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Authors: Ann Mayburn

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Carmella watched herself in the mirror. Light filled her eyes, and her chest rose and fell as her breathing accelerated. The hard tips of her nipples stuck out through the thin cotton of her shirt, and her pulse visibly throbbed in her throat. Her imagination took over, and she could see Sean spinning this music, could feel him in the echo of the base through her bones.

The raw emotion and need she saw in her face was too much for her. Closing her eyes, she let the music take her. It filled her limbs, made them light as air and full of energy. A deep throb settled itself into her hips, grounding her feet with its strength.

Lifting her arms in front of her, she began to dance with a careful flexing of the fingers, flowing in a wave down her arms. Isolating her chest, she gave a pop of movement, rolling it down her stomach in a controlled undulation of muscle to her hips. Briefly, she wished she was wearing a belled scarf to chime around her hips, but the music took hold of her again.

Eyes closed, one with the beat, she let it lead her in the dance. Faster bass now, a fixed shimmy with her hips, shifting her weight to her back as she rolled her lower body in a tight figure eight. Cleansing, purifying, the music moved her across the room, her arms arching and a sweat breaking out over her skin.

In her mind, she danced for Sean. Enticing him with the flash of her hair, seducing him with the arch of her back. Each move and breath done to show him what she had to offer, what could be his if he had the courage to approach her.

The song began to wind down, the bass backing off, the woman's voice left on its own. She followed the simple melody, isolating her stomach muscles as she shimmied her chest. For a moment, she enjoyed the breath panting out of her body, the buzz of her muscles, and the endorphin rush.

Clapping broke the silence, and her eyes flew open in shock. Reflected in the mirror was Sean and his crew manager, both smiling and clapping. She stared at them with an embarrassed blush blending in with the flush of her cheeks. Her mortification once again turned her into an insecure mess. Emotions fought within her, the darkness of depression struggling to reassert itself against the newfound heat of her desire.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to play the music so loud. Please forgive me, I didn't mean to disturb you,” she babbled out and twisted her hands behind her back.

The shaggy man looked puzzled, but Sean gave her a smile that made her heart pause a beat then thump all the harder. Sweat trickled down the side of her face, and she dashed it away.

“Carmella, you're an amazing dancer. I am honored that one of my songs inspired you to move like that,” Sean said in his lovely accent. The way his eyes went soft when he said her name made her smile back at him with real warmth.

He remembered my name!
The silly teenage girl inside her giggled. Carmella tried to scold herself for getting so worked up over such a simple thing, but the giggly teenager wouldn't stop.
He thinks I'm an amazing dancer too!
Happiness filled her heart as she locked her gaze with Sean’s. He was smiling at her as if she was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. It had been a long, long time since anyone had looked at her like this, and she bathed in the heat of his gaze.

The other man looked at Sean and muttered, “Twitterpated,” and seemed to smirk.
Must be an Irish word,
Carmella thought absently as Sean continued to smile at her with that heart-stopping look in his eyes. They stared at each other, their breaths unconsciously slowing and matching each other until the rise and fall of their chests became one.

The shaggy man poked Sean in the ribs. “You're a lovely dancer. Monica, our choreographer, should talk to you when she comes to visit tomorrow. I know we’re here for the samba, but you've got some belly dancing moves that she would kill to learn.”

The darkness inside of her flexed, and images of Sean's choreographers laughing at her filled her mind. She felt the smile wilt off her face, and her gaze fell from Sean to the floor. She couldn't teach a professional choreographer. She was just a seamstress, not even good enough to teach the beginners class at the school. Monica would laugh in her face when she saw her pitiful attempts at dancing and tell Sean how horrible she was.

Sean's blue eyes darkened, and he took a step toward her. Before he could touch her, she ducked from beneath his hand and backed away from him. “I'm sorry, I can't. If you'll please excuse me, I have to finish Dianta's costume.” For the second time today, she found herself running away from Sean.

