Free The Dance Off by Ally Blake

used to being in charge out there in those suits of yours, but in this room I’m the boss. Can you handle that?”
    “I thought the man was supposed to lead.”
    “Only if he knows what the hell he’s doing. Until then, it’s my job to make sure you don’t injure yourself.”
    “Somehow I get the feeling you’d like that very much.”
    “And there I was thinking how good I’d been at keeping my feelings to myself.”
    The words dried up as the two of them stared one another down, breaths coming hard and heavy, awareness licking between them.
    A dark eyebrow kicked up Ryder’s forehead. “Fastest way to a stomach ulcer.”
    His retort was so unexpected; Nadia coughed out a laugh. Then laughed some more. Laughed, a little hysterically actually, till she had to bend over and clutch her side. But, thankfully, a measure of the tension that had been coiling her in knots all week scattered along with it.
    When she caught her breath she looked the guy dead in the eye. “Then this is how I see myself avoiding one.” She counted off her fingers. “No more Hollywood dips. No more flirting. No more pressing one another’s buttons. And definitely no more kissing.”
    “I liked the kissing,” he said, false contrition glinting in his gorgeous hazel eyes.
    Yeah , she thought. I hear that.
    Hands on hips, Nadia blew a wave of hair from her forehead. “Ever wish Sam hadn’t decided on dance lessons?”
    “Every damn day.”
    “Well, at least we’re in step there.” She checked the clock. Fifty minutes still to fill. “Speaking of Sam, she picked the song she wants the two of you to dance to. I think now’s as good a time as any to hear it.”
    “Can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”
    A smile kicked at the corner of her mouth as she found the whimsical Norah Jones song Sam had chosen and pressed play.
    Ryder’s brow furrowed, before he nodded once. “I can handle that.”
    “Can you handle some choreography to go with it?”
    Beneath his deep tan, the man paled.
    “No pirouettes, I promise. Only one overhead lift, right at the end. It’s tricky, but if you think you’re not man enough to pull it off...”
    His colour was back, and with it came a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
    “You think I’m joking?” she asked.
    “I think you have a sadistic streak. Makes me wonder why.”
    He said it as if it was a good thing, which sent utterly masochistic curls of pleasure straight to Nadia’s belly. “I’m not a nice person.”
    “Nah, it’s something else,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth and staying there. “You’re plenty nice.”
    “While you don’t play fair.”
    “Where’s the fun in that?” When his eyes lifted back to hers they were lit with laughter. And heat. And promise. And absolute resolution. Despite her pleas he had no intention of backing down.
    She looked at the impossible man before her in consternation. “You’re really ready for this?”
    “Raring.”
    You better be, she thought.
    For the next half-hour she clapped out the counts as her old ballet teacher used to, till the shouts of her commands— knees straight! shoulders back!— echoed off the walls.
    And soon they were both sweating. Not glowing, not perspiring, but dripping wet. While Sam’s song trickled through the room like water over stones in a brook, looming rolls of thunder in the distance brought with them an oppressive heat the industrial fans above merely seemed to push about the room.
    But Nadia didn’t let up. Especially when Ryder actually seemed to respond. The man was tall and broad, which could make for a Frankenstein approach to dancing, but he had natural grace when he stopped trying to cage his instincts and just let go.
    Nadia eased herself into Ryder’s frame, adjusting only slightly, using her body to urge him where he needed to go. And this time, as one, their feet began to move. Slowly, gently, no push or pull, just the music pulsing through the floorboards and rocking them to and