Page 19 of Forbidden Dance
I tap into that person, the Livia of four years ago. Young as I was, I knew what I wanted then. I took it, same as he had. I was headstrong, bold, none of this shyness. No fear.
My circles match his and we walk in tandem, apart, but following the same rhythm. When the music rises, he reaches for me, arm outstretched.
I accept his hand, and within a heartbeat, he has whirled me into him.
This time, our positions feel natural, and our bodies come together without distance from the first try.
“This is trickier,” he says. “But just a little. Lean into me. Shift into a close embrace.”
My hand goes around his back, and his arm fits against me much more tightly. I can feel his breath on my hair.
“First we walk slowly together,” he says.
We take the steps, me backward, him forward.
“Then to the side like the waltz,” he says.
We accomplish that. “Now you must take two steps back, then one foot across the other, then back to the side.”
My mind jumbles at all of that, and I have no idea what he means by across, and I trip on his feet. He catches me easily.
I laugh shakily. “Not so quick on this one,” I say.
“It’s a trickier step,” he reminds me.
He slides me behind him. “We’ll do your step together.”
I pause and look down at his feet.
“Two steps, the cross, then step and slide.” His feet glide effortlessly across the floor.
But I see it now. I do it a couple of times alone.
“Now you have it,” he says. We return to the tango embrace. “Let’s walk a bit first.”
The steps are slow and deliberate, one step to the beat. I can’t relax yet, concentrating, and I sense when we shift to the side.
“Now the new steps,” he says.
I go back, step across, and back into the slide. Then we’re just walking again.
“Perfect!” he says.
We continue this basic step until the end of the song, but it doesn’t feel like the waltz did. It’s tricky and I have to concentrate. I don’t love it as much. I’ve probably failed his sexy dance test.
Blitz releases me and heads back to the stereo.
“Can we waltz one more time?” I ask. “I don’t want to forget it.”
“Of course,” he says. “You have more time today, I see. And it isn’t Friday.”
My face heats up again, remembering how I chickened out yesterday. He knows why I’m here. Maybe I’ll get that kiss yet.
Except, the windows.
“I do,” I say. “We could try the storage room again.”
He stops what he’s doing and turns around. The wolfish look is gone, and he’s back to Benjamin, the sweet charmer. “You sure about that?”
