“Your recent threesome at that club.”

  Kristoff’s polished smile faded. “I was just, um, how do you say, blowing off a little steam. How did you know?”

  “Someone filmed you and sent me the footage. Full color, high quality, great sound. No question it’s you, near a sign that said Sneak Peek.”

  “Filmed me… I had no idea. And someone sent it to you?” he croaked. “You saw it?”

  “Yes, along with a little note informing me that if we show up to the California Star, they’ll distribute the clip to all the judges. And you know what will happen then. We’ll have no chance in hell of winning.”

  He cursed, a popular Angelo-Saxon syllable that started with an F. Shanna shook her head. He’d already done that, thanks so much.

  “I agreed to take you as my partner for two reasons: You’re an amazing dancer, and I thought you were discreetly gay. Gay, the judges can handle. Discreetly gay, even better. Clearly, I was wrong about your orientation. And if the judges see this, your talent will no longer matter to them.”

  Kristoff flushed. “I am, um…equal opportunity when it comes to sex.”

  “I gathered that.” She gritted her teeth. “And it’s fine. I don’t care what you do in your private life as long as it’s private.”

  “One minute!” someone shouted from the hall.

  Squatting, Shanna peered into the mirror at her dressing table, secured a pin holding back a lock of her pale blond hair, then smoothed a hand down the silver sequins of her tiny costume. God, she felt sick to her stomach. All the years of sacrifice and work… If she wanted to win—and she did—she was probably going to have to start over. New season…new partner. Even the thought made her sick. She hoped her tumult didn’t show on her face.

  “We have to go,” she said. “Or we’ll be late.”

  “Stop! We must talk about this. Winning is important to me, too, and—”

  “Champions aren’t late.”

  “It does not matter. This a charity event, not a competition. And your dance card is empty, no?”

  Ouch! Still, she lifted her chin, despite his low blow. “Not the point. People are still watching.”

  “Not everything is work, Shan. Must you be so driven? Enjoy life a little.”

  “I enjoy winning.” Her teeth hurt from grinding them together.

  “Except for dance, you have no life. When did you last go on a date?”

  “Are you keeping track?”

  “I grow tired of your so-serious attitude. Maybe you need to go to Sneak Peek and um, how do you say, let loose like me.”

  “We have the biggest competition of our careers in eight days, and you think I need to get laid?”

  “Yes.”

  Shanna tried not to see red—along with violet, crimson, and magenta.

  Kristoff met her angry gaze squarely. “Until you smile and be nice, you are not fun to dance with. You will certainly make no money for the cause tonight in this mood.”

  It might be uncharitable of her, but it was hard to think about someone else’s cause when her own was falling apart. And the fact that he took no responsibility for putting her in this mood really annoyed her.

  “Go to hell, Mr. Palavin!” She made to stalk past him.

  He grabbed her arm. “You are angry. I fucked up, yes. I am sorry. I know what this means to you. But no matter how much I apologize, no matter that we have become friends in the past year, will you forgive me? Stand by me? By tomorrow, I believe you will be holding auditions because everyone knows any partner who is a liability to your ambition is quickly replaced.” He grabbed the flash drive off the table. “There is a reason your dance card is empty tonight and everyone calls you the Bitch of the Ballroom. In the past, I have defended you, but now… Have a lovely time alone.”

  “Are you staring at that ramera again?”

  Alejandro Diaz ripped his gaze away from Shanna York and sent a rebuking stare to his dance partner. “Mamá, you’ve been listening to gossip. We do not know her well enough to know if she’s a bitch.”

  But he’d looked at her enough to know he wanted her bad. Her soft blond hair shone under the lights like a halo around her face. Those blue, blue eyes projected a little-girl-lost quality that made him want to hold her close and whisper reassurances. But the fiery way she moved her killer body when she danced, like she performed sex to music, made him hard as hell.

