‘No.’ He moved closer, answering her firmly. ‘You’re upset. What’s wrong?’ Adrenalin surged, his muscles flooded with aggression-filled strength. ‘Has one of the players done something?’
‘What? No!’
He believed her, but he also heard the raw emotion cracking her voice. He’d seen plenty of fear in his job and he saw it in her now. The way she was clutching her hands together, as if she was trying to stop herself fleeing. Beneath the silver glitter her eyes were wide with terror.
Concern gripped him. ‘Please tell me what’s wrong.’ He couldn’t breathe, holding himself back from drawing her hard against him so he could keep her safe from whatever, wherever, the danger was.
‘I’m fine. Really. Just having a breather. Lots of perfume in that room, you know?’
She was babbling. Why was she babbling?
‘I wanted a walk. You know. Clear the head.’ She looked at him with eyes so huge they were manic. ‘I’m nervous.’
Finally he could release the screaming tension in his lungs. He was so relieved, but he knew better than to laugh at her. ‘You’re a great dancer. You’ll be fine.’
She shook her head violently, her hair streaming out like a gold and bronze waterfall. ‘I’ve never done it before.’
He groaned. ‘Roxie, now is not the time to talk—’
‘No.’ She actually managed a laugh. ‘Not that. I’ve never danced in front of an audience.’
‘What?’ She had to be kidding. Never danced before an audience?
She was still talking—faster and faster. ‘The stadium is full. And there’s the broadcast—all those viewers at home. I’ve not been to a dance class in years. I did ballet as a girl but when Grandma had the stroke, I gave up classes. I’m self-taught from dance vids and music clips. I’m not good enough to be alongside those professionally trained girls with all their experience. Who am I kidding? I can’t do it.’
‘Yes, you can.’ Gabe’s head was spinning with all that info, with a ton more questions.
But she just shook her head wildly, her body trembling, on the edge of making a run for it.
‘Just imagine you’re in the garden and there’s no one there.’ He stepped closer and kept his voice calm. ‘You dance incredibly in the garden.’ He’d watched her so often, he knew how damn well she moved. A million times better than any of those other girls—she totally had edge.
She looked even more panicked. ‘I can’t do it.’
Fear was irrational. And it was obvious his rational attempt to reassure wasn’t going to work. But he wasn’t about to tranquillise her, which left only one course of action—distraction.
And this was purely to offer comfort, right? There was comfort in a cuddle. That was all it would be. He could manage that and only that. For sure. Because there was no way he couldn’t touch her now. He didn’t have the strength not to. Didn’t have the desire not to. All that mattered was making her feel that little bit better.
Roxie was almost in tears. Trying so hard to blink them back because she was going to ruin her make-up if they spilt over. And she hadn’t cried in months—she couldn’t cry over something as silly as this. She held her hands together, pressing them tight just below her ribs. Wanting to stop shaking, unable to control her agitated movements. The more she tried to calm down, the more upset she got. And having him here wasn’t helping. She’d been getting a grip ‘til now. Now she was all over the place.
She wanted him to clear off. Only now he’d moved right in front of her.
‘Roxie.’ He gripped her shoulders hard.
Startled, she lifted her head to look into his face.
‘Roxie,’ he said again, the tone of his voice totally changing.
Her whole system froze for a moment and then slowly focused on him. But he didn’t say anything more, just the smallest of smiles appeared on his face. Fascinated, she watched, because that smile wasn’t one she’d seen from him before—that smile was full of naughtiness, full of promise. His eyes reflected it, darkening with only a slim gleam shining from the very centre. She held her breath as his expression deepened wickedly. It looked as if the rake in him had been released.
One hand released her shoulder, moving close to cup her jaw, his broad palm pressed almost the length of her throat. He held her firmly. Her breathing slowed as she watched him move so slowly nearer. His touch seemed to drug her, replacing the anxiety twitching through her veins with a sluggish warmth instead. She couldn’t move—not to encourage, or to run away. She could only wait. And want.
