with peace she never found anywhere but in dance.
It was the reason she’d taken it up in the first place—a lonely five-year-old waiting on the front steps of the school for the umpteenth time, waiting for parents who either forgot her or didn’t care or had more important things to do.
The school music teacher had found her that day, taken her into the hall to wait, and as she’d watched a group of girls shimmy their way between tap and jazz and ballet she’d been entranced.
When her mum had eventually turned up, an hour later, she’d begged to join the group, and Gladys had been only too happy to foist her off for another hour a day.
She’d loved the music, loved the graceful movement, loved the clothes. And for the first time in her life she’d belonged.
Though it had been more than that; for those all too brief hours at dance class she’d felt secure, and no matter how many cities her folks had dragged her to,how many schools she’d attended, she’d always felt safest when dancing.
Warm-up done, the next song on her playlist kicked in—her favourite R&B singer, who never failed to make her feel soulful and sexy.
She allowed the beat to take her, feet moving in time, shoulders loose, eyes closed, and in that moment she released all the frustration of the last few weeks: Sergio, Sydney, Callum…
Callum most of all. For being so damn responsible, too darn gorgeous, and way too work-oriented for his own good.
He needed to lighten up, to have a little fun. He’d been so buttoned-up this morning, so stern, so foreboding.
What would it take to get through to a guy like him? To break down the barriers he’d erected?
The music picked up tempo, and as she swung into a few jazz moves, comforted by the familiarity of doing what she did best, she knew getting the sexy CEO to relax was high on her agenda.
He shouldn’t be doing this.
Watching her.
But Callum couldn’t resist the lure of seeing Starr move and sway and gyrate to a beat only she could hear.
He watched her spin with perfect precision, glide and leap across the floor like a gazelle, wiggle her butt and gyrate her hips until all the blood from his head drained south.
Oblivious to her audience, she high-kicked and hip-hopped and stomped her way across the ballroom before slowing, her frantic whirlwind of movement becoming softer, more erotic.
Breathtaking.
His lungs seized with the effort of not dragging in great gulps of air to ease the tightness in his chest. He was scared of breaking the spell.
Crazy, as she couldn’t hear him with the iPod earphones, but there was something so fragile about this moment, something so special, that he didn’t want to risk it.
This was akin to spying on her private time, but he was drawn to her no matter how much he wanted to keep his distance.
Her feet picked up tempo and she raised her arms, her workout top pulling taut across her breasts and revealing a tantalising sliver of belly.
His groin ached, and he clamped down on the urge to march in there, haul her into his arms and dance body to body until they were slick with sweat, hot and frantic, desperate for each other.
He backed away, needing to escape before he did something irreversible.
Her eyes snapped open at that instant, fixed on the door, and she stumbled mid-step, her arms falling to her sides as she yanked out the earphones.
‘Did you want me for something?’
Hell, yes.
He wanted her in his bed, in his shower, in hisJacuzzi, in every damn room of his house, over and over and over again.
The memory of her body, her kisses, her caresses, were burned into the hard drive of his brain, no matter how many times he hit the delete key.
‘No, keep going. Sorry to interrupt.’
‘It’s okay.’
They stood there, a yawning expanse of polished parquetry separating them, their wary reflections staring back at them from Viennese mirrors, neither making a move.
He never lost control, never lost sight of his responsibilities, but at
It was the reason she’d taken it up in the first place—a lonely five-year-old waiting on the front steps of the school for the umpteenth time, waiting for parents who either forgot her or didn’t care or had more important things to do.
The school music teacher had found her that day, taken her into the hall to wait, and as she’d watched a group of girls shimmy their way between tap and jazz and ballet she’d been entranced.
When her mum had eventually turned up, an hour later, she’d begged to join the group, and Gladys had been only too happy to foist her off for another hour a day.
She’d loved the music, loved the graceful movement, loved the clothes. And for the first time in her life she’d belonged.
Though it had been more than that; for those all too brief hours at dance class she’d felt secure, and no matter how many cities her folks had dragged her to,how many schools she’d attended, she’d always felt safest when dancing.
Warm-up done, the next song on her playlist kicked in—her favourite R&B singer, who never failed to make her feel soulful and sexy.
She allowed the beat to take her, feet moving in time, shoulders loose, eyes closed, and in that moment she released all the frustration of the last few weeks: Sergio, Sydney, Callum…
Callum most of all. For being so damn responsible, too darn gorgeous, and way too work-oriented for his own good.
He needed to lighten up, to have a little fun. He’d been so buttoned-up this morning, so stern, so foreboding.
What would it take to get through to a guy like him? To break down the barriers he’d erected?
The music picked up tempo, and as she swung into a few jazz moves, comforted by the familiarity of doing what she did best, she knew getting the sexy CEO to relax was high on her agenda.
He shouldn’t be doing this.
Watching her.
But Callum couldn’t resist the lure of seeing Starr move and sway and gyrate to a beat only she could hear.
He watched her spin with perfect precision, glide and leap across the floor like a gazelle, wiggle her butt and gyrate her hips until all the blood from his head drained south.
Oblivious to her audience, she high-kicked and hip-hopped and stomped her way across the ballroom before slowing, her frantic whirlwind of movement becoming softer, more erotic.
Breathtaking.
His lungs seized with the effort of not dragging in great gulps of air to ease the tightness in his chest. He was scared of breaking the spell.
Crazy, as she couldn’t hear him with the iPod earphones, but there was something so fragile about this moment, something so special, that he didn’t want to risk it.
This was akin to spying on her private time, but he was drawn to her no matter how much he wanted to keep his distance.
Her feet picked up tempo and she raised her arms, her workout top pulling taut across her breasts and revealing a tantalising sliver of belly.
His groin ached, and he clamped down on the urge to march in there, haul her into his arms and dance body to body until they were slick with sweat, hot and frantic, desperate for each other.
He backed away, needing to escape before he did something irreversible.
Her eyes snapped open at that instant, fixed on the door, and she stumbled mid-step, her arms falling to her sides as she yanked out the earphones.
‘Did you want me for something?’
Hell, yes.
He wanted her in his bed, in his shower, in hisJacuzzi, in every damn room of his house, over and over and over again.
The memory of her body, her kisses, her caresses, were burned into the hard drive of his brain, no matter how many times he hit the delete key.
‘No, keep going. Sorry to interrupt.’
‘It’s okay.’
They stood there, a yawning expanse of polished parquetry separating them, their wary reflections staring back at them from Viennese mirrors, neither making a move.
He never lost control, never lost sight of his responsibilities, but at
Similar Books