  Oh, he had fantasies about her—about taking her to Sneak Peek and melting away all that icy reserve by stripping her down, tying her up, filling her full of his cock…while she wondered if they were being watched. Would she get off knowing that others could see the rise of her pleasure and hear the gasps of her orgasms as he gave them to her, one after the other? The way Shanna danced lured men in, as if she loved having their eyes on her, as if she craved hot stares and knowing they had even hotter fantasies with her at the center.

  How would she feel if she knew he harbored lots of fantasies about her?

  His mother shook her head. “Hmm. You met her once. She was not polite.”

  Not true. She’d been very polite, in an icy, reserved way. In retrospect, he’d come on too strong, been too direct. Clearly not the way to approach an independent woman who valued being in control.

  “Tonight is another night.” He turned his mother around the dance floor in a gentle waltz. And he watched Shanna.

  Her appearance lived up to her ice princess reputation in a short, silvery, barely-there costume of sequins and crystals. She was unsmiling and a bit aloof. He’d love to melt her.

  “There are other single women here. Girls who are good. And Catholic. And yet you focus on the ramera rubia.”

  “Mamá,” Alejandro warned. “You don’t know her personally. Just because she’s blond does not mean she’s a bitch.”

  He sighed. He loved his mother and owed her much. As a single woman, she’d raised him with loving arms and a firm hand, since his father had left them just before Alejandro became a teenager. She hadn’t given him much in the way of luxuries as a kid, but she’d made up for it by providing all the affection and guidance he’d needed. As an adult, however, he realized she was incredibly old-fashioned.

  “Spending too much time at that club of yours has confused your thinking, mijo. Nothing but putas there.”

  Ali laughed. His mother didn’t disapprove of the club…but she only knew about the bar and pool tables, the dart boards and the dance floor. She had no idea what went on upstairs…. Better to keep it that way.

  He made damn good money as Sneak Peek’s co-owner. Between that, his savings, and his other investments, he’d been able to buy his mother a condo and a new car, set up a trust for her, and give her a bit of luxury in the last two years. She just wanted him to settle down, marry, have babies. Mamá had made that very clear.

  He would…in his own good time.

  “Let’s not argue.” He twirled her toward the punch table, not far from where Shanna sat alone. As he looked at the gorgeous dancer again, he had to fight the rise of his erection. Not here, not now…but soon.

  His mother followed the line of his sight. “Dios mío, can you not look at one other woman tonight?”

  No. He’d come tonight specifically to cozy up to Shanna York. What a happy coincidence that making his mother’s night would help him to make his own.

  “Mamá, did you sign up to dance with your favorites tonight?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Alejandro, it is too much money. You paid for me to be here, and that is enough. I will watch.”

  And send a disapproving stare every time he rumbaed Shanna into a dark corner? Not truly enjoy herself? No.

  “You will dance.”

  He stopped her before the punch table and handed her a drink. While she sipped, he eased over to the table that held the dancers’ cards. There were still a few empty slots available to foxtrot or tango with some of her favorites. And Shanna’s card was completely empty. He wrote his mother’s name onto the empty spaces of the male dancers’ cards, then he wrote his own on Shanna’s in every space. With a smile, he called the attendant over.

  After settling dances for his mother, he handed the volunteer, a perky brunette, Shanna’s card. “I would like to purchase all these dances, as well.”

  The brunette looked at it and frowned. “Hers? All of them?”

  “Sí.”

  “That’s three thousand dollars.” She pointed out with a hint of incredulity.

  He handed her his credit card. “Then I will have the pleasure of knowing more children will have full bellies and be attending school, while I dance with a beautiful woman.”

  The woman sent him a look that plainly said she thought he was unhinged. “She isn’t known for keeping her partners long. You may not last the whole night.”

  For what he had in mind, a night was all he needed.

  With a smile, he finished paying, then found his mother.

  “The charity dances start in five minutes, and you will be busy.” He handed her a schedule of her partners.

  “Alejandro! You spend too much money on an old woman. I cannot dance so much.”

