Page 48 of Take the Lead
A sense of deep and utter calm descended on her. Her muscles relaxed, and her skin took on a soft, fuzzy feeling. Laughter no longer nudged her to smile or look away, and the connection between them stretched and expanded.
Gina had never felt closer to anyone else, ever. They were the same. And there was nothing to be self-conscious or nervous about.
She could trust him.
At that, she dropped her gaze. This was too intimate. Too close. The abruptness of the disconnection stole her breath, and she struggled to reclaim it while appearing at ease.
His hand entered her field of vision.
“Let’s dance,” he said, the deep rumble shaking her to her core.
She nodded, unable to speak, and took his hand. His warm fingers closed around hers, and he led her into the center of the room before taking her in his arms. His hold was perfect, his grip firm, just as she’d taught him. Out of habit, she looked up to meet his eyes. What she saw there scared her.
This wasn’t just about attraction anymore. This was mutual respect and trust. Shelikedhim. She could tell a lot about a person by the way they danced, and everything she learned about Stone, she liked. He was steady and kind, funny and patient, and committed to being here.
Not a word passed between them as he led her into the tango. His eyes never left hers, except when the choreography called for it. This time, he held her even closer than before, but there was nothing disconcerting about it.
It felt so, so right.
He still did odd things with his knees, but the force of theirshared connection exploded within her, making her skin tingle and her breath quicken. When he dragged his hands up her thighs, she imagined how it would feel to be in his arms, in his bed, with nothing between her skin and his hands.
He gripped her around the waist and swung her in circles, her back arched and her hands clasping her own ankles. Then he lifted her as if it were the easiest thing in the world, spinning her like a windmill over his shoulders and bringing her back to earth with barely a bump. He made it look effortless, and she felt supported and safe throughout. People would marvel at the lift, and swoon at the passionate, watery ending.
Gina progressed through the motions of the dance, arching her body over his shoulder, curving her legs around his hip, throwing herself into his arms and letting him drag her across the floor. She pressed her cheek to his, breathing in the light scent of his sweat, and dropped to a split between his legs that ended with her clutching his hard thigh.
The dance would end on the stage with water pouring down on them, soaking them to the skin as he spun her in his arms, their hands grabbing frantically at each other’s bodies until he lifted her and she locked her legs around his waist.
She’d danced the tango countless times, with countless partners. It had never, never been like this.
This was foreplay. Stone was showing her his intensity, what he was capable of, and what he’d do to her—for her, with her—if she let him.
Right then, Gina wanted it more than she wanted her next breath. And it scared the shit out of her.
Nothing was allowed to come between her and her goals. Nothing.
She would never again allow a man to compromise her career. It was why, even at the end of the dance, she had to run away.
Thirteen
The Dance Off’s backstage catacombs were crowded on show night. Pro dancers, celebrities, camera operators, stage managers, PAs, makeup artists, and producers all vied for space in the Sparkle Parlor. The nervous excitement buzzed along Stone’s frayed nerves. Try as he might to block everyone out, it proved impossible.
Lauren trash-talked. Twyla tried to bum a cigarette off everyone who crossed her path and Beto flirted with all the women who crossed his. Farrah and her partner Danny made silly faces for the cameras at every opportunity.
After a week of practicing the Argentine tango with Gina, Stone was so wound up he was ready to jump out of his own skin or punch a hole in a wall. Maybe both. The waiting made it worse. He and Gina weren’t going on until the end of the episode, second to last. It took everything he had to force a grin onto his face when the cameras turned his way.
Gina made it better, though. When he caught glimpses of her across the Sparkle Parlor, just the sight of her soothed him.
Jackson slipped out of the makeup chair and joined Stone against the wall. To their right, Keiko—the model—and her propartner, Joel, were practicing their dance moves. When the couple slipped into the hallway, Jackson elbowed Stone.
“I bet you twenty bucks they’re sneaking off for a quickie.”
“Really?” Stone raised his eyebrows and stuck his head around the corner, but they were already gone.
Jackson laughed. “You have no idea how much hanky-panky is going on behind the scenes here, do you?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.” How could he, when all his thoughts were consumed by Gina?
As connected as he felt to Gina, he had to remember that it wasn’t real. Backstage, everyone acted like they were one big happy family, but at the end, they’d all cash their checks and go their separate ways. This wasn’t his world, and Gina would never fit into his after he left. The eye-gazing? The intimacy? None of that was why he’d come here. Better to just do the dance and look forward to the day he went home.
