“Why do you have clothes on?” he asked.
His question was disorienting. “Because I was cold.”
“If you were cold, you would have put on something that made you warm.” A smile lurked in his eyes. “Not something to tease me.”
My heart stumbled. Where was his lecture about what a mistake he’d made? I rose onto my knees under his heated gaze, intent on meeting his eyes, but he kissed me roughly, and my eyelids fell closed under his power.
How did he do that? He was overwhelming, inescapable—not that I wanted to escape.
Abruptly, he broke the kiss and stepped back, looking affected.
“You need clothes,” he mumbled, retrieving the towel from the floor and banding it around his waist to cover himself. “Ican’t think when you look like that.” His gaze coasted down my legs and worked slowly back up. “And I need a shower.”
I did too, but if I was going to get some practice time in, it made sense to wait on that. “I noticed the dining room has hardwood floors.”
The dryer chimed down the hall while he figured out what I meant. “You want help moving the table?”
He didn’t bother with a shirt, so I didn’t put on pants. The large table wasn’t terribly heavy when we pushed it into the corner. And when it was done, I grabbed my pointe shoes, set them on the table for when I was ready, and began my floor stretches.
I’d expected him to head back to the bedroom, but he lingered oddly. Like he was nervous.
Worry made me pause. “What is it?”
“The dance you did in the restaurant. If you’re going to do that again,” he said, “I wouldn’t mind watching.”
Oh.A grin warmed my face. If only he had a clue how sexy the idea sounded to me. “Take your shower, and I’ll get warmed up.”
I worked my tight muscles, breathing through the stretches and then shaking them out with familiar comfort. The anticipation of dancing for him, in little more than my underwear, was erotic, and I skipped some of the exercises I knew I should do. Would he take a short shower and return right away, or would he go slow, thinking I’d need a good chunk of time to prepare? I couldn’t hear the shower running, and there was no doubt he’d gotten in by now.
Enough with the stretching.
I laced on the pointe shoes and stepped through a bit of choreography, checking to make sure I wouldn’t slip on the floor. Finally, I channeled my nervous anticipation into my moves. I danced the piece from my premiere, and when that wasover, I began the opening steps of my audition piece. I’d already picked out where Jason would sit.
But I was burning through a pair of pointe shoes nearly every week, and these wouldn’t last much longer. It’d be better to wait for him, rather than risk breaking a shank or ripping the stitches on the elastic and ribbons keeping my shoes in place.
The air changed and shifted abruptly, and it made my stomach flip and twist. It caused the fine hairs on my arm to rise with alarm.
I wasn’t alone anymore.
I’d stopped dancing, so now I could hear the steady breathing of someone behind me.
“You’re a beautiful dancer,” said the deep, unfamiliar voice that was colored with a European accent.
27
LAUREL
The temperaturein the room plummeted and stiffened my muscles until I was immobile. He hadn’t used the front door. Maybe the garage? But how had I not heard him come in?
A strangled cry died in my throat. This man had to have a gun, and if I screamed for Jason, he’d get shot coming to save me.
My voice was flat. “Are you going to kill me?”
“For breaking into my house? That seems a little extreme. I was thinking more along the lines of calling the police.”
My whole body shuddered with relief. “Shawn.”
He stood in the living room, just outside the wide doorframe of the dining room, wearing a suit and tie, and there was no doubt he was Jason’s brother. He had a good three inches on Jason, but he was more narrow and less imposing.
