Chapter Six

“Start with your left foot,” the instructor called, keeping his voice loud to make himself heard over the music. “One, two, three. Back to the neutral position. Pause on four. Good! Five, step back with your right foot. Six, seven. Nice job. Again!”

Alice tapped her feet on the hardwood floors and tried to avoid looking at her own form in the full-length mirrors lining one of the walls. She felt pretty good about the dancing, and was doing as good a job as the rest of the guests who’d joined them at picking up the steps. Several couples lined up next to each other, forming four long, uneven lines of dancers.

She’d dreaded the opportunity, even as her pulse raced at the thought of moving to a fast-tempo song in Noah’s arms. But it seemed that she hadn’t needed to worry, because the first thirty minutes of dance class hadn’t yet involved dancing with a partner. Instead, they’d lined up and worked at learning the steps on their own.

“Step! Two, three,” the instructor said, stomping his foot on the hardwood floors and clapping in time with the music. Alice wavered and lost her balance as she tried to correct her beat. A steady hand grasped her elbow. She gave Noah a thankful smile and tried to ignore the heat that seemed to pulse from his grip into her, up her arm and down to her core.

“Okay, time to dance with your partner.” The instructor gave them all a brilliant smile, as if this was the moment they’d all been waiting for. Then again, by the looks of the other couples, he was probably right. The crowd scattered, chattering excitedly to each other, still filling only a small area of the dance studio, which was large enough to teach a big group.

But Alice’s stomach dropped. She wanted nothing more than to be in Noah’s arms right this second, but she wasn’t entirely sure she could hide her attraction. She spared him a glance, and felt even worse. He looked…well, he looked whatever the opposite of excited was to dance with her.

But when the salsa music started thumping again, he pulled her close to him, his hard biceps gently flexing. His hand settled firmly on the small of her back, its span almost perfectly as wide as her waist. Her breath caught at the suddenly dark look in his eyes and the power he exuded, even in this casual embrace. Weren’t vampires supposed to be cold? Come to think of it, Olivia had never seemed cold to the touch either. And Noah was never cold. Certainly, she’d never noticed him doing something so odd as not breathing. His body against hers, he felt like a normal man. A normal, sexy, well built, Adonis of a man.

His proximity rendered her slightly breathless, but his strong arms kept a small distance between them as they danced to the music. Somehow, the steps seemed easier to follow with him leading the way, even though for the life of her, she couldn’t keep her focus on counting the steps in her head. The music thrummed through her, booming as if coming from her own heart, and she rocked to it. Her feet glided across the wood floor, and for a few moments she felt almost as graceful and sexy as the Latin music demanded.

Then she tripped, on absolutely nothing. Noah pulled her a little closer until she got her balance. Heat rushed to her face. “Sorry, I’m not the best dancer,” she mumbled.

God, he smelled good. Not like cologne, but of something spicy and exotic, with just a touch of sweat. She hadn’t realized vampires sweated. But they did. He’d sweated quite a bit playing volleyball. Olivia had never sweated. But then, Olivia was more of an indoor brainiac, and not much of an athlete.

“You’re doing fine,” Noah said, but he looked over her shoulder at the other couples, avoiding her gaze. She glanced back to see if something had caught his eye, but the wedding guests all danced obliviously, trying—most of them in vain—to find the beat.

They danced a little ways from the crowd, avoiding the occasional elbow to the side or stumbling of the couples around them, but the instructor’s voice was still clear over the festive beat.

The instructor changed the music to a song that sounded almost exactly the same as the one that had played for most of the class, and Noah and Alice fell into silence, listening to the instructor’s words and obeying, but avoiding looking at each other. Annoyance raged through her. He kept her at arm’s length, as if holding her closer was distasteful. Anger replaced her embarrassment. She might not be the best dancer, but she certainly wasn’t that bad.

“Okay change partners!” the instructor called. He pointed at Noah and her, then at the closest couple to them.

“Looks like I’m cutting in,” a smooth, familiar voice said. Dammit. She’d almost forgotten Brent was even in the room dancing with Kristen. Everything around them had faded away with the exception of Noah. Kristen stood to Brent’s side, shifting her weight from foot to foot, looking carefully at the floor.

