Not a good idea. More Alejandro would only addict her further to the man. And while she didn’t know him well, she doubted he would settle for a woman whose schedule was as demanding as hers, especially since she spent nearly every day dancing in very suggestive ways with another man. Besides, she’d bet Alejandro would expect a great deal emotionally from the woman he called his—certainly more than she was comfortable giving. He had to see her limitations.

  So why was he still pursuing her?

  As much as she’d like to give into her fears and dismiss Alejandro, what Kristoff said made sense. Maybe the blackmailer had not acted last time because he hadn’t known about the scene. Or been able to be there that night. She and Alejandro had done little to spread the word beforehand. The audience who had witnessed her coming apart in Ali’s arms had largely been there by chance.

  “I agree,” Alejandro said. “I want to catch this bastard. But the choice is Shanna’s.”

  She bit her lip. With the competition in three days, her options were running thin. Throwing away almost twenty years of training, sweating, and suffering to avoid having sex with Alejandro seemed beyond stupid, even if fear screamed that she should run like hell.

  Reluctantly, Shanna nodded. “I’ll be there tonight.”

  Alejandro shook his head. “Tomorrow night. Give me time to suggest that there may be a repeat performance, just in case the scum does not have his ear to the ground, so to speak.”

  Shanna released the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She wanted desperately to be with him. At the same time, she didn’t. It was so unlike her to be indecisive and conflicted. She had to regain balance, get a grip on her control.

  “Fine,” she announced. “I will be there at eight. We’ll commence at eight-thirty. I need to be home by ten.”

  Turning away with a dismissive whirl, she reached for the remote control, intent on starting the music, resuming practice…and ignoring Alejandro before he noticed her trembling and made her completely insane with those hungry stares of his.

  Instead, he grabbed her arm and turned her back to face him. “You will be there at eight-thirty. We will commence at nine. If it takes a whole night of public performances, you will stay until we know who and what we are dealing with.”

  She jerked from his grasp. “Don’t presume to tell me what to do.”

  “Shanna, can you really afford to be impractical and put on your bitch armor with me?”

  No.

  “I know that is not you,” he murmured. “I seek only to help you.”

  Still, she raised her chin, refusing to back down. “Whatever. If it amuses you to play the caveman—”

  “It does not.” He leaned close and whispered for her ears only, “But it intrigues me to see you hide from me and the pleasure you know I am going to give you when I have you naked and under me again.”

  Hours later, Shanna had showered, changed, and run errands. Life was normal…and yet she was still both seething and overheated by Alejandro’s arrogant comments. How could the man manage to irritate and arouse her in a single sentence? For that matter, why did he always incite conflict inside her?

  Argh! She needed to forget him.

  Her doorbell rang. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Probably someone trying to sell her something, maybe Girl Scout cookies. One of the neighbor kids had been selling them yesterday, and the thought of indulging in mindless sugar perked her up.

  Shanna opened the door.

  Someone stood on the other side, all right. It sure wasn’t a Girl Scout.

  “Alejandro.” His name slipped out as a whisper.

  “Good evening, querida.”

  When he murmured that endearment, she melted. Every time. “Don’t call me that.”

  “It bothers you when I call you darling? Why?”

  “I am not your darling. We are working together to solve a common problem.”

  “We are. But I fail to see how that must be the end of it.”

  Shanna opened her mouth to set him straight, but Alejandro cut her off. “Though I am sure you will invent some reason, but for now, let’s not argue. I came to talk.”

  With narrowed eyes, she tried to gauge his sincerity. “Just talk?”

  “Nothing more.”

  She didn’t quite believe him, but he’d roused her curiosity. What could he possibly have to say to her?

  “All right. Come in.” She stepped back to admit him.

  Alejandro shook his head and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Not the club,” she warned him.

  He shook his head. “Not the club.”

  Now she was really curious.

  Sliding into the sandals she kept by the door, she grabbed her purse and keys off the nearby table. “Will it take long?”

  “Hot date tonight?”

  His words mocked her. As if he knew that she could hardly wrap her mind around her interest in him, much less imagine being attracted to anyone else right now.

  “With dreamland, yes. I’m tired.”

  “And I am here to cheer you up.” He held out his hand to her again.

  This time she took it and let herself out the door. “Where are we going?”

  “The nature of a surprise is that you should be surprised.”

  “So you won’t tell me?”

  He shook his head, sending her a dazzling, unrepentant smile as they walked toward the condo complex’s parking lot. “That would spoil it.”

  “You know that annoys me.”

  “I know you are used to being in control and making all the decisions. A little relaxation will be good for you.”

  People had been saying that to her for years. Generally, she ignored them.

  “That’s your opinion.”

  “And you cannot change it.”

  “Okay, but you’re wrong.”

  “How about humoring me, then? Pretend.”

  She rolled her eyes, holding in a smile. He was persistent, if nothing else. “Whatever.”

  Alejandro sliced her a victorious grin but wisely said nothing more.