 

****

 

The breeze generated by her ancient rotating fan did little to cool Carmella. Back in her cramped studio, the afternoon sun blazed through the windows and turned the room into an oven. While the rest of the individual practice rooms were air-conditioned, her room was in an older part of the building that had never been upgraded. Usually she took her work to one of the unoccupied practice rooms, but with Carnival coming up the samba school was buzzing with activity and she’d been stuck in her cramped and hot workspace.

Sean and his people were everywhere. Unfamiliar faces and accents filled the hallway outside of her studio with laughter and energy. The darkness that seemed to hang over her had lifted, and everyone seemed happier. Everyone except her.

Tian had let her know that Sean was looking for her, but she had begged him to cover for her, claiming that she wasn't feeling well. He had given her an odd look, but promised not to tell Sean where she was. And now she sat, sweating and hiding from the man who hadn't left her thoughts since meeting him.

She wanted so badly to find Sean, to apologize for running away from him. Every time she almost got up the nerve to go find him, she’d look down at hands with her nails bitten off to the quick and chickened out. He’d probably just been being nice to her, feeling sorry for her obvious lack of grace and sophistication. There was no way a man, who had his pick of gorgeous and fascinating women, would ever want anything to do with her.

She had spied on him this morning, watched him enter the school flanked by amazingly confident and beautiful women. Her heart had ached when she saw the easy way they all talked together, how he had laughed at something they said and given one of the women a quick hug. If the devil had claimed her soul in exchange for taking the place of the woman in Sean's arms, she would have happily given it. That was about the only way she would ever feel his embrace.

She was so absorbed in feeling sorry for herself that she didn’t respond to the knock on the door. It was only after the person on the other side gave a good pound that she surfaced from the darkness inside of her and set aside the costume she worked on. After wiping the sweat off her face with the edge of her shirt, she yelled, “Come in!”

Time stopped as the door swung open, and Sean strode into the room holding a white paper bag. The sunlight hit his hair, bringing out the red and gold highlights in a blaze of color. His storm-gray eyes found hers, and a smile lit his face. Happy, he was actually happy to see her. So handsome, he was even more amazing than she remembered.

“Hello, Carmella. I hope you don't mind that I stopped by. Tian said you weren't feeling well.” She stared at him in silence, and his smile turned uncertain. “I, uh, thought you might like a drink.”

Her mind refused to process his words. “Drink?”

“Yeah. Tian said your stomach was upset, and I thought maybe a cold drink would help. This heat is brutal. I was afraid you might be getting dehydrated.” He scooted around a rack of costumes and took a quick glance around. A hard look of anger and disgust crossed his face, and she immediately felt ashamed. “How can you work in here? It's so hot I can barely breathe.”

Looking only at her hands, she shrugged. “You get used to it.” She was not going to tell him that usually she worked in here at night, spending the heat of the day in one of the empty practice rooms. Then he would ask her why she’d stayed in here today, and she would have to lie to him. For some reason, the thought of lying to Sean made her feel ill.

The silence between them deepened, and she could feel his tension and anger. It must have been her imagination, but she swore she would have been able to find him in the middle of the night at the bottom of a mineshaft. It was as if her body responded to his like a flower turning to find the sun.

The paper sack rustled, and something cold pressed up against her neck. She shrieked and grabbed at the icy can of soda. Her body broke out in goose bumps as Sean laughed. She wasn't sure if it was from the shocking cold or the sound of his laughter. It had an almost musical quality that radiated joy.

Daring to glance up at him, she saw that he watched her with an amused smile. Before she could look away, his gaze captured hers, and she lost herself in his eyes. Different shades of gray and blue moved through them like a stormy sea, and she became entranced. The deeper she looked, the more she saw until his gaze became her world.

His voice, deep and mellow, moved through her blood and sent sparks of pleasure flickering through her nervous system. “Carmella, you're going to teach me how to dance today.”

