Page 26 of It Takes Three To Tango

“Is this where we see all the twiddly bits dancers do with their legs? Can I do that?”

“It’sone of the times, yes. But let’s work on not getting our legs in a tangle by just doing this first.”

Constantin appears and sits down at the piano. I shoot him a glance, but his brow is drawn, his face closed, as he looks down at the keys. It’s as if he’s searching for inspiration there. When he starts playing, it’s “Balada para un Loco”—Ballad of a Madman. A curious choice, but he just plays and doesn’t look over at us.

“Shall we go again?” I ask Rafe, who’s been slowly moving in place; something I’ve come to learn is his method of committing the steps to memory.

This time, when we run through the short routine, I don’t let us stop and reset. Instead, we continue round the ballroom a few times. Constantin changes to a different song and we dance it through again.

Juana brings us coffee, so we take a short break, discussing our plans to visit Montjuïc Castle in a couple of days. We even persuaded Constantin to come with us. The coffee seems to have dispelled whatever was on his mind when he came in.

“I smell coffee,” Rafe says when we come together in the middle of the dance floor in theabrazo, the embrace.

“We’ve just had coffee,” I state the obvious.

“This isn’t a dance for having bad breath, is it, being this close?” He chuckles.

“It’s a good job we’re dancing and not kissing then,” I say. He tilts his head to one side slightly, something I’ve seen him do when he’s thinking. It’s cute, and feeling in the moment, I lean a bit closer and whisper, “When I kiss you, I’ll make sure I’ve cleaned my teeth first.”

I don’t give him time to react. I start dancing, leading, so he has to follow. Which he does, foot perfect.

When we stop again, he doesn’t mention it and relieffloods through me. I thought I’d blown it then, mentioning kissing. I don’t want to scare him off, though he doesn’t look scared. If anything, he looks curious. I take it as a positive sign.

“Would you like to learn a couple of, as you say, ‘twiddly bits?’” I ask, and his face lights up.

“What are they really called?”

“Well, there is theboleo, which is a flick either behind or round your leg. These are improvised, but you could try this in thepasada.” I take him through the sequence until we get to the block.

“There. Now flick the free leg back before stepping over.”

He tries it out.

“Bien,”I say for his good first attempt, and he makes a little humming sound that travels straight to my core. Being this close to him is hard enough without him making adorable noises as well.

I was going to teach him theenganche, for him to hook a leg with mine, but I think I’ll pass. I won’t be able to cope with him wrapping his leg round my anything right now. Not if I still want to be able to dance and not launch myself at him and kiss him senseless. Instead, I offer him a variation.

“Then, as you bring your leg back from thepasada, hook it round your own and then step. Remember, these have to be quick so we don’t lose the beat.”

I place my foot in the block again and show him—flick, step over, hook, step back.

“Do you want to try it while dancing?”

“Yes,” he breathes, his eyes so close I can see the golden flecks.

“Constantin, can you play something slow, please?” I call out. A few seconds later, he starts up the “Pequeña.” I love this song; it’s very sensual. Perfect, in fact.

“Are you ready?” I whisper, wanting to make this the perfect dance for Rafe. If I can’t kiss or undress him, this has to be the next best thing.

We move and it’s different this time, less like a lesson and more of the way the tango should be danced. He moves well and adds his flicks in. When we’ve been through the sequence a couple of times, on the third go, I add a couple of my own in, and hear him under his breath speaking so quietly I nearly don’t catch it.

“Wow, that’s really hot.”

Fuck!

“Do you want to improvise a little?” I ask, still whispering, hoping he doesn’t make the little humming sound that resonates in my soul again. I’m already finding it intoxicating being this close to him and dancing so beautifully. Thankfully, he just whispersyesright back.

We start again, and I whisper each movement to him, just before we dance it. Nothing we haven’t done, just stringing them together in a different pattern. He soon loosens up, getting into it, adjusting to being able to pick each movement up from wherever we are. I add in someboleos, and when he feels more confident, he does too.

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