  When they reached the parking lot, he lifted his key fob and pressed a button. A sleek, black Mercedes convertible, so new it still bore the temporary plates, beeped and flashed its lights a few feet away.

  Business at the club must be very good to afford the old place that housed their business and four-wheeled trinkets like this.

  He assisted her into the car, then rounded the car to the driver’s side, and eased in. “My father was a wealthy man.”

  “What?”

  “I saw the way you looked at my car. I believe you had similar thoughts about the club. I am answering your unspoken question. My father was a wealthy man, and he left me his fortune.”

  “Not your mother?”

  He shrugged and started the car. “I am the only part of him my mother will have anything to do with.”

  “They divorced?”

  “In the Catholic church, no. They separated when I was twelve.” He backed out of the parking space and steered into the gorgeous summer night.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “You cannot like someone you do not know.”

  He wanted her to like him?

  “My father was a philandering bastard, if you wished to know why they split up. I remember my mother’s tears many nights when my father did not come home. They became my tears, too. He acted as if his affairs were both common and acceptable. Perhaps that was so in their generation… Perhaps it was accepted in his native Argentina…”

  Alejandro was sharing something so shockingly private with her. Why?

  “I do not agree,” he stated. “If you speak vows and make a commitment, it should be solid. You should mean those words.”

  “True.” Was he trying to tell her he’d be faithful? Why did he think it mattered to her?

  The fact he felt compelled to give her his opinion known unnerved her. But, being honest, it also thrilled her treacherous soft side. Having a man like Ali in her life full time would be wonderful…but distracting. Indulging was not an option. Their search for this blackmailing bastard and her need to win the California Dance Star consumed her every thought and waking moment. Her commitment was to winning. Romance would only interfere.

  “Take my friendship with Del,” he went on. “Del and I met in college. We quickly became friends—both outcasts to some degree, being foreign-exchange students with somewhat poor English here in Los Angeles. We discovered we shared a lot of similar interests and passions.

  “So after graduation, we decided to put our degrees to work on something mutually satisfying. Del used his marketing degree and social media skills to spread word of the club and promote it all around. I used my finance degree to secure the funding, run the back end, and invest our profits. We operate in the black, and each year is more profitable than the last. But two years ago, I had the opportunity to sell out my half for triple the amount I paid to get in.” He shrugged. “Long ago, I promised Del I would stay in until we were both ready for a change. I declined the opportunity.”

  “That cost you a lot of money, I’m sure.”

  “Losing the friendship would have cost me more.”

  “You can afford to say that; you have your father’s money.”

  “Not so much anymore. I put a fat chunk of it in a trust for my mother. She thinks I set it up with my money. But the bastard owed her more than he could ever repay. I thought this was fitting.”

  Shanna stared at Alejandro as if seeing him for the first time. In a way, she was. It was hard not to like him when he was protecting his mother and defending his friendships.

  A moment later, they stopped in front of a local ice cream shop, quaint and somewhat old-fashioned. In a few hours, after dinner, this place would be crawling with families. But during the dinner hour, it was nearly empty.

  “Ice cream?”

  “I assume you like it.”

  “I haven’t eaten dinner yet. I was planning to cook before you came over…”

  He climbed out of the car and helped her out. “Who needs dinner when there is ice cream?”

  “Who doesn’t need protein and nutrients? Ice cream isn’t a dinner food.”

  Alejandro slipped an arm around her, and Shanna tried not to melt against the tempting heat of his body. Why did he have to be so damn sexy?

  “I will not tell your mother if you won’t,” he teased.

  “My mother died when I was four.”

  She found herself choking out the words. She shouldn’t have opened her mouth; the truth only made her more vulnerable to him. But withholding that fact after he’d confessed all about his past seemed petty.

  “I am sorry.”

  She hung her head. “I don’t remember her. I have this…impression of what her laugh was like. I don’t even know if it’s accurate.”

  He squeezed her against his side as they approached the counter. “So your father raised you?”

  “Along with my brothers. They’re all athletes.”

  “Which is why you are so driven to win.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Second place is nothing more than first loser. It’s the family motto.”

  “Ah, this explains so much about you.” He turned to the teenager behind the counter. “A scoop of chocolate peanut butter and…raspberry amaretto. Shanna?”

  “None for me. I have to fit into my costume—”

  “She will have the same.”

  “I will not!”

  “Then pick your favorite flavors.”

  “You’re going to force me to eat ice cream?”

  “I am going to help you take a moment away from ambition and enjoy life.”

  When was the last time she’d done that? Shanna thought back through the weeks, which became months…and quickly turned into years. The realization stunned her.

  She hesitated, then caved in. It was ice cream, not a commitment. Tomorrow, she had a grueling practice. She’d work the calories off.

  “Chocolate chip cookie dough and French vanilla.”

  Alejandro paid as other teenagers behind the counter assembled their cones. In moments, they wandered to a little table outside and began licking on ice cream as the sun dropped closer to the horizon, with the California breeze stirring all around them.