The instant panic his request, no his demand, triggered was washed away as he held her gaze and she found herself cocooned by the power of his will. “Okay.” Anything he asked of her would be okay. Warmth and desire swam through the depths of his stare, and her body heated in response. The feeling of desire was almost shocking after having been without it for so long. The last time she’d been on a date was before her father had passed and her body was starved for affection. Her nipples hardened to aching points, and she licked her suddenly sensitive lips. His gaze followed her tongue, and a wave of lust washed over her.

Clearing his throat, he turned his back and fumbled with the bag, breaking his hold on her. She almost dropped the soda she was holding as reality came rushing back in. What was she doing? She couldn't teach him how to dance. The very idea was ludicrous.

With his back still to her, he said in a rough and husky voice, “Let's go.”

He turned and held his hand out to her. Despite her mind’s protests, her body knew what it wanted. Setting the can on the floor, she slipped her hand into his and almost gasped. Energy flowed between them, and a hint of deep green streaked with gold appeared around Sean for a moment. It took her a moment to realize she was seeing Sean’s aura and she couldn’t stop the small gasp of wonder that escaped her.

Normally she didn’t have the talent or magical ability needed to see the energy that surrounded every living creature, but with Sean she could see it as clearly as if she gazed through a pair of outrageously expensive second sight glasses. The deep, vibrant green wrapped around her and caressed against her body in a way that set her blood on fire. Her hips arched forward as a low ache settled deep into her pussy. The energy condensed until it felt as if phantom lips were trailing over her neck. Sean let out a barely audible groan, and abruptly the sensation was gone, and she was alone in her body again.

Blinking rapidly, she would have pulled away if his hand hadn’t held hers so tight. He gave her a small, bemused smile. “Sorry about that. My aura likes you. Let's get out of here before it decides to misbehave again.”

Not trusting herself to speak, she just nodded as if she understood and let him lead her out of the room. She had no idea what had just happened between them, but she did know that it had been one of the most exciting moments of her life. She felt so alive, so aware, and relished the sensation of his large hand holding hers. An echo of—
what did he call it
?—his aura moved over her, and he glanced over his shoulder to give her a wicked grin.

As soon as they stepped into the hall, whispers erupted at the sight of them holding hands. Students gathered around one of the water coolers stared at them with disbelief. At the other end of the hall, a small cluster of teachers openly gaped. Sean ignored them all and led her to one of the practice rooms.

A hot flush burned her cheeks as the door closed behind them. The cool air felt wonderful on her overheated skin. Still pulling her after him, Sean went to the sound system against the wall and hit play.

Deep drums pulsed out their bass rhythm as he finally spoke. “I was hoping you could teach me some of Brazil's traditional dances. While I won't be dancing in the parade, I do need to know how you move in order to set my music to the right beat.”

Clearing her throat, she tried to tug her hand out of his, but he held on. “Why are you asking me? You should speak to one of our instructors. I'm just the seamstress.” She looked beyond his shoulder to the wall, not wanting to look at him and see his disappointment.

“Carmella,” goodness, she loved how he said her name. “You will never be just a seamstress.”

“What?”

He tugged her over to the floor-to-ceiling mirrors and placed her in front of him. She looked away, unable to deal with the sight of them standing together. It did no good; she could still see the image in her mind of a frumpy woman next to a gloriously handsome man. She’d taken off her sweatshirt earlier due to the heat of her workspace and her erect nipples were clearly visible through her faded and worn t-shirt. The top of her head came up to just below his jaw, and she looked so delicate and tiny next to his muscled frame. Dark and light, they complemented each other. She couldn't describe it, but he seemed to somehow shelter her with his body, to curve around and embrace her, even when she was just standing in front of him.

With a gentle touch, he smoothed a stray strand of her hair off her ear and whispered, “You might try to hide yourself beneath those clothes, but you will never be anything other than what you already are. Beautiful.”

The feeling of his breath tickling against her ear had her heart slamming into her ribs. He pulled her closer until her back pressed into his chest. The smell of his cologne washed over her, clean and crisp with a faint musk. Her nostrils flared to take his scent deep into her body even as she stiffened against him. This couldn't be happening, couldn't really be true. She must have passed out in her studio from the heat and was having some kind of delusion right now.

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