Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
“I have been thinking,” Kristoff says. “Since your first effort to draw out the blackmailer did not succeed, perhaps you should try again.”
“Are you serious?” My jaw drops.
Kristoff nods. “Stage another public scene. The word about you two is out now. People in the community are buzzing. If you give advance warning, I suspect the person responsible will come.”
I consider Kristoff’s words with dread—and excitement. More of Alejandro’s touches, his wild sort of lovemaking… So very tempting. I didn’t merely like what we did together, I basked in it. And I’ve been aching for more since.
Not a good idea. More Alejandro will only addict me further to the man. And while I don’t know him well, I doubt he’ll settle for a woman whose schedule is as demanding as mine, especially since I spend nearly every day dancing in very suggestive ways with another man. Besides, I’ll bet Alejandro would expect a great deal emotionally from the woman he calls his—certainly more than I’m comfortable giving. He has to see my limitations.
So why is he still pursuing me?
As much as I want to give into my fears and dismiss Alejandro, what Kristoff says makes sense. Maybe the blackmailer didn’t act last time because he didn't know about the scene. Or he couldn’t be there that night. Alejandro and I didn’t have much time to spread the word beforehand. The audience who witnessed me coming apart in Alejandro’s arms was there by chance.
“I agree,” Alejandro says. “I want to catch this bastard. But the choice is Shanna’s.”
I bite my lip. With the competition nearly here, my options are running thin. Throwing away almost twenty years of training, sweating, and suffering to avoid having sex with him seems beyond stupid, even if fear screams that I should run like hell.
Reluctantly, I nod. “I’ll be there tonight.”
Alejandro shakes his head. “Tomorrow night. Give me time to suggest that there may be a repeat performance, just in case the scum doesn't have his ear to the ground, so to speak.”
I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I want desperately to be with him. At the same time, I don’t. It’s so unlike me to be indecisive and conflicted. I have to regain balance, get a grip on my control.
“Fine,” I announce. “I’ll turn up around eight. We’ll commence at eight-thirty. I need to be home by ten.”
Turning away with a dismissive whirl, I reach for the remote control, intent on starting the music, resuming practice…and ignoring Alejandro before he notices my trembling and makes me completely insane with his hungry stare.
Instead, he grabs my arm and turns me back to face him. “You’ll turn up at eight-thirty. We’ll commence at nine. If it takes a whole night of public performances, you'll stay until we know who and what we’re dealing with.”
I jerk from his grasp. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Shanna, can you really afford to wear your bitch armor with me?”
No.
“I know that's not you,” he murmurs. “And I only want to help you.”
He's getting uncomfortably close, and I'm feeling so very weak. “Whatever. If it amuses you to play the caveman—”
“It doesn’t.” He leans close and whispers for my ears only, “But it intrigues me to see you hide from the pleasure you know I'm going to give you when I have you naked and under me again.”
15
Hours later, I’ve showered, changed, and run errands. Life is normal…and yet I’m still seething and overheated by Alejandro’s parting shot. How can one man irritate and arouse me in a single sentence?
Argh! I need to forget him.
My doorbell rings, and I scowl. I’m not expecting anyone. It’s probably someone trying to sell me something, maybe Girl Scout cookies. One of the neighbor kids was hocking them yesterday, and the thought of indulging in mindless sugar the minute competition season is over is tempting.
It’s for the kids, I tell myself as I open the door.
Someone stands on the other side, all right. It’s definitely not a Girl Scout.
“Alejandro.” His name slips out as a whisper.
“Good evening, querida.”
When he murmurs that endearment, I melt. Every time. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why does it bother you when I call you darling?”
“Because I’m not your darling. We’re working together to solve a common problem.”
“We are. But I fail to see why that has to be the end of it.” I open my mouth to set him straight, but Alejandro bulldozes on. “I’m sure you'll invent some reason soon, but for now, let’s not argue. I came to talk.”
“Talk?” About what? I'm hoping he has a new clue about the blackmailer, but his face says he’s got something more personal on his mind.
“Nothing more,” he promises.
I’m not sure I believe him, but he’s roused my curiosity…and my libido. But he does that just by being near me.
“All right. Come in.” I step back to admit him.