Page 22 of Dance with Me
Dimitri looked up from the small craft services table set up on one side of the room. His face lit with a grin when he saw her. He ambled over to her, his outturned dancer’s walk sexy as hell, his sequined suspenders looking anything but silly on him. They only served to highlight the strong lines of his body, bulkier and taller than most male dancers.
She gave him a warning glance. Donna wasright there.“Hi, Dimitri. Nice to see you.”
“Tasha.” His gaze heated, and he leaned in to kiss her cheek. She was wearing heels, which brought her closer to his height but for a couple inches.
She caught a whiff of his cologne, the spicy green scent giving her flashbacks to the almost-kiss Nik had interrupted. She sucked on her lower lip, and his eyes widened.
“Tease,” he whispered.
Damn it, he was going to get them in trouble, and so was she if she couldn’t get her hormones under control. Natasha took a step back and aimed for a light, impersonal tone. “What are you doing here, Dimitri?”
He shrugged. “Same as you, I suppose. Pop culture piece for some morning show.”
“Weird that they’re doing this in the off-season,” Natasha remarked, turning as a PA came over to hook up their lavalier mics.
Dimitri dropped his voice. “It’s because Gina and Stone have refused to do a lot of promo. People want to book interviews with the winners, but since they can’t, they asked for the next best thing.”
Natasha frowned. “Kevin and Lauren? They came in second place.”
Dimitri laughed and flashed a cocky grin. “Nah. Better than that.” He leaned in and tapped his chest.“Me.”
She rolled her eyes and scoffed, but his nearness and that blasted cologne did things to her. Arousing things. “You’re so full of yourself.”
At that, he only raised a suggestive eyebrow.
Her pulse pounded in her throat. Fuck. Now she was thinking of being filled by him. Her lips parted, but before she could say a word, Donna approached with Vita and—shit, it was Muriel, one of the execs. Bitter Muriel, who was on the lookout for anything resembling fraternization between cast members.
Natasha smiled, taking a step away from Dimitri as she turned to face them. Muriel made introductions and explained the scenario. Dimitri would explain a few basic ballroom dance steps, demonstrate them with Natasha, then teach them to Vita. It sounded simple enough, and Natasha wasn’t expected to speak, just dance.
It would have made more sense for her to teach the woman’s part to Vita, but Dimitri was the draw here, not her.
They began filming, and Natasha filled her role, standing off to the side with a big smile on her face while Dimitri chatted with Vita about the differences between the Argentine tango and Viennese waltz.
“The tango is a very sexy dance,” he drawled, oozing sex appeal for the camera. Even knowing it was an act, Natasha fought the urge to fan herself. Then Dimitri turned to her, fire in his gaze, and held out a hand. “Let’s show how it’s done, Tasha.”
She stepped forward, suppressing a shiver at the thick way he said her name. She was a fucking mess. Lucky for her, these dances were ingrained in her muscle memory, and she could trust Dimitri to lead. She’d be fine.
Except Dimitri seemed to be doing all in his power to make hernotfine. Yes, Argentine tango was a sexy dance to begin with, butcoño.The press of his fingertips was just a little more forceful than the dance called for, his touches lingering a fraction of a second too long. He dipped her, his breath on her neck and his palm on her bare thigh, sliding, teasing, tantalizing . . .
Then she was upright, but she couldn’t catch her breath. Her heartbeat pounded heavily in her veins, and her whole body throbbed.
And then Dimitri turned to Vita and pulled her into the dance like it was nothing.
Natasha struggled to get herself under control while she watched. Dimitri was perfectly respectful with Vita. All the sexiness was in his voice. His touch and posture were impersonal, teacher to student. Vita didn’t seem to notice the difference. She was giggling and blushing by the time Dimitri released her.
And then they had the waltz. Most wouldn’t consider it a sensuous dance, but the way Dimitri did it, it was foreplay.
After it was over, Natasha rushed to the cooler to grab a bottle of cold water. Hot and bothered didn’t even begin to describe the sensations racing through her body. She gulped down water like she was dying of thirst, and when she lowered the bottle, Donna was there.
Natasha jumped, splashing water on her chest. “Jeez, Donna, you scared me.”
Donna’s smile was razor sharp. She raised an eyebrow, then deliberately turned to look at Dimitri, who chatted charmingly with Vita.
Nothing like abject fear to douse the flames of desire. Natasha swallowed hard and wiped at the water on her sequin-covered boobs.
Donna turned back with both eyebrows raised. She searched Natasha’s face for a moment before she spoke, every word deliberate. “Don’t ruin your life, Tash. He’s not worth it.”
“What?” The word came out more like a gasp, and Natasha tried to cover it with a nervous giggle and a shrug. “I mean, he’s hot, yeah. But come on.”
