In the Air (The City Book 1) - By Crystal Serowka Page 0,6

he looked over his shoulder and grinned at me. The moment Samson shuffled his feet across the floor, his face filled with emotion. As I watched him perform, I noticed the unrestrained passion that escaped his every move. I had never seen a man dance as gracefully as he had. Samson finished with a double revoltade, landing perfectly on both feet.

My eyes opened wide while my jaw dropped. Clearly, Samson was born to do this. He turned back to look at me, his eyes filled with desire. I swore I gulped so loudly that everyone around me heard.

After twenty minutes, all of the students had performed their solos. Madame Dampier took notes during the dances, arranging the partnerships. She moved to the center of the room, studying her papers before speaking.

"Okay, as I call on you, please come to the front where you will join your partner." She began calling out names of the guys and girls in the room. As I saw each of them pairing up, I noticed that Samson and I were among the last few people left. Please, oh please, don't let him be my partner. "Natalia Brooks and Samson Callahan."

Apparently, my good luck extends beyond roommates.

Samson didn't budge, so I headed to the front. I walked as slowly as I could, trying my hardest to waste time. When I reached him, his grin grew wider.

"Natalia Brooks, is it? We meet again." His eyes darted across my face.

"Samson Callahan. Nice fancy name," I muttered. "I hope you're good enough to be my partner." I huffed and turned away.

He leaned into my personal space, his lips close to my ear. "There are a lot of things I'm good at, doll," he whispered.

Samson's words verified my speculations. His ego was so big that I was certain he had a hard time lifting himself out of bed each morning.

Madame Dampier began the lesson by prompting us to do barre work. It allowed our bodies to stretch, preparing them for what was to come in class. We began by doing pliés. Madame Dampier studied each student, correcting an arm here, a foot there. Already, I knew she would be a stickler for the tiniest things.

After thirty minutes, she instructed us to move to our assigned partners. "We'll begin with basic partnering techniques."

Samson walked to my side, bumping my shoulder lightly. I looked up at him, straight-faced. I was annoyed that he acted like he already knew me. In response to my obvious irritation, Samson shook his head and laughed.

"Take your partner's hand," Madame Dampier instructed, walking casually through the room.

Samson's left hand took my right and his right arm encircled my waist.

"Don't get too excited being this close to me," I whispered. "It will only happen when we're dancing."

Even as I claimed my superiority, I was surprised at how my body responded to his touch. I've had plenty of partners over the years, but not one that ignited any sort of sensual feelings.

His blue eyes looked me up and down as if I were a complicated puzzle he wasn't able to put together. "You don't seem to like me very much," he said as his hand grasped mine tightly.

My palm begin to sweat from the contact of our skin. Instantly, I felt my face heat up.

"You don't miss a thing," I responded, looking down at my feet and trying my hardest to mask the redness on my cheeks.

I wasn't used to carrying on a conversation while dancing with a partner, and I was a little irritated that he felt the need to chit-chat.

"Not good at multi-tasking?" Samson asked, cracking a smile.

"We should really concentrate on our movements. I need to live the dance." I couldn't believe I had just quoted my mother's favorite saying, but I wasn't quick enough to come up with anything better to cease the discussion.

"Did you just say 'live the dance'?" His wide smile made my heart beat rapidly.

"I did. Now please," I urged, "we need to pay attention. I have to get these moves right." My perfectionism revealed itself. I couldn't stand being mediocre at anything. If Samson hadn't already summed me up before, I'm sure he had by now.

"You're one of those–a stickler for getting every little thing right."

I ignored his comment, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was correct. Instead, I focused on how surprised I was by Samson's dancing. I could tell he had been through proper training. His body meshed well with mine and we were perfectly