Of course I knew about bachata. Thanks to Milia, I'd spent an hour with Eduardo, Seattle's premier bachata instructor, learning how to do figure eights with my hips and dance the basic eight steps. Had I known about the Latin American dance before this afternoon? Absolutely not.
Milia had warned me. "Bachata isn't for wimps or wallflowers. It takes a confident woman to pull it off. It's all flirtation and innuendo.
"This is a test," she'd said. "Don't blow it. You have to sell the hip movement. Sell the feeling of sexual heat.
"Use it to test the chemistry between you. Let him catch a whiff of your perfume. Get a feel of your soft, silky leg. Why do you think I dressed you in a skintight dress?" She leaned toward me. "To give him ideas. So he can see the goods and, more importantly, the way the goods move."
She'd watched me closely. I didn't give her the satisfaction of flinching.
"The basic, beginning steps don't require complicated or dangerous lifts. Or jumps. Or dips. It's all about the hips for the girls and the shoulders for the men.
"And sex," she'd said. "No giggling. No faltering. Look him in the eye and sell it!"
Then she'd introduced me to Eduardo, who pushed me for over an hour, until I could make figure eights with my hips to his satisfaction and do the basic steps and the booty roll and body roll without thinking. One, two, three, tap. Five, six, seven, tap. The beat was drilled into my head.
"Tonight, when you see Eduardo for your lesson, don't give away that you know him," Milia had warned. "Surprise is all in the eyes and the subtle movements of the face. Watch me. Like this."
She'd made me practice until I'd mastered the look.
When I walked into the private lesson on Riggins' arm and came face to face with Eduardo, I wasn't surprised. But I sure looked delighted when Eduardo introduced himself and began the lesson.
Riggins leaned into me and whispered in my ear, "Are you ready for this?"
"Just how good of a dancer are you?" I said. "You sound way too eager."
He grinned. "Try to keep up."
"I'm a quick learner."
"You better be. This is a fun dance." His eyes sparkled with challenge.
Good thing for me I liked a challenge. And I had the surprise upper hand—that secret lesson.
Eduardo took my hand and positioned me next to Riggins in front of the mirrored wall. "You two make a nice looking couple. Let's see if you can dance as good as you look.
"First, Haley, the basics for the lady. For you, the bachata is all in the hips. You make a figure eight. Like this." He demonstrated.
Riggins leaned against the wall, watching with an amused expression.
"Like this?" I gave it an intentionally lame first attempt.
Riggins laughed. "You call that a figure eight?"
"Let's see you do it, Your Grace. It's harder than it looks."
He stepped away from the wall. "Is that a challenge?"
I raised an eyebrow.
He moved his hips, making a pretty decent figure eight. "I don't have quite the right build for this. But this is how it's done."
"Not bad," I said.
Eduardo stepped in. "No, no, no. For the gentleman, it's all in the shoulders. The man shakes his shoulders. The lady shakes her hips." Eduardo demonstrated again.
"You mean like this?" Riggins did the shoulder-thing expertly.
"Very good!" Eduardo clapped.
"Show off," I said. But the truth was, that shoulder-thing was hot. "I'd like to see you do that again."
He laughed.
"He can do it for you while you learn the dance. First, we start with the side by side. We just dance side by side. Very simple." He positioned us next to each other facing a mirror. "One, two, three, tap, five, six, seven tap. Haley, you lift your hip on the tap. Don't forget the figure eights as you move."
Though I could make hip figure eights in my sleep now, I let Eduardo put his hands on my hips and move them through the motions, laughing with him as I did, and casting sweet glances at Riggins as he practiced the shoulder thing. I wasn't the one who was supposed to be getting hot, but somehow I was.
Riggins was not only easy to talk to and fun to laugh with, he was eye candy, as well. Looking in the mirror at the pair of us, I couldn't help thinking the world would always see us as mismatched.
"Let's put it to music." Eduardo put some on. A slower Latin song. A beginner's song. One that gave us time to think and concentrate on our moves.
We danced, side by side, casting sidelong glances and smiling at each other in the mirror. I was keeping up, doing the steps correctly, only occasionally making an intentional misstep to throw Riggins off and let him think I'd never had a lesson.
Riggins moved easily and athletically. Sensually. His smile, the light in his eyes, and the way he watched my hips gave me goose bumps all the way to my toes.
"You're catching on quickly." Riggins' gaze held mine, then fell to my hips.
"Like what you see? Watch this." I turned my back to the mirror and did the hip-shaking figure eight, giving him a good look at my butt. I glanced over my shoulder and grinned at him. "Sidney taught me that move."
"Good for Sidney." His pupils were large, his eyes dark. "I taught myself this. From the Internet." He shook his shoulders and moved to the beat.
I watched him with an intentionally openly lustful look. "Now I know why they call you Your Grace. You're very graceful."
"I am, aren't I?" He laughed. "And that was bad."
I grinned, intoxicated by his rich laughter and the way he moved.
He caught my hands in his and spun me to face him, balancing my hands just on top of his palms, but not catching them with his thumbs. He held me nearly at arm's length, free to go. But totally captivated by him, wishing he'd pull me close.
"Let's try this face to face. Try to keep up with me." He looked over his shoulder to Eduardo. "Something a little faster, maestro."
Eduardo shrugged and put on another song that was faster, sexier, edgier. Eduardo and I had rehearsed not only the dance, but the entire lesson plan. Milia had laid it out like a battle strategy. And now Riggins was going off script. I heard Milia's purr in my ear, "Let the man lead. Follow where he goes. Riggins will push you to the limits if you let him."
