know how important family is.” She paused for a moment before deciding to tell him, “After my mother died, my father traveled a lot, almost as if being on Walker Island hurt him too much. But he never wanted us to think that he’d forgotten us, so he would send us things from all around the world. Little things. Shells he’d found on a tropical beach. Pictures of places he’d gone with his students. So I know how important tacky souvenirs can be for children. They show you’re thinking of them even when you’re away.”
    “Thank you for