His thumb moved, stroking, the pressure of his fingers increasing on the vulnerable pulse point in her neck. She felt the release of his breath over her face. Her eyelids fluttered, blocking the visual overload from him being so close, so her body could focus on the touch, the scent.
His kiss was soft and not anywhere near enough to her lips. She felt the pull deep within—the ember that had been smouldering for so long was blown into a flame with just those too few touches.
‘You’re going to be amazing,’ he whispered, almost crooning, as his lips touched her skin. ‘Just amazing.’ He kissed along her jaw. ‘You are amazing.’
Heat flooded her system, galvanising her again—only this time the energy pulsing through her was born not of fear, but of desire. She wanted closer, wanted to cling. The one thing she’d wanted for days was now in front of her. Teasing, tormenting, captivating—just out of reach.
‘Go out and have fun,’ he said.
She didn’t care about the damn dancing any more. The fun was right here.
‘Kiss me,’ she said softly.
He did, but not where she wanted. Another series of kisses down her throat. He brushed the swathe of hair from her neck, clearing the path for his lips with skilful strokes of his fingertips.
She leaned closer, felt one hand at her back as he adjusted to take her weight, crushing her to his length. She threw her head back, abandoned, as he pressed ever more passionate kisses across her skin. His teeth nipped, his tongue flickered to soothe the tiny scratches, his hands held. She discovered just how much she loved to be held by him. How much she’d wanted it. She yielded to him completely.
‘Roxie,’ his tone warned, his voice rasping.
Her body burned for more. ‘Kiss me properly.’ She wanted his mouth on hers. She wanted to be absorbed entirely in his embrace.
She could feel the acceleration in his breathing as his abdomen was sealed to hers, could feel the hunger rising as his kisses swooped lower, across her chest, down to the curve of her amplified breasts. He licked down the deep vee of her Lycra top. She felt the hardening in his body as hers softened—his bulging erection insistent against her belly.
‘Gabe,’ she begged.
He dragged his mouth from her skin. ‘I’ll kiss you properly after the show.’ A hot, rough mutter.
Her heart banged. ‘No.’ She rolled her hips against his, teasing the only way she could. ‘Now.’
Both his hands gripped her butt, holding her still—flush against his strained jeans. ‘After.’
‘No,’ she sighed, rubbing against him. The tiniest of movements that his grip allowed, but enough to send her to the brink of ecstasy. ‘Please.’
‘You’re going to be late,’ he groaned, his mouth dropping to her collarbone again, his pelvis rocking powerfully against hers. ‘You can’t be late.’
‘Don’t stop.’ She didn’t care how desperate she sounded.
He moved against her once more, his kisses frantic on her skin, his groan harsh in her ears. Her nipples screamed for his mouth to cover them, the hunger in her womb was all heat. Oh, she wanted him, wanted, wanted, wanted.
‘Please kiss me,’ she begged. ‘Please.’
But then, with a set jaw he stepped back. ‘After the show.’
Panting, she couldn’t believe it. She shook her head, but was too breathless to plead more. He took her upper arm in a firm grip and walked, swiftly guiding her back down the corridor towards the changing
room. He pushed the door open but kept walking—leaving her.
‘There you are!’ Chelsea called from inside. ‘I was wondering.’
Roxie had no choice but to go in. So warm, so excited, so amazed. Slowly her smile spread. He’d changed his mind. He was hers. No way could he deny them now. She’d felt the way he shook for her, how hard, how strong his hunger was.
‘Ready?’ Chelsea asked. ‘You look great.’
A quick glance in the mirror showed sparkling eyes, her cheeks glowing. Blood racing. Every cell singing in excitement. And her make-up still perfect.
‘I am so ready.’ She beamed. She couldn’t wait for it to be over.
In the distance, the music thumped, amping the crowd higher. She heard the calls, the whistles. She laughed aloud as they ran through the tunnel and out onto the pitch. The noise burst into her. It was crazy, it was fun and it was only the beginning. She moved fast, her body fluid, free, totally relaxed, zinging on the anticipation. She’d never loved dancing so much. Never felt so aware of her body.