A Slow-Burning Dance (3 page)

It
was late and she didn’t want to take a chance on waking him, so instead she
sent a text, thanking him for the beautiful flowers and telling him she’d love
to attend the concert with him. Her phone rang almost immediately, and she
jumped a bit.

“Sela,
I’m still up. I almost always work late.”

“I
imagine your work never ends with a company to run.”

His
soft laugh sent a shiver down her spine. “No, it sure doesn’t. I’m pleased you
liked the flowers.”

“Damien,
they’re gorgeous. I love them. Thank you.”

“You
deserve beautiful things. I’ll meet you at your place Friday about six. Will
that work for you? There’s a restaurant at the Pavilion, and we can grab some
dinner before the concert.”

“I
can meet you at the Pavilion.”

“Nonsense.
It’s a date, and a gentleman escorts a lady. He doesn’t ask her to meet him
there and expect her to find her own way.”

She
almost giggled at the old-fashioned concept, but was touched by his
graciousness. “Thank you. Six will be fine. Damien, I owe you an apology for
the way I behaved.”

“Nonsense.
Let’s start over, all right?”

She
smiled. “All right.”

“Great.
See you tomorrow evening, then.”

Sela
had a tough time falling asleep as she imagined what the following night might
bring. When she did finally drift off, her dreams were filled with erotic
images of making love to Damien.

Chapter
Three

After
literally taking everything out of her closet and dresser drawers, Sela finally
chose to wear her favorite summer dress. It had a bold flower print over a red
background, which looked perfect with her dark hair and eyes. Plus she loved
the pleated skirt. She wore matching sandals and jewelry, and took way too much
time deciding how much makeup to wear, or whether to wear any at all. Finally,
she decided not to bother with it because she might look ridiculous and
over-dressed, since she rarely wore any.

Damien
buzzed from downstairs at ten to six, but she was ready. He looked too damn
handsome in a pair of dressy jeans and a button down shirt. She couldn’t stop
staring at him. He had also looked great in the suit she’d seen him in the day
before last, but this gave him an air of casualness that was even sexier. She
caught the scent of the same cologne he’d worn Wednesday, and wondered how he
found it underground. Cologne and perfume were very hard to come by. Anything
non-essential to basic life was.

“Uh,
wow.” He stared at her as if he’d never seen a woman before. “You look
incredible.”

“Thank
you. I was just thinking the same about you.”

He
looked genuinely surprised by her compliment. “Thank you for saying so.”

“You
don’t need me to tell you that you’re a good looking man, Damien.”

A
smile played at the corners of his mouth. “No, but I like hearing it from you,
just the same. Thank you for giving me a chance to make up for the way I
behaved at the construction site.”

She
shook her head. “Like I said on the phone, I’m the one who behaved badly.”

“Well
in that case, let’s agree once more to start over from this night forward. What
do you say?”

His
delighted smile made her pussy wet.

“I
think that’s a wonderful idea.”

She
needed to get a grip on her hormones. She had no intentions of having sex with
this man tonight, despite the erotic dreams that had haunted her sleep. Sela Chavez
was not going to be splashed all over the tabloids with her brother’s boss, no
matter how fucking hot he was.

****

Damien
could barely keep his eyes off Sela as they walked across the city toward the
Music Pavilion. Why hadn’t he asked her out six years ago?
Because she looked like she was still in high school!
That was
true, but she didn’t look like that now. This woman was stunning, but it wasn’t
only her looks that captivated him. He’d asked her how long she’d wanted to own
a dance studio and why, and she hadn’t stopped talking since.

She
had more passion and conviction in her than most of his employees put together.
She and Santino shared that trait, but Sela was far more animated than her
brother. Damien’s face hurt from smiling and laughing as he listened to her
describe everything from her first recital, to how she’d chosen the name for
the studio.

Canción de la Danza
meant “dance song”
in English, and Sela explained that was what it felt like in her heart when she
danced. Like she was singing a song with her body. When she described her first
dance lesson at age three, and how she hadn’t felt any of the trepidation
toward such a pursuit that children of that age usually do, he nodded several
times in complete understanding.

