pay you back, remember?”
“By dancing with me?” I was already swaying to the music. “Not much of a punishment.”
His eyes sparkle, and my face scalds. Could I have sounded any more eager?
“By me showing you up on the dance floor,” he says.
“You showing me up?” I laugh and take his hand, letting him steer me toward the whirling couples. “Oh, honey, it’s on.”
What I haven’t told him is I’ve been practicing. Calandra and I and our friend Brooke signed up for dance lessons in December. We spent the winter and spring learning the waltz, tango, foxtrot, samba, cha cha, and other long-forgotten ways of moving to music.
Zach’s been practicing too, I realize as he swings me wide and then tugs me to him, hand landing on my waist in perfect waltz position.
We catch the music, Zach gliding with the three-four time as he spins me around. No tame basic box-step waltz—he’s taking me to nineteenth-century Vienna.
I keep up, because, yes, I learned all this. So did Calandra, but a glance shows me she’s returned to Ryan and content to cuddle up against him. Zach and I? We’re putting it out for all to see.
Austin, the youngest McLaughlin and the show-off, grabs the microphone. “Let’s hear it for the best man and maid of honor. Look at ’em go!”
Everyone is staring now as Zach sweeps me around the floor. We glide-step and spin, sashay back, and glide some more. If I had a train I’d be holding it in a wide arc like a blushing Victorian lady, but I’m in a tame yellow dress, no trains, no whirling skirts.
The music changes, and everyone filters away. The DJ is playing a tango. Where he dug it up, I can’t say, but by the sly look on Austin’s face, he’s slipped the man a twenty to play it.
Not that he’s tangoing. It’s Zach and me. Everyone else edges back to watch, like Zach and I are on a TV dance competition.
Zach takes me along in the slow, quick-quick steps, pushing me with his strong hand on mine, fingers firm on my waist.
The tango is a dance of passion, our instructor told us. The male students had to smolder at their partners, and we ladies had to smolder back. The women were good at it—the guys, horribly embarrassed.
Zach isn’t. His eyes hold fire as he gazes deeply into mine. An act, I know, for the dance, but I can’t help burning all the way to my toes.
I lift my chin, pretending I’m a sultry lady on a hot night in Buenos Aires. I dare Zach to look away, and he doesn’t. A slight flush touches his cheekbones, but other than that, he’s in perfect command, no embarrassment.
He tosses me out, and I spin away, brought up short by his strong hand at the fullest extent of my arm. We do our swaying steps, then he twirls me back against him again as everyone applauds.
“They’re loving this,” I whisper.
“They should. We’re awesome.” Zach grins. “Want to give them a grand finale?”
“Sure, why not?”
Another spin, and this time I come against him with my back to his front. Nice. I fit well into him, his body curving deliciously over mine.
He twirls me out once more, and we do some good footwork before spinning together again. The music winds toward its conclusion with a sashaying rhythm suggesting warm nights, breathlessness, desire.
Finally Zach pulls me against him, and I end up fully in his arms. He holds my gaze with his, and I read passion in his eyes, which looks good on him, believe me.
Then Zach abruptly dips me, arching me back over his rock-solid arms. A fine place to be. He hangs over me, face a few inches from mine, as I hover above the floor. But I won’t fall, I know, because Zach has me.
I play along, gliding my high-heeled shoe up his calf to his thigh. The audience whoops.
Then I realize—Zach will drop me. This will be his payback for my crack about his fly.
I brace for it, ready to catch myself as soon as he lets go.
But he doesn’t. Zach gently raises me to my feet, sliding his arms from around my waist to take my hand. The sudden absence of his body heat gives me a cold, empty feeling.
Zach gestures to me with a wave of his hand, and I make a grand bow. He bows with me, and the guests reward us with wild applause.
Austin, who I remember as always loving the