“Not bad,” the voice said coolly. “Not bad at all.”

“Thanks.” Char grinned.

Jake rolled his eyes. “She’s only complimenting you so you’re all fat and happy before she kills you.”

“Sharp-tongued, that one,” the voice announced. “But you’ll do. Oh Jake, you’ll do just fine. Tell me, how comfortable are you with the stage?”

“Not comfortable.” Jake coughed. “Not at all, you see. I have this bad knee and—”

“His knee’s fine!” Char interjected with a wink.

He lunged for her just as the lights flickered off and the room returned to a normal state.

In the normal light, it wasn’t so daunting. It looked like a dance studio mixed with a really weird party shop.

“Hello!” A woman appeared from a balcony above them. “Sorry to put you on the spot like that, but your dear old grandma said you kids needed a good laugh.”

“Ha ha.” Jake was going to strangle his grandmother.

“Anyway, I assume you’ve been given instructions about the dance you’ll be performing?”

“Dance?” Jake asked.

“Performing?” Char echoed.

“But of course! I am Madame, the best dance instructor in the city.”

Yeah, Jake highly doubted that. The woman was at least his grandmother’s age and was at that point walking so slowly down the stairs that he was pretty sure she was actually aging before his eyes.

“Um, I think perhaps my grandmother was confused.” Jake’s eyes were glued to the woman’s shaky legs as she slowly descended. Good Lord, her heels were at least six inches and her skirt… It covered nothing. To be fair, the woman’s legs were quite fit. He tilted his head to gain a better view.

“I think it’s Jake who’s confused.” Char nudged him. “Either that or he’s under a spell in the form of a pair of long legs.”

Madame grinned as she settled on the last stair. “Happens all the time. What can I say? I’m a treat for the eyes.” She thrust her chest out and winked at Jake.

“I want to go home,” Jake whispered as he reached for Char’s hand.

Char jerked her hand away and approached Madame. “Like Jake said, I think Grandma was confused. You see, we have a list of things we have to get done before the wedding. This was the next appointment. So do we need to pick something up or—”

“Silence!” Madame shouted. “I will not have your back talk. Grandma said you will perform the dance, so dance!”

“Dance?” Jake croaked.

“Dance!” Madame twirled in front of them and snapped her fingers above her head. “I shall teach you the dance of love. You’ll perform it at the wedding ceremony. Now, this specific dance is that of a mating ritual.”

“Aw, shit.” Jake took a few deep breaths. “There will be no mating on the dance floor.”

Madame laughed. “But of course not! You’ll be dancing! It is a ritual, not the act, you naughty boy.” With a wink she lifted her hand and tilted Jake’s chin toward her. “My, but you’re pretty.”

Jake was going to kill his grandmother. But he was too traumatized, too shocked to do anything except stare back into the Cougar’s eyes and pray she didn’t tie him up somewhere and put him in a cage.

Madame growled and released his chin. “Now, places in the middle of the floor. Remember, this dance is what brings good luck to the marriage. Mess it up and the future of your brother’s happiness weighs on you.”

“No pressure,” Char interjected.

Madame pressed a button and suddenly the lights lowered again. Soft music resembling a type of tango began to play in the background.

“Middle of the floor,” Madame instructed.

Jake went to the middle of the floor and held out his hand to Char. “Come on, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can leave and get alcohol poisoning.”

Char’s eyes darted between his hand and his face before she begrudgingly took his hand and stepped into the frame of his body. “Fine, but keep your wandering hands to yourself.”

“Please,” Jake snorted. “Like your body is any sort of temptation for a man of my tastes.”

Char smiled sweetly. “I forgot—you like fake… my mistake.”

“I—”

“Now!” Madame clapped. “close your eyes. I shall walk you through the dance, but you must trust me, you must trust one another.”

Char’s hands were perspiring. That one word, trust. It immediately thrust her back into junior high. When she and Jake had been doing the trust fall—when he promised he’d catch her—and he’d failed.

When she was called fat.

And he refused to defend her.

Char’s mom had always told her that she’d laugh about it someday, that the things that happen to you in junior high don’t hold any power over your life in adulthood. But she was wrong… When you’re hurt at such a vulnerable age it’s impossible to forget the hurt. Especially if that one hurt launched you into a two-year issue with bulimia and diet pills.

So, trust? No, she didn’t trust Jake Titus, because the last two times she had. He’d walked away from her.

“Trust,” Madame repeated. “And follow my hands.” Char felt a hand on her shoulder and then she was pushed forward into Jake’s arms. His breath hitched as her cheek came into contact with his firm chest.

“Now, Jake, step back,” Madame instructed. “And do the—Oh my, you do know how to dance, don’t you?”

Char opened her eyes just as Jake pushed her away and twirled her, then pulled her back into his frame, tipping her over his leg in a dip.

“Trust me.” He whispered as he turned her in his arms, causing her entire backside to be firmly pressed against his front.

He felt too good.

With another twirl she was facing him.

“Now,” Madame called. “There are a series of seven dips, be sure to twirl her out, dip on one side and—oh dear, heavens, child. Have you done the mating dance before?”

Jake blushed.

Char opened her mouth to ask the same thing, but he dipped her across his leg and then twirled her out, causing her to nearly stumble until with a tug, Jake had her firmly in his arms again; only this time her feet dangled above the ground.

Slowly, he released her as she slid down his body, feeling every damn muscle of his six-pack. She only knew it was there because she counted muscles as her body descended.

The music stopped.

Char looked into Jake’s eyes.

His lips parted as he leaned forward.

“Marvelous!” Madame clapped.

Char jumped back and wiped her hands on her jeans.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you, darling?” Madame winked at Jake and patted him on the butt, then turned to Char. “As long as you let him lead, for the day of the wedding you will be perfectly fine.”

Char nodded. “Are we done then?”

“Dancing is part of life. One is never done dancing.”

“Or mating,” Jake said helpfully.

Madame blushed and began fanning her face. “Would you care for some refreshments?”

Char might as well have been invisible.

Jake reached for Char’s arm and pulled her into his body. “Um, no thank you. I’d best get my girlfriend home.”

Madame’s lips formed a pout. “Girlfriend?”

Jake’s grip tightened on Char’s waist.

“Yeah, Jake, girlfriend? I mean…” Char twisted to face him. “I didn’t know we were going to make it official and everything.”

His nostrils flared as his eyes darted between Madame and her. “We’ll just seal it with a kiss, shall we?”

Before Char could protest his lips were on hers.

Holy crap.

He tasted like pure virile man. He parted her lips with his tongue and dove into the depths of her mouth. His lips were like velvet, perfectly formed against hers, which were not fighting but—partaking.

With a moan Char wrapped her arms around his neck—completely forgetting herself—and kissed him back. He made a sound low in his throat as his grip on her body tightened.

“This… is not a brothel,” Madame interrupted frostily.

“Could have fooled me,” Jake said against Char’s lips.