  “Mamá, you are barely fifty. It’s only money, and I can afford it. Enjoy yourself.”

  He certainly planned to.

  2

  The event’s emcee announced the beginning of the charity dances, and Shanna poised herself in a chair, plastic smile in place, at the edge of the ballroom floor.

  People around her were beginning to pair up for the first of the dances, names and smiles being exchanged. She tossed her hair off her shoulders. That twisting of her stomach was not a pang of hurt. She didn’t care if no one bid on her dances. Sitting back would give her an opportunity to observe her competition, since most of the other dancers were here…just in case she and Kristoff still had a chance to win, in spite of his indiscreet sex life.

  Tomorrow, she’d get to the bottom of that shocking video. She wasn’t giving up on years of hard work and her dreams of being a champion without a fight.

  “I believe this dance is mine.”

  Shanna followed the deep voice and looked up into an incredibly handsome face. Strong features, burning hazel eyes, heavy five-o’clock shadow, perfectly tailored gray suit with a vavoom red tie. Her heart lurched; this one had sin written all over him.

  He also looked familiar. She stared, hesitating, but the more she thought about it, the more certain she became. Somewhere, somehow, they’d crossed paths before.

  “Have we met?”

  He smiled, all dazzling charm, oozing Latin charisma and hot sex. “Yes. Three months ago. The Bartolino Foundation thing.”

  That night rushed back to her with overwhelming clarity. This sexy man with his killer smile, flirting outrageously and whispering shocking, hot suggestions as he tangoed her around the dance floor. At the end of the night, he’d asked her out…while trying to kiss her. She’d refused every would-be swain for the past two years without a single regret. But he sorely tempted her. The man might as well have the word Distraction tattooed on his forehead. Dating him was impossible. That night, she’d refused him and disappeared into the crowd. She assumed she’d seen the last of him.

  Now she suspected she’d underestimated his resolve.

  “Ah, I think you recall that night.” A smile lifted the edges of his lips.

  “Alejandro, isn’t it?”

  “Alejandro Diaz, yes.”

  Shanna drew in a deep breath. Just like their first meeting, he caused an unwelcome dizzying effect, complete with revving heartbeat. Warning! When she had to bring a date to a social occasion—the only time she went out—she chose safe men who were too busy with their own work to be demanding and too dull to keep her interest for more than an evening. She just didn’t have time for a relationship when she had a dance career that needed all her attention.

  This one might as well shout that he’d be both fascinating and determined. He meant to get his way—and have his way with her.

  Not if she could help it.

  Steeling herself against the impact of his touch, Shanna put her hand in his. No matter how prepared she thought she’d been for the skin-on-skin contact, she’d been wrong. A wild gong of want beat through her the second her palm brushed his. She braced for the rush of heat as she stood.

  “The music is starting. Shall we?” He gestured to the dance floor, then eased her forward with a hand at the small of her back.

  “Sure.” What else could she say? This was his three minutes; he’d paid for them, so she owed him that. But no more.

  God, not a second more.

  A soft Latin rhythm began to wash the room from the overhead speakers. Sensual, hypnotic, the music spoke of a humid summer night shared by lovers. Shanna nearly groaned. Great, a rumba, the dance of love. The one that most emulated passion and sex. Why now?

  On a strong beat, Alejandro grabbed her wrist and pulled her against him. Shanna tried to stop herself from crashing into him by planting a hand on his chest. But her fingers only encountered hard muscle. He was like a rock under that shirt, and given his mile-wide shoulders, she was suddenly sure that seeing him naked would be ten times better than a slice of her favorite sinful chocolate cake.

  He hooked a finger under her chin. Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze to his. The heat in those hazel eyes could melt steel. Look away. Get away! But she couldn’t. Once her gaze connected with his, she was locked in, fused to him in a way she didn’t understand.

  That stare sizzled all through her…and settled right between her legs. She felt unable to break his gaze.