“I was four when I built my first project out of twigs, dried
mud, and sod I’d lifted from our front yard. It was a housing development with
several streets and a post office.”

Sela’s eyes widened, and then she laughed. Damien loved her
laugh. It reminded him of the sound of warm rain on a summer afternoon hitting
the terra cotta tiles on the roof. “Were your parents upset that you’d ripped
up the grass?”

“Oh, yeah. Until my father stood there and counted the buildings
I’d constructed. Then he picked me up, gave me a big hug, and asked me if I
wanted to come to work with him the next day.”

“Is yours a family business?”

“Not exactly. He was a project manager for a construction firm,
but never owned his own company. It was my dream to do that when I saw how damn
hard he worked, but never got any of the glory when things went right.”

She nodded. “That went to the architects and the owners, right?”

He was impressed. “How did you know?”

“It’s the same in dance. When a show gets rave reviews, they
praise the choreography, not the dancers. They write about the lush sets or the
music, but rarely do they single out individual dancers unless they thought one
did a terrible job. Then your name is splashed all over the Internet.”

He’d never considered that other fields experienced the same
skewed points of view when it came to acknowledging someone had done a great
job. “You must be thrilled to have your dream so close to reality.”

“I really am, but I’m nervous, too. A lot of my students can’t
afford the price increase in lessons that I need to charge so I can make a
profit.”

“What will you do with them?”

She shrugged. “Keep them on, of course. I’m not going to drop
students whose dream it is to dance because of money. I’ll simply have to work
harder and bring in new clients.”

“What about a partner? Is there another instructor who could
teach there with you, or buy into part of the business?”

“No one I’d trust that much. I have auditions lined up next week
for part-time instructors, but right now I’ll be leading most of the classes
myself. Any instructors I hire won’t be employees. Instead, they’ll contract to
use the space in exchange for a small percentage of their class fee.”

“That’s a solid idea, but also a lot of work to take on the bulk
of classes yourself.”

“I’m not afraid of hard work.”

Her answer had an edgy tone, so Damien stopped walking and
turned to face her. “I have no doubt of that. You’re a dedicated, passionate
person, just like your brother. I only meant that starting a business isn’t a
solitary endeavor. You need to surround yourself with people who you can trust,
and to whom you can delegate.”

She smiled, and he was grateful for that. He didn’t want to
upset her again before they reached their destination. They continued walking
as she answered him. “Santino said the exact same thing. I always did have a
tendency to want to do it all myself.”

“A Latina woman grows up having to prove herself in her family.
That’s been true for a long time, and unfortunately it still is. We have
certain expectations for our women, but when they want to excel in a different
or nontraditional way, we get all macho on them.”

She laughed again, and now his damn dick was rock hard. “That is
so
true.”

“When my sister announced she wanted to drive a dump truck, my
parents laughed. Then they told her she would marry and give them
grandchildren, so she wouldn’t have time to drive a truck.”

“I didn’t realize you had a sister.”

He swallowed hard as memories assaulted his senses. “She passed
away in one of the floods.”

The look of sympathy in her beautiful eyes made him want to pull
her close and hold her for hours. The hell with the concert.

“Santino never told me.”

“He doesn’t know. I haven’t said much to him about my family
because I know he lost his. I never wanted to bring up painful memories for
him, but I had a similar experience. Out of my entire family, only two cousins
survived long enough to get underground, and they both work for me now. One is
my marketing manager, and the other runs my public relations department.”

“I’m so sorry you went through the same thing Santino and I
did.”

“I’m so grateful I hired your brother. He’s helping each of us
find these bastards so we can nail them.”

“He talks about that a lot.” Her eyes grew wide for a second. “I
guess I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“I’m sure you’re careful with what he tells you.”

“I would never say a word to anyone. I swear it.”

Damien was sure Santino had spilled more than a few secrets to
his sister. “Give me an example of what he’s told you.”

“He talks about how much you all do to find the people responsible
for this.”

“Can you be more specific?”

