am a hot third-base player.” “You are a stud on the baseball diamond,” Nate agreed.
“I am. I think I’m going to head over to the bar and see if I can get them to add a little rum to this Coke,” he said. “Not that I don’t appreciate the thought, Jen.”
“No problem,” she said.
T.J. got up and left the table. Nate watched his friend go and hoped that he’d find some kind of peace in the alcohol.
“Thanks for giving us a minute,” Nate said.
“It’s okay. I have friends, too. I know how it is when you need some privacy with them,” she said.
“Sit down,” he said, gesturing to the seat next to him.
“I was thinking I should head out,” she said.
“Why? What changed your mind?”
She sat down in the chair next to him perching on the edge of the seat. “This isn’t my scene.”
“Why not? It’s not different than being downstairs with your sister,” Nate said.
“Maybe not to you, but this isn’t my crowd of people. There are celebs everywhere and people are taking photos with them and I think there are only two groups here.”
“What are they?”
“Those who belong and those who are hanging on. And I don’t want to be that,” Jen said.
She reached over and took his hand in hers and he noticed how delicate her fingers looked with those long pink nails of hers. “I like you, Nate, but this is your world, and being here for just a short time has shown me that I don’t belong in it.”
“You could if I invited you in.”
“I could,” she said. “But for how long?”
Four
Nate shrugged. “Life can be pretty crazy.”
“I know it can,” she said.
“Sit down, Jen. Tell me what brought you here.”
She swallowed hard enough for him to see and shook her head. “That’s not a good topic of conversation.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s a samba playing and I’d rather dance.”
And just like that she changed the conversation. He was no longer thinking about who she was and where she’d come from but rather how nice it felt when they’d danced together earlier.
He stood and led her to the dance floor. As soon as they were there he turned and she started dancing. The samba was a very quick-moving dance but he followed her moves perfectly.
When he’d been old enough to notice girls, he’d realized that they liked to dance and if he knew how—no matter how much ribbing he had to take from his friends—he’d be very popular with the ladies. That had worked to his advantage and he’d liked it.
Jen was a great dancer, her lithe body moving in time with the music, but she also kept eye contact with him and soon the dance felt as if it was just between the two of them.
He found the rhythm and their hips swayed in the same motion. He drew her closer to him as they moved and felt the brush of her body against his. He kept his hand steady in the small of her back even when she would have stepped back.
She looked up at him, confusion and desire evident in her gaze, and he knew that something had just changed between them.
The lust that had been there from the first moment they met was now blossoming into something stronger, something more solid. And as the song built up to the ending, he drew her into his arms and kissed her.
She didn’t think of the past or the future. She just lived in the now.
Somehow the night slipped away from her and though she’d meant to leave after one dance, one dance turned into just one more and she spent the night on the floor with Nate. For the first time since she’d been forced to leave the competitive dance world she felt alive.
It bothered her that a man was the reason why. And she knew that this night was a one-off. There was no way she’d ever be with Nate for more than this night. His crowd of friends consisted of people that she read about in glamour magazines and on the internet gossip websites. And though they were unfailingly polite to her, she knew tomorrow they wouldn’t recognize her.
“I need a drink,” Nate said, drawing her off the dance floor. “You might be used to dancing that much but I am not.”
“I didn’t notice you falling behind,” she said.
“I’ve got the stamina,” he said with a wink. “Plus, I couldn’t let a girl out-dance me.”
“A girl? Women don’t like being called girls,” she said to him.
“Ah, I meant it in a nice way. My dad was real old-fashioned when it came to ladies and we were never allowed to call girls women. He thought it was too harsh.”
Jen shook her head and had to laugh at that. “I guess it’s okay then.”
He hugged her close with one arm. They were both sweaty from dancing so much and she liked Nate’s musky smell. She leaned in closer for just a second before she realized what she was doing.
“Don’t,” he said, stopping her by holding her tighter. “I like having you close.”
“I like it, too,” she said, softly. She looked up into those dark obsidian eyes of his.
“Good. Now how about another mojito?”
“I think water would be better,” she said. She was already buzzing a little from the drinks and the dancing. And from Nate, she thought. He went to her head faster than any other man she’d ever been with. Maybe that was because in the past, a man would have had to compete with her dancing career, but now she was simply a woman. And this man … well, he was addictive.
“Water first,” he said. “Then mojitos … I don’t like to drink alone.”
“I’m sure that’s not an issue. You always have someone on your arm.” “Not always,” he said.
And as he walked away, she realized there was more to the playboy that she’d first suspected.
When he returned to her side, he led her out of the crowded part of the club and behind the stage where there was a roped-off area. There were not a lot of people back here—in fact, it took her a few moments to notice it was just the two of them.
He handed her the water and she drank it down, grateful for it after all the dancing they’d done.
“I love this view,” he said, pulling her closer to the railing that ran around the edge of the roof.
She glanced out over Little Havana and toward the Miami skyline. She could make out the bright lights on the Four Seasons Hotel, which was the largest building in Florida. It was a breathtaking view.
“I can see why,” she said. “Tell me about this club and how you ended up here.”
He arched one eyebrow at her. “I would have thought that was all common knowledge.”
She shook her head. “Not really. I mean I know the headlines and the speculation, but I want to know the real story. Why did Nate Stern leave baseball to help run a club in South Florida with his brothers instead of pursuing a career in front of the camera?”
She finished her glass of water and set it down on the wrought-iron table. Nate took her arm and led her farther away from the club sounds as the deejay played Santana. There was a padded bench set amongst some tall trees. The night breeze surrounded them and she felt more comfortable in her own skin than she had in years.
“If