  Sex had always been something she could take or leave. At the moment, she wanted to take anything he was willing to dish out.

  How could he do that to her with just a glance?

  As she drew in a deep breath and tried to find her wits, he curled a thick arm around her waist, drawing her even closer. His whole body was hard…every inch of it. From the feel of him, many inches. Shanna trembled to realize he was every bit as interested as she was. Thank god these dances were short.

  Then he held out his left hand, palm up. Slowly, she placed her hand in his.

  They began to dance. He was incredibly smooth, never dancing on his heels, never losing the beat of the music. Wow, could he move his hips. Perfect figure eights with them. No doubt, he’d learned how to dance very well somewhere along the way.

  Basic boxes quickly gave way to an open position, then a cross, which he used as an opportunity to brush his body against hers and caress her hip. An underarm turn led her right back to a basic.

  He was good for an amateur. She had an inkling that he might be good at other things, too.

  “So, what brings you here tonight?” she asked, grasping at conversational straws. Maybe if she was talking, she wouldn’t be thinking about how much this guy turned her on.

  “Helping orphans is not a worthwhile cause?”

  “It is. Most men would rather simply write a check than ballroom dance.”

  “I brought my mother. She enjoys these things, and it is a very small thing to do in order to see her smile.”

  Sexy, a good dancer, family-oriented, crazy handsome—Alejandro seemed like every woman’s fantasy and way too good to be true. He must have some terrible flaw she just couldn’t see at the moment. If not…she was in a heap of trouble.

  Her body temperature was rising with every suggestive look, every sweep of his hand over her waist and low dive on her hip, each brush of his palm that inched toward her ass.

  Damn! Why hadn’t she found some man to scratch her itch in the last two years? Or even invested in a good vibrator? Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t feel wound so tightly right now, so ready to jump on Alejandro and every protruding part of his body.

  “That’s nice of you,” she managed to say.

  “Not really. I knew you would be here.”

  “M-me?”

  “Hmm.” He led her into another open position, then curled her against his body, hips crushed against hips. She felt way more than his pelvis.

  “Certainly you can feel my…enthusiasm to see you again.” He laughed, seemingly at himself.

  Yeah. His enthusiasm was sizeable and very hard to miss.

  Then he leaned her back over his arm in an exaggerated dip and followed her down. Until his face was an inch from her breasts. Shanna felt him exhale, his warm breath caressed her cleavage. Her nipples beaded instantly.

  Slowly, he lifted her upright again, then spun her around until her back rested against his chest. He nestled his erection in the small of her back. The flat of his palm covered her abdomen, and he took her other hand in his. The gesture probably looked possessive. It certainly felt that way.

  Straight ahead, she saw Kristoff dancing with a thin, middle-aged woman with hair a dubious shade of red. He peered at her with a questioning brow raised.

  Alejandro led her to swivel her hips against his, in time with the music. Kristoff didn’t miss a second of it. In fact, as Shanna looked around, she realized they’d gathered quite a bit of attention.

  A blast of moisture flooded her sex.

  “Everyone is watching,” he whispered.

  “I see that.” Her voice shook.

  He bent and lifted her leg, wrapping her calf around his thigh and urging her head to fall back to his shoulder. Their eyes met, their mouths inches apart.

  Shanna felt stripped down, as if she was naked under Alejandro’s knowing gaze. God, if he didn’t stop that, she’d melt against him right here, right now.

  “Men are watching you, wanting you.”

  He grabbed her thigh, spun her around to face him, then placed that thigh over his hip. They rested nearly hip to hip again. As he leaned back slightly, he forced her chest against his. Still, she couldn’t break his stare.

  “And you like it,” he whispered.

  She opened her mouth to deny it, but Alejandro’s gaze stopped her, warning her before she could do anything foolish, like lie.

  “I can tell you do.”

  The intensity of his stare, the way in which he’d dug past her icy defenses, seemed to see the real her, and guessed her dirty secret… He was a walking wet dream. He was her worst nightmare.