Page 73 of The Virgin's Dance
José and Maria hadn’t even been consulted on that before the invitations had been sent.
It was putting pressure on the normally happy couple, and Donna could definitely empathize with their frustration.
José, mid-argument, looked worn down. “You want to go for a walk, Donna?”
The question felt more like a plea, so Donna dutifully followed him outside.
It took quite a bit of time to calm José down, and it was somewhat like old times again, just the two of them.
The whole episode, though, had Donna feeling a little guilty. She had been going to dance lessons every other day, and she knew she’d been distant even when she was around, her mind off wandering somewhere else.
She had become so engaged in learning flamenco and with her growing passion for Antonio that she wondered how she’d ever arrived in Spain ready to declare some undying teenage crush for José.
She had been attending lessons for a couple weeks, and despite her teacher’s apparent bitter irritation at her every step, she enjoyed the dance.
She practiced hard every day, only blowing off extra practice now and again to spend the day with Maria and José, either on the beach or rambling around the countryside.
She’d gotten used to Antonio’s new manner quickly. He acted as if she was a bomb that might go off at the slightest touch, and he avoided contact at every turn.
However impersonal he acted, however impenetrable his manner with her, she could also see that the dancer in him was intrigued and wanted to help her get better.
Despite his best intentions, his instincts would kick in and he’d work her hard enough to see just how good this little American girl could get. He begrudgingly told her that hadn’t had a student this naturally talented before.
She had stopped looking at him with those big, questioning eyes, and they had settled into a comfortable coolness. They had developed a kind of sardonic rapport, allowing humor to sweeten the bitterness that now yawned between them.
However much he chided and scolded, she continued coming to the lessons he taught every day.
Outside of class, she thought of him constantly. Despite herself, her dreams were full of hot longing, imagining him as he had been the first night she’d met him. But in the class, she was as cool as a cucumber.
One morning he was teaching a lesson on the style of Braceo. It was a difficult style because it required the dancer to move their arms continuously into the next step.
Donna had almost gotten it. While her classmates were still struggling miserably, she was almost there, but not quite.
Antonio, frustrated, began speaking to her in English for once, ignoring the other girls who were floundering about like trees in an elementary school play.
“No, Donna, just a little further forward—no, not like that. Come on …”
“I’m trying! I don’t understand what you want me to do,” she said, defending herself against his frustration.
“Oh Dios …” Antonio grumbled one last time.
Against his better judgment, he walked up behind Donna and grabbed her arms tightly. He’d done a good job of convincing himself that the connection he’d felt with her that first night was just a fluke, but his body’s intense reaction to finally touching her again proved that he’d been kidding himself. Lust ignited inside him.
He grew hard as they touched and he involuntarily breathed in the scent of her lovely bare neck. She responded to his touch in a way that was hard to misinterpret as well, her nipples pebbling against her shirt. He held her arms in place for just a second too long.
After weeks of carefully building up a cool veneer, it had finally shattered. Antonio’s cheeks flared red as he finally tore his eyes away from her.
The class continued as if nothing had happened, the other girls completely oblivious to what had just occurred.
The class was unusually packed with students, but Antonio was paying closer attention to Donna, acting a little different. He was harder on her than he had ever been.
“Head up, Donna.” It was one of his favored directions, one of many. And when his shouted commands didn’t prove satisfactory, he started twisting her arm into positions roughly, lifting her chin with his hands, and clapping out the rhythms with a great force.
He touched and prodded her more than he had ever done before, until Donna became a little embarrassed to be manhandled like that in front of the other girls.
After a grueling lesson the class was dismissed and the students began to get dressed and leave. Donna had already taken off her dance shoes when she heard him call her name.
“Donna, you stay behind, please.”
