Two to Tango (Filthy Dirty Desires) - Page 2

Juliette’s nose scrunched as she bent down to turn down the volume on the electronic toy her daughter was playing with. “Yikes, that’s awful.”

“And the last guy Lisa went out with wasn’t much better.” Her lips flattened as she took a deep breath. “He was her dance partner on Dance, Magic, Dance! Jake asked her out about a dozen times while the show was filming, and he finally caught her in a bad moment when she was disappointed that they got voted out. Then, after trying so hard to get her to say yes, he totally flubbed the date.”

I never thought I’d do a reality television show, but the senior director of marketing for NYCB had pushed for me to accept the invitation to do Dance, Magic, Dance! since she thought it would be great publicity for the company. I was close to the bottom of the hierarchy in the corps de ballet, so I hadn’t wanted to make waves and went along with the plan. Much to my surprise, I’d enjoyed the experience—excluding the public embarrassment my partner had dished out to me—and had been thrilled to be asked back for a second season. When I accepted, I promised myself that I wouldn’t let the celebrity they paired me with this time talk me into anything outside what was required for the show.

“Oh, yeah.” Juliette cringed. “I remember reading about that in the gossip rags.”

“I never should have given him a chance. He was a lousy dance partner who refused to take my advice even though I was the expert the show paired him with.” I swept my hand down the front of my body. “He spent more time trying to get handsy with me than actually practicing, which is why we got voted out so early.”

Nancy’s nostrils flared. “And then he had the nerve to take her to a club for their first date, neglecting to tell her that he'd already invited his harem to join him at his VIP table.”

“The worst part of it all was the spin they put on the story after that paparazzi guy got the picture of us.” I sighed and shook my head. “Since I was sitting at the end of the booth so I could make a quick getaway, they said that I was being jealous and if I had put more effort into our dancing instead of making googly eyes at him, maybe we would have done better.”

“Which was totally unfair,” Juliette cried. “You're an amazing dancer, and the only reason you guys got voted out was because he sucked donkey balls.”

I shrugged. “I couldn't do it all by myself.”

“Okay, but hear me out,” Nancy pleaded as she tapped away at the screen of her phone. “This guy is the opposite of Jake the snake.” She turned her phone so I could see the screen, where the gorgeous face of one of my possible dance partners was displayed. With his thick dark hair, brown eyes, chiseled jawline, and tall body roped with lean muscles, most women would’ve been thrilled at the opportunity to dance with Hale Bucannon. “Not only does he understand the value of putting in effort at practice, but his name hasn't been linked with any women in the gossip rags. From what I can tell, he’s more of an all work, no fun kind of guy.”

Just looking at a picture of him made my panties damp, which meant Hale was dangerous to me. Maybe I’d get lucky, and they’d put me with someone else. Because keeping things purely professional between us would be difficult if I reacted to him the same way in person. The last thing I needed was Nancy putting ideas in my head about the guy before I even met him. I wasn’t going to risk getting burned again, especially not in the public eye. My safest bet was to stay as far away from the guy as I could when I got to LA. “Even if we are paired together, and he turns out to be the perfect man, nothing will happen between us.”

1

Hale

I wasn’t usually a gambler off the football field. I didn’t need adrenaline rushes to make me feel alive, didn’t have a macho drive to take a dare, and I definitely didn’t give in when my PR rep harassed me to date so they had “something” to say about me in the press. If they wanted a story on me, they could talk about my prowess on the field.

So I was still trying to figure out how the fuck I’d let myself get roped into being a contestant on the reality dancing show, Dance, Magic, Dance! Granted, my teammates had ganged up on me and talked my adorable twin nieces into making a bet with me…the bastards.

If I won, I would donate the money I was paid to a research foundation for spina bifida—a condition my niece Brooke was born with. And every member of my team, including the coaching staff and other departments, would match it. If I lost, I had to dress up like a fairy every time we visited a children’s hospital or rehab for the next season.

Tags: Fiona Davenport Romance
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