Page 78 of Dance with Me
“Were you dating that guy? What was his name again?”
She sighed and looked out the window as he drove. “Rocky Lim.”
“He’s in those car race action movies, right? Martial artist?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he now?”
“London.” She let out an exasperated sigh and glared at him from the passenger seat. “Why are you asking about Rocky?”
“I’m curious about people you’ve dated.”
She snorted and turned away. “Rocky and I weren’t dating, no more than Jackson and I were dating.”
“And like how we weren’t dating.”
She didn’t answer.
“This is a date, Tasha.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Does that mean we’re dating?”
“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”
She snorted again. “No. Besides, it’s against the rules.”
“We’re way past your rule,Kroshka.”
“Notmyrule.The Dance Off’s. No backstage fraternizing. We can’t date. It’s the only defense I have for living with you—and why we can’t . . . we just can’t.”
He drove in silence. He’d forgotten about that stupid rule. He was a judge, so it didn’t quite apply to him, but only because he was more famous than any of the pro dancers. He wouldn’t be the one to be penalized. She’d take all the blame and the consequences. Their relationship had the potential to ruin her career.
He wanted to give her everything. But he couldn’t give her a career, especially when his own felt so unsteady.
He had to find a way around everything, because he had every intention of breaking both rules—dating and fraternizing.
He had to make this the perfect date, to show her what they could have if she allowed it.
In the parking lot, Raul’s eyes nearly fell out of his head when Natasha climbed out of the car. Even in the boot, she was a stunning woman. She’d complained about the dress, lamenting the loss of her wardrobe and inability to shop for something new, but the tight black fabric showed of her long, lean curves, and honestly, the woman would make a garbage bag look like high fashion. She’d done her hair in sexy, tousled waves. Her eyes looked dark and mysterious, and her lips were a bright, slick red.
She was just as beautiful in pajamas, smiling sleepily at him over a cup of café con leche.
Krasavitsastayed open late on the weekends, and was a celebrity favorite. When Dimitri walked in the door with his arm slung around Natasha’s waist, every eye turned their way.
Well, noteveryeye. The eyes belonging to the staff. He caught the bartenders exchanging grins, and one of the waitresses actually stopped in her tracks and bounced on her toes.
Lord. Why had he hired a bunch of sentimental fools?
Carlito, his manager, bustled over to them. He took Natasha’s hand and beamed at her.“Señorita, encantado.”
Dimitri bit back a sigh. “Natasha, this is Carlito, the manager. He keeps this place in order and knows all the gossip.”
“Es mi placer,Carlito,” she replied, smiling back at him.
Carlito led them to the table that was always kept empty in case Dimitri dropped by, chattering with Natasha in Spanish the whole time.
When Natasha drew back a step and raised her eyebrows, Dimitri tuned in.
