Read The Dance Off for Free Online

sunshine. You couldn’t keep up with me if you tried.”
    “No?” Without warning, he took her by the hand and twirled her out to the ends of his fingers. Years of training kicked in and she went with it, using her weight to hit the end and swing back where he swept her into a dip that left her breathless.
    It wasn’t the most graceful move she’d ever executed, and yet her breath thundered through her body as his dark shadow loomed over her, as his strong arm braced her back, as his striking eyes stared hard and deep into hers.
    Her hands curled against his bare pecs, and for the first time she wondered about Mr Testosterone’s life beyond the hour they spent together Tuesday nights. Did he lift cars for a living? Chop down hardwoods? No, not a bump in that perfect nose, not a single scar on that dauntingly flawless face...
    Then, far more gently than she expected, he eased her back upright until they stood hip to hip, thigh to thigh, in a loose ballroom hold.
    “How was that?” he asked, shifting so that she fitted closer still. Close enough to see flecks of gold in his hazel eyes. Close enough that every breath in was filled with his scent.
    “Needs work.”
    “That’s what I’m paying you for.”
    Well reminded, she pulled away and jabbed the remote until she found something less...Norah. A basic foxtrot, pure muzak, the least sexy sound on the planet.
    “Your posture’s closer,” she said. “Now we’ll work on your feet. Because, my friend, they suck.”
    * * *
    Soon the hour was over. Sweat had added a sheen to Ryder’s skin, a muskiness to his scent.
    “Okay,” she said, running her hands over her damp hair. “Work on your feet this week. Give me something else to pick on next time.”
    As she went to walk to the chaise to gather her stuff his hand clasped her wrist, stopping her. She looked back, hoping he couldn’t feel the sudden flurry of her pulse.
    “I thought it was something in the air, but it’s you, isn’t it?”
    “I’m sorry?”
    “That scent?” He leant into her, his nose brushing the edge of her hair as his eyes closed and he breathed her in. “I caught it last week too. Thought it was coming through the windows.”
    She opened her mouth to say...who knew what. Her throat locked up as her entire body stood stock still, riveted by the sensation of his intense attention, and all that intoxicating male body heat intermingling with her own.
    “What scent might that be?” she finally managed, her words thick, as if she were speaking through a mouthful of marshmallows.
    “It’s spicy yet sweet. Like brandy.”
    She breathed in and figured it out. “Ah, my hairspray. Industrial strength.”
    His eyes moved to her hair, which was in its usual dishevelled array after a day’s worth of dancing.
    “I don’t use it on my hair. Not unless I’m performing.”
    His eyebrows all but disappeared into his hairline. “Then where?”
    “It keeps the leotard from rising.”
    “Rising?”
    “Up,” she said with a swish of her hand towards the offending area. And then she walked away, completely unable to help from looking back to find his eyes had zeroed in on her backside with enough intensity he might as well have been using X-ray vision to see beneath her skirt. And if she added a little extra va va voom to her walk? She was only human.
    She grabbed her lucky black wrap cardigan, criss-crossing the cord around her ribs.
    She turned everything off while her student made himself decent. Pity. It had been fun while it lasted. Heady, hazardous, but worth every agonising second. While it was imperative she keep her hands to herself outside the one hour a week, at least her fantasies now had something to live off for months to come.
    As he had the week before, Ryder waited for her as she locked up, walking behind her as she headed down the rickety old staircase. It was kind of endearing, actually, or it would have been if the feel of him a step behind her didn’t make her knees give out