  After the first taste, Shanna moaned. “This is amazing.”

  He smiled. “I discovered this place a few years ago. It’s part of my weekly ritual.”

  “Where do you put it?” She eyed his hard body, absolutely no stranger to his rippled abs.

  “I make up for it with plenty of cardio and carrots the rest of the week. But life is meant to be lived, no?”

  Had she ever really thought about it in that context? “I suppose so.”

  “You have been a very single-minded woman for many years. Dance has been your focus, your ambition.”

  “And my passion.”

  “No one watching you dance would deny that. You are very talented. You know this, right?”

  She supposed. Yes, she could dance. When she watched footage of competitions, she knew she held her own in a room full of talented dancers. For the past few years, she even believed she began to shine a bit brighter than them because she practiced harder and wanted it more.

  “I’m pleased with my performances.”

  “This ambition, does it make you happy?”

  Happy? An odd question. She didn’t enjoy being frustrated by the champion status she had not achieved yet. But she would be a champion. Once the trophy was in her hands, life would be very sweet, and the sacrifices she’d made along the way would have been worth it.

  All she had to do was get dangerously close to the most tempting man she’d ever met in order to catch her blackmailer.

  His question unsettled her. She’d never thought of her life in a happy/unhappy context. It just was. Of course, questioning her life was too easy to do when she had a man like Alejandro in front of her, reminding her of everything she’d been missing.

  “Why shouldn’t it?” she asked.

  “The way that ice cream cone is dripping and the fact I’ve rarely seen you smile, I suspect you have spent so much time dancing, you are out of practice when it comes to living.”

  Dancing was life for her. So what if she didn’t eat a lot of ice cream? “Why do you care?”

  “Because I am a man who would like to see you happy.” He brushed tender fingertips across her cheek. “What is the worst thing that could happen if you do not win Saturday night? Or ever?”

  Immediately, she rejected the thought. But it was a fair question, one she’d asked herself during long nights when aching muscles, nagging injuries, and loneliness had kept her awake.

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I can’t let that happen. Failure is not an option.”

  “You cannot control what will happen.”

  Yeah, that’s what worried her.

  “So what happens if you never win?”

  She hated to even think the answer. But to speak it seemed unbearably personal. Yet Alejandro had poured out a part of his soul to her. He had not mocked her when she’d spoken of her mother, the rest of the family, or the origins of her ambitions. She had no reason to hide from him…except that he kept slipping behind her emotional barriers, which scared the hell out of her.

  Why couldn’t she put distance between them? Why did she even care about his feelings? Normally, she had no problem with pushing people away, but Ali was…different.

  “I would feel like a failure,” she whispered.

  “You would consider yourself a failure, even after everything you have achieved?”

  “Probably. My family would think I’m a failure. I have one brother who has been the top decathlete in the world. One has played in the Super Bowl. My father has two gold medals. I can’t compete.”

  “Who asked you to?”

  “You’d have to understand my family. For years, my brothers have endlessly tormented me.”

  He shrugged. “The nature of men and their sisters. Their way of showing affection is to harass you. More manly that way.”

  It wasn’t that simple, and she didn’t know how to explain it. “Family aside, I couldn’t give up dancing. I want to win, more than anything.”

  “I would not suggest you give up dance. I merely think you should take the floor to indulge your joy of dance, not to pursue a trophy. The journey is the treasure, not the prize at the end.”

  “Now you’re a philosopher?”

  Alejandro shook his head and placed a soft kiss against her ice-cream cold lips. “Just a man who wants to see you smile. Will you?”

  Shanna looked at Alejandro. He was so comfortable with himself. Somehow wiser than a man who ran a club for sexual indulgences should be. He made everything seem so easy. Even personal discussions, which she usually downright loathed, felt freakishly natural. No pressure. No scolding or telling her how to do things. No taunting her about her failures. Just a steady voice, a tender touch, with lots of insight.

  Lovely…but none of that would put a trophy in her hand.

  Shanna wrapped her fingers around his and smiled. “There. Are you happy?”

  “I have seen more genuine smiles at a beauty pageant.”

  Sighing, Shanna sat back and licked at her cone. “Really, why does it matter to you if I’m happy?”

  Ali paused, seeming to weigh his words. “You matter. I would hate to see you sacrifice everything for something that may never happen. You have given up high school frivolities, friendships, romances…for a hunk of metal and a title.”

  He was right…and wrong. Being a champion was everything to her.

  “This is why I don’t date.” She stood and glared down at him. “I don’t expect you to understand. No one does.”

  He stood and met her glare. “You have ended more than one dance partnership to pursue winning over friendship. What has that gotten you except a bad reputation? Those partners invested in you, cared about you. You cast them aside.”

  “I had to! One was so injured, it was clear he was never coming back.”

  “Might he have tried harder to recover if you had given him both a reason and a partner to return to?”