Page 14 of It Takes Three To Tango

Instead, I force myself to remember that he’s just been through a breakup. There’s also the small detail that he’s straight, of course, but that doesn’t make me want to kiss him less. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. Usually, my hookups are brief and for fun. An unspoken agreement that it’s fleeting.

But I’m a long way from home and Rafe isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met before. I don’t want a hookup, I don’t want to treat him that way. I push the desire down deep inside because it’s never going to happen. I’ve just confessed as much.

The sound of a piano drifts through the air from the room behind us. It must be Constantin playing the grand in the ballroom. Rafe’s face brightens at the sound of it, and he turns towards me, his eyes alight.

I swallow down the increased need to cup a hand to his cheek and touch my lips to his. Wow, that sounds a lot like romance. The thought that I could feel that way nearly bubbles up, but allowing it to erupt would spoil the moment. I can’t kiss him, so instead I ask.

“Would you like to dance?”

His mouth twitches slightly, no doubt remembering the previous time I asked him the same question.

“I don’t know how.” His voice is a husky whisper that sends shivers down my spine.

“I can teach you.”

I follow Florencio into the ballroom. I’d thought it a lofty name for a room, but now I see why. It’s a large rectangular room with high ceilings. Several doors open out onto the terrace that runs the length of the house. The wooden floor is beautiful, inlaid with different types of wood to form patterns, and the upkeep of that alone must be a full-time job. Couches from another era, a more decadent one, sit at intervals along the wall opposite the terrace. At one end, Constantin is seated at a grand piano playing a beautiful tune. Estrella is on a nearby couch while Juana is placing coffee cups on a table.

Just for a moment, I can imagine another time when this room might have been filled with people, the high society of Barcelona, all in their finest clothes. Estrella moving among them as the glamorous host, encouraging them to dance, to drink and have fun. Couples breaking out to take a rest on the terrace, standing under the moonlight, gazing at the city or each other.

The vision fades and I become all too aware of Florencio as he steps closer to me. A nervous flush creeps up my skin, making me feel both hot and cold at the same time. I wipe my hands down my thighs in a vain effort to dispel the clammy feeling. My heart beats a staccato rhythm on my ribs.It’s just a dance. I push the thought through my head. Except I can’t dance. I have no clue what to do. Florencio is going to despair at how bad I’m going to be. It shouldn’t matter what Florencio thinks, but for some inexplicable reason, it does. I catch a trace of a scent. It’s both floral and darkly indulgent, like a forbidden flower drifting on a hot desert wind. I breathe it in, using it to anchor myself to the now and not let myself catastrophise about what will happen next.

“Are you all right?” Florencio’s close whisper brings me sharply out of my head.

“Err, yes. Sorry.” I’m not all right, but I don’t want to admit it. “I just want to warn you that I have no idea what I’m doing, so I might step on your toes.”

“Just relax.” His smile is soft. “This is my job. I’ve seen it all. But everyone can dance, trust me.”

He moves so he’s standing next to me.

“Shouldn’t we be, um, facing each other or something?” I mumble, confused. I’ve seen people dance the tango, they definitely aren’t side by side. They’re close, very close, and it’s this part that has me jittery. I’ve never really been that close to another guy. I don’t come from a family of huggers either. Constantin’s hands on my arms while we were outside was the most physical contact I’ve had with a guy for, well, as long as I can remember. But that didn’t make me feel like my skin was charged with electricity. It was soothing and calming, and I didn’t even think about it, it just was. Huh, even that acceptance makes me wonder.

“I want to teach you the basic steps by your side first.” Again, Florencio breaks my train of spiralling thoughts, and Ibreathe deeply, reaching for that heady, warm scent. I focus on what he’s saying. “Then, once you’ve mastered the basic steps, we can try it together.” I risk a glance at him, and I can see that he looks relaxed, easy with himself, a professional. Of course he is. I know he’s a dance teacher. I’m reading far too much into this and acting like a real jerk. If he can put the effort into teaching me, the least I can do is listen and learn.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I say, because this time I am.

“Step forward with your left foot, then step to the right. Step backwards with your left foot, backwards with your right.” He pauses. “With me so far?”

“I think so.” I nod. It seems easy so far, but many more steps, and I might not remember.

“Good, now cross your left foot over your right and shift the weight to your left. Step back with your right foot and then step to the left. And that’s it.”

“That’s it?” That surely can’t be it.

“Well, those are the basic eight steps. Once you can do that without thinking, we can add more. Shall we try again?”

He takes me through the pattern a few more times, at least until I no longer have to look at my feet. Then he turns to face me.

“We’ll do it again, but I’m going to be here this time,” he says, but doesn’t make any move to come closer.

“Aren’t we supposed to be touching?” I blurt out and the corners of his mouth twitch.

“All in good time. This way, you can get an idea of where I’ll be, but I’m less likely to get my toes trodden on.” He delivers the last with a grin. That’s fair, I suppose. So we run through it again, this time with him mirroring my movements, or rather, me mirroring his as he’s leading. After going through it a few more times, I start to relax, a bit more confident in where my feet are going.

“You’re doing well,” Florencio says as we come to the endof the steps and he calls for a halt. “I find that the longer you take to really learn the basics, so they become second nature, the quicker you’ll progress with some of the other steps. There is no point learning the fancy parts if you’re still thinking through counting to eight in your head.”

“I think I’ve got the idea,” I reply, but I don’t think there was any need. He’d known when I was ready. It’s then that I appreciate how good a teacher Florencio really is, because up until the last couple of times, I had been counting the steps in my mind.

“Are you ready to try together?” he asks and I nod. I think that after seeing the state I was in, he'd given me time to not only learn the steps but also to get comfortable being close to him, so this time when he steps close, I don't jump out of my skin at his touch.

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