“I guess,” Alice answered, and Noah narrowed his eyes at her. She gave Noah a meaningful look. A short dance wasn’t worth starting a scene. Brent smiled widely, triumphant. And as Brent tugged her away from Noah, Kristen moved to take her place. Alice fought the flash of jealousy that ran through her at the sight of Kristen in Noah’s arms. Noah was no Brent, and besides, she had no claim on Noah. Who was she to get jealous when other girls danced with Noah?

The music filled the room again, far too cheerful and sexy for her current mood and her current partner.

Brent danced like he did everything in life: with great precision and little passion. She danced just as mechanically, or as woodenly as she could with such a spirited type of dance. The smell of his cologne rolled over her, eliciting an odd swirl of emotions. The scent, familiar and almost comforting, also made her nauseous. Her body warred between taking more of it into her lungs and shoving him away so she never had to smell it again.

“I wanted to apologize to you,” he said as they went through the movements.

She looked up from his shoulder and met his gaze, startled. The number of times he’d apologized and admitted wrongdoing the entire time they’d been together could be counted on one hand.

“I acted like an ass the first night on the boat. And I’ve been a jerk ever since. I—”

“You’re apologizing?” She couldn’t help but gape at him. Brent Strub had just apologized. Someone needed to take a damn picture. Catch it on film. Something.

He winced. “I owe you a lot of apologies, Alice. I realize that. And I came to this wedding intent on doing just that. But when I saw you—and then I saw him—” Brent shook his head. “Well, that’s neither here nor there, is it?” His eyes met hers, and they carried the bit of fervor that had always made her feel like he really cared for her. It wasn’t passion, exactly—she could tell the difference now, after looking into Noah’s stormy blue eyes before he’d kissed her—but it was powerful. “I’m sorry, Alice.”

The music stopped and so did they. She stared at him, her mind refusing to offer her any remotely suitable response. He stared back at her, his expression wistful, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a little sad.

A hard hand gripped her arm above the elbow, not quite painful, but firm. “I’ll be taking my dance partner back now,” Noah said, sounding like he spoke through gritted teeth. He pulled her away before Brent could argue.

He swung her back into his arms and they resumed their dance, the music picking up with them. Her mind whirred at Brent’s words. She’d stopped listening to the instructor long ago, so she and Noah only danced the basic moves, while others in the class had gone on to learn fancier footwork.

Noah still held her at a distance, and something in her snapped. She’d had just about enough of this night. Enough of Brent’s weirdness. Enough of Noah’s cool regard. If he didn’t want to dance with her, why on Earth had he come back for more? Propriety? Ugh.

“Do you think you could make it any more obvious you don’t want to dance with me?” she said, knowing her tone sounded bitchy, but not caring. “I mean, maybe you could stick a chair or something between us so you don’t accidentally touch my repulsive body.”

His gaze met hers and desire, plain as day, flashed in his eyes. There was nothing cold nor distant in his expression. Her stomach flip-flopped and she momentarily stopped breathing. They both stopped dancing, and anger warred with passion to dominate his expression.

“You think I don’t want to touch you?” he whispered angrily.

She glanced around, but they’d salsa-stepped a short distance from the other dancers, who huddled around the instructor so he could easily correct their motions. Brent’s eyes still followed them, even as he swung Kristen around the dance floor, but he was too far away to hear their conversation.

“It sure doesn’t seem like you do.” She shouldn’t challenge him, something instinctual in her gut told her that was a bad idea, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. “What’s the matter, Noah? Afraid you’ll like it too much?”

His lip rose in a snarl, but he yanked her roughly against his hard body, frightening her just a tiny bit. Nervously, she glanced away from him, briefly and accidentally catching Brent’s watchful eye. As if nothing had happened, Noah started the dance again, but his body moved so closely against hers that she could feel him. So tempting. So powerful.

The air left the room, and it was as if they were alone with the thundering beat and Spanish words singing around them. There was nothing but him. His scent draped around her, filling her lungs with spice and a touch of sweat. He smelled like a man should smell. His hand slid down to caress the small of her back. His body directed her every movement.

Heat slid through her and settled at her core. God, she wanted him. Wanted him to slip off her dress, and slide those strong hands down her body. Touch her and make her call out his name. She could feel it. He’d be as commanding in bed. Showing her what he wanted with his body. Reading hers just as easily.

Crap. The music had stopped. When had it stopped? Noah held her close, one hand still on the small of her back, while his other arm encircled her waist, wrapping her in his arms. His face was so close to hers, and he moved down to her neck, burying his face in her hair.