In the Brazilian's Debt(31)

                She shivered involuntarily when his hand found the small of her back, and his fingers spread out to claim her.

                ‘And I love it when you speak your mind. It’s vital that I listen to the views of everyone on my team.’

                The team with one captain, Lizzie reflected, relieved that Chico couldn’t know his whispered words and those wicked hands of his were imparting messages he almost certainly did not intend, and in a language wholly unknown to her before tonight.

                ‘If you ever need more help, Lizzie...’

                How to answer that, when Chico’s fingertips were only a whisper away from the swell of her buttocks? Could he guess how this dance was affecting her? Was he mocking her, toying with her? Was this all a game? Maybe they were both playing games. She wasn’t dancing with Chico because of the scholarship, but because of the sheer animal attraction between them and unfinished business from the past. She longed to know the truth about him—all of it, but Chico was making it as hard as he could for her to remain cool and objective so she could gather the information she needed. His mouth was too close to her ear, his breath too warm on her neck, and their bodies were so close she could feel his heart beating. This wasn’t just dangerous; this was a crazy, full-of-risk, exciting possibility.

                * * *

                What was it about music and sex? The rhythm, he decided. Dancing was the perfect prelude to sex. Lizzie’s breathing had quickened, and her heart was pounding furiously against his chest. What was in her head? Raw sex was swirling round them, and that couldn’t be helping Miss Prim right now. All the other dancers were intent on each other, and, no doubt, the inevitable outcome of the evening for them. How did Lizzie think this would end? With a good night’s sleep?

                ‘Don’t fight me,’ he murmured, his mouth close to her ear. ‘Once a day during training sessions, that’s okay. Here on the dance floor? No.’

                ‘Stop,’ she warned him in a whisper.

                ‘Stop? Of course I’ll stop, if you want me to.’

                Her answer was to shake her head as if she had given up on trying to reason with him, but she didn’t pull away and that brought more of her into contact with him. That brought all of her into contact with him.

                ‘You are a very bad man,’ she chastened him—and, unless he was imagining things, seemingly enjoying the fact.

                ‘I’m glad we understand each other at last,’ he murmured.

                All the times he’d touched her seemed to have accumulated in her memory bank, and that wasn’t helping, Lizzie realised as they danced on—or, rather, as they gently rubbed their bodies together until the fire inside her threatened to explode right there on the dance floor with everyone watching. Her head was full of Chico kissing her, and how much she wanted him to kiss her again. The excitement when his powerful body had held her trapped had been enough to make her want more. Just thinking about it had brought her to a state of arousal she’d never experienced before. And she was in no hurry to come down.

                ‘Another dance?’

                It took her a moment to realise that Chico was speaking to her. She wanted to reply, but it was hard to concentrate long enough to form the words when streaks of sensation were rippling through every nerve ending in her body and her stash of smart retorts was lost in a mist of softly pulsing pleasure. And whatever she said, she doubted anything would remove that mocking curve from Chico’s mouth. He knew his power over her was sex. She hoped he couldn’t even begin to guess how badly she wanted him. But, maybe he could. Chico Fernandez was said to have senses second to none.