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The event’s emcee announced the beginning of the charity dances, and Shanna poised herself in a chair, plastic smile in place, at the edge of the ballroom floor.

People around her were beginning to pair up for the first of the dances, names and smiles being exchanged. She tossed her hair off her shoulders. That twisting of her stomach was not a pang of hurt. She didn’t care if no one bid on her dances. Sitting back would give her an opportunity to observe her competition, since most of the other dancers were here…just in case she and Kristoff somehow won, in spite of his indiscreet sex life.

Tomorrow, she’d find some way to destroy or discredit that shocking DVD. She wasn’t giving up on years of hard work and her dreams of being a champion without a fight.

“I believe this dance is mine.”

Shanna followed the deep voice and looked up into an incredibly handsome face. Strong features, burning hazel eyes, heavy five-o’clock shadow, perfectly tailored gray suit with a vavoom red tie. Her heart lurched; this one had sin written all over him.

He also looked familiar. She stared, hesitating, but the more she thought about it, the more certain she became. Somewhere, somehow, they’d crossed paths before.

“Have we met?”

He smiled, all dazzling charm, oozing Latin charisma and hot sex. “Yes. Three months ago. The Bartolino Foundation thing.”

That night rushed back to her with overwhelming clarity. This sexy man with his killer smile flirting outrageously and whispering shocking, hot suggestions as he tangoed her around the dance floor. At the end of the night, he’d asked her out…while trying to kiss her. She’d been incredibly tempted—and that was saying something for a woman who’d easily refused every man for nearly two years. But this man might as well have the word distraction tattooed on his forehead. Go out with him? No way, no how. She’d refused him and disappeared into the crowd. She assumed she’d seen the last of him.

Somehow, she got the feeling she’d underestimated him.

“Ah, I think you recall that night.” A smile lifted the edges of his lips.

“Alejandro, isn’t it?”

“Alejandro Diaz, yes.”

Shanna drew in a deep breath. Just like their first meeting, he caused an unwelcome dizzying effect, complete with revving heartbeat. Warning! When she dated, which was rarely, she chose safe men—guys who were rich, too busy with their own careers to be demanding, and far too dull to keep her interest for more than an evening. She just didn’t have time for a relationship when she had a dance career that needed all her time and attention.

This one might as well shout that he’d be both fascinating and determined. He would get his way—and have his way with her.

Not if she could help it.

Steeling herself against the impact of his touch, Shanna put her hand in his. No matter how prepared she thought she’d been for the skin-on-skin contact, she’d been wrong. A wild gong of want beat through her the second her palm brushed his. She braced for the rush of heat as she rose to her feet.

“The music is starting. Shall we?” He gestured to the dance floor, then eased her forward with a hand at the small of her back.

“Sure.” What else could she say? This was his three minutes; he’d paid for them, so she owed him that. But no more.

God, not a second more.

A soft Latin rhythm began to wash through the room from the overhead speakers. Sensual, hypnotic, the music spoke of a humid summer night shared by lovers. Shanna nearly groaned. Great, a rumba, the dance of love. The one that most emulated passion and sex. Why now?

On a strong beat, Alejandro grabbed her wrist and pulled her against him. Shanna tried to stop herself from crashing into him by planting a hand on his chest. But her fingers only encountered hard muscle. Oh God, he was like a rock under that shirt, and given his mile-wide shoulders, she was suddenly sure that seeing him naked would be ten times better than a slice of her favorite sinful chocolate cake.

He hooked a finger under her chin. Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze to his. The heat in those hazel eyes fired molten gold. Look away. Get away! But she couldn’t. Once her gaze connected with his, she was locked in, fused to him in a way she didn’t understand. And didn’t like.

That stare sizzled all through her…and settled right between her legs. She blinked, unable to break his gaze.

Sex had always been something she could take or leave. At the moment, she wanted to take anything he was willing to dish out.

How could he do that with just a glance?

As she drew in a deep breath and tried to find her wits, he curled a thick arm around her waist, drawing her even closer. His whole body was hard…every inch of it. From the feel of him, many inches. Shanna trembled to realize his body was every bit as interested as hers was. Thank God these dances were short.

Then he held out his left hand, palm up. Slowly, she placed her hand in his.

They began to dance. He was incredibly smooth, never dancing on his heels, never losing the beat of the music. Wow, could he move his hips. Perfect figure eights with them. No doubt, he’d learned how to dance very well somewhere along the way.

Basic boxes quickly gave way to an open position, then a cross, which he used as an opportunity to brush his body against hers and caress her hip. An underarm turn led her right back to a basic.

Oh, this guy was good for an amateur. She had an inkling that he might be good at…other things.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” she asked, grasping at conversational straws. Maybe if she was talking, she wouldn’t be thinking about how much this guy turned her on.

“Helping orphans is not a worthwhile cause?”

“It is. Most men would rather simply write a check than ballroom dance.”

“I brought my mother. She enjoys these things, and it is a very small thing to do in order to see her smile.”

Sexy, a good dancer, family-oriented, crazy handsome, Alejandro seemed like every woman’s fantasy. He had to be too good to be true, have some terrible flaw she just couldn’t see at the moment. If not…Lord, she was in a lot of trouble.

Her body temperature rose with every suggestive look, every sweep of his hand over her waist and low dive on her hip, each brush of his palm that inched toward her ass.

Damn! Why hadn’t she found some man to scratch her itch in the last two years? Or even invested in a good vibrator? Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t feel wound so tightly right now, so ready to jump on Alejandro and every protruding part of his body.

“That’s nice of you,” she managed to say.

“Not really. I knew you would be here.”

“M—me?”

“Hmm.” He led her into another open position, then curled her against his body, hips crushed against hips. And she felt more than his pelvis. Way more.

“Certainly you can feel my…enthusiasm to meet you again.” He laughed, seemingly at himself.

Yeah. His enthusiasm was sizeable and very hard to miss.