She gave him a sheepish look. “He told me about the secret
teams. I’ll keep my mouth shut. I swear to you I will.”

“It’s important that information never becomes public.”

“I know. I understand why not. You can’t catch them if they know
how you’re trying to find them. You have my word that I’ll never say anything.”

“Thank you.” Damien knew how close Santino was to his sister,
but he also could see she meant what she’d said. She would keep quiet about the
teams.

“He’s also very excited about the new shelters your company is
building.”

“We’re excited about them, too.” His company had recently
redesigned the original above ground shelters that were built along with the
underground cities. The company that Ace’s father owned had built both the
original shelters and the cities after the nuclear war scare of 2072. The new
shelters would be larger, stronger, and better equipped for communication
between those living above ground and below. “The Storm Troopers really need
them.”

“Will they be used by anyone else?”

“Not right now.” Addison Carlyle’s teams wanted new shelters to
use as well, but Damien had thought it was more important the Storm Troopers
have them first. “We designed them for the specific needs of the Storm
Troopers. If they turn out as well as we hope, we’ll build new ones for the
teams who go above ground to retrieve items, but that’s not a priority.”

She smiled. “Santino said some of your friends think it is.”

“He’s right, but since I’m the one who is building them, they
don’t have much say-so.”

“I heard you obtained the financing from Kane Bannerman’s
company. Is that true?”

“Not exactly. Bannerman Investments came up with some very
creative ways for us to raise money for the project, but part of the cost came
from my company profits.”

She glanced up at him through thick lashes and gave him another
sheepish grin. “I just realized how many inside deals we’ve talked about.
Santino’s not in trouble, is he?”

“Your brother will never be in trouble with me.”

The pavilion was in sight, and he could already smell the food
and hear the pre-recorded music blasting from speakers on the outside of the
building.

She laughed softly, and when Damien took her hand, she gave it a
squeeze. “Thank you for trusting him so much. He thinks the world of you.”

“I feel the same way toward him.” Holding her hand was like
finding manna in the desert, but now he was so damn horny he could barely walk.
He had to keep a check on his emotions tonight because the urge to kiss her was
strong. He had to let her set the pace tonight, even if that meant he went home
with a raging hard-on and had blue balls by morning.

****

Sela hadn’t tasted fried plantains since she’d lived above
ground. “These are crazy good.”

“The food here is amazing. Sometimes I come here just to eat,
even if I don’t have tickets for a concert.”

“I don’t blame you.” If it wasn’t also crazy expensive, she’d do
the same thing. She took a sip of her frozen daiquiri. “I haven’t had one of
these either since before moving underground.”

“Not too many places still take the time to make them.”

“All this food … where did they find it?”

He smiled, and the gesture sent shivers down her spine. What
would it be like to see that sexy smile as she gazed into his face while they
make love? “The oceans are still teeming with life, but it’s dangerous to go to
the surface, take a boat out, and try to catch anything.”

“Is that part of what Addison Carlyle’s teams do?”

“They do whatever they’re paid to do, whether the client wants
mussels, or something that might still be left in the Louvre.”

“Surely some of them die going up there.”

“Some do. That’s why Addison wants new shelters for them as
well, but he’s missing the bigger picture. Unless they can get to a shelter in
time, the best constructed ones we can build won’t save them. We lose Storm
Troopers all the time, and we know that building them new shelters won’t keep
that from happening. However, it will give them more shelters, and ones
designed to sustain them longer and more safely while inside.”

“But at some point they still have to leave them and chase the
next storm.”

He nodded. “That’s true.”

“Have you gone up to the surface since moving here?”

He shook his head. “No, and I have no plans to. I’ll leave that
to the people who enjoy such pursuits.”

“What pursuits do you enjoy? I mean aside from building things?”

He popped another mussel into his mouth and chewed it slowly.
Sela was fascinated watching him do so. The way his jaw moved, and the look of
bliss that came over his face as the juices tickled his taste buds was like
watching someone in the throes of an orgasm. Not that she could fault him. The
mussels really were delicious.