I tried to get back on track. The first part of the face-to-face dance was the tease. Hold him at arm's length and tantalize him. Make him want more. So much more.
"One, two, three, tap!" Eduardo called out.
"This is crap." Riggins slid me into closed position, clasped my hand so he could lead—and believe me, I would have followed him anywhere—and looked deep into my eyes. "Much better. Don't you think?"
Damn. He'd jumped directly to the touch. Hold him close and let him feel what you've got to offer.
He nuzzled my neck. "You smell nice. You smell hot."
Why was I the one whose mouth was going dry? Pulled close to his hard body, it was hard to concentrate on the dance. Hard to think about anything but him.
There was a next step in this plan. What was it?
Riggins drove backwards, swinging those broad shoulders of his and smiling into my eyes. He pulled me forward, dancing backward. Led me sideways. To the left. To the right.
Where he led, I followed. Thanks to Eduardo, who'd taught me how to read the cues. "Look at the gentleman's chest and shoulders," he'd said. "They will always tell you where he's headed. Listen to his body language. Feel the pressure he puts on your hands. Wait for him to toss them up when he's ready for a turn or a twirl."
Looking at Riggins' chest and shoulders was no hardship. He was the best built duke I'd ever known.
Riggins pushed me faster. Harder. He pulled me in. I put my hand on his shoulder. Looked into his eyes. Smiled seductively, mimicking Milia. And tried to read what he was thinking on his face, the way she'd also taught me, wishing I was as expert as she was.
What did I see there? Desire? Or did I only imagine it? Could I use the moves Milia had insisted I learn
to create it?
He tossed me out again. I was breathing hard. Working hard to follow his lead. He danced faster. I followed. Matching him pace for pace. Misstepping more often.
He gave my hand a gentle toss, signaling a turn. I went with it, followed his move, caught his hand, and let him spin me. He pulled me close and placed his hand at the small of my back where it rested hot and large.
I was breathing hard, but shallowly. I was excited. The dance was suggestive. But we hadn't even reached the best parts yet.
He pulled my hips close to his. Our eyes met. He smiled into mine. There was that challenge again. What was he up to?
He ran his hand through my hair. Put his knee between my legs. Rolled his hips in a figure eight into mine.
My breath caught. He wasn't playing fair. He'd taken control and was teasing me.
I fought back, cupping his head. Pulling his face toward mine. Figure-eighting my hips, grinding against his. I put my arms around his waist.
He took my hips in his hands.
This hadn't been in the plan. He'd taken me so far off track there was no going back.
He dipped me back, catching me nearly off guard.
I clutched him and looked deep into his eyes. "Latin dance is an odd choice for a British duke."
"American billionaire," he corrected. "It's hot at all the local clubs."
"It's hot in here." I came up slowly, wrapping myself around him, ending with my arms around his neck, gazing into his eyes as if I was expecting a kiss.
He smiled and tossed me out to arm's length. Casting me away? Or throwing off temptation?
Eduardo had faded to the background. It was just Riggins and me dancing now.
I gasped, surprised by his sudden move. Damn if I was going to let him win this battle.
Eduardo coughed and I remembered his coaching earlier, "Land your man with the motion of your hips and your excellent booty roll."
According to Eduardo, no hetero guy was immune to a perfectly executed booty roll. Then again, he was Latino. Latinos loved their booty. Comparatively, I was a flat-butted white girl. Milia had done her best to give me the illusion of booty. It would have to do.
Eduardo had said it wasn't the amount of booty you had. It was the way you moved it. And I had laughed, hoping he was right.
Add in a super-hot body roll and love was in the air. Oh, what the heck?
I lifted my chin, took a step to the right, and rolled my booty as Riggins watched. Stuck my butt right out there, swirled it around. Took a step to my left and broke into a body roll. Rolled from the top of my head, through my shoulder and body, shook my breasts, rolled through my waist and hips. Then repeated in reverse.
Riggins took my hand and pulled me back close to him, pulling me in so he could whisper in my ear. "As I thought. Milia gave you a lesson earlier, didn't she?"
My eyes went wide. I'd blown my cover.
He laughed as the song ended.
Eduardo clapped. "Excellent! Excellent!" Eduardo grinned. "Two of the fastest learners I've had. All I did was teach you the basic step and look where you've taken it."
I glanced at Riggins and we both broke out laughing. I couldn't stop thinking how dangerously attracted I was to him. I didn't want the evening to end. I didn't want the relationship to end. I would have done just about anything to keep it going.
"Again?" Eduardo asked. "More challenging music? I have some very nice selections."
"Again!" Riggins and I said in unison.
When he took my hand again, I felt sublimely happy. Like Cinderella at the ball. But all too soon, the clock would chime midnight. And I wouldn't become a duchess. I'd just go back to being plain old Haley Hamilton. Or would I?
Damn you, Dead Duke, for messing up my life.
Outside after the lesson, Riggins clasped my hands and turned to face me. He stared deeply into my eyes until my heart fluttered wildly. "I saved the best for last."
My heart beat out of control. Was it too soon for a declaration of his undying love?
He smiled into my eyes. "We have a good lead on who Sid's biological mom is. Now it's just a matter of locating her."
My heart stopped. My eyes misted with tears of joy. I couldn't speak.
Riggins started explaining. Something about facial-recognition software and his business partner Justin. A girl who used to clean at the orphanage and gave up her baby. How that girl was, in all likelihood, Sid's mom. I was almost too happy to hear him as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed me an old picture of a young Chinese girl with Sid's nose and expression.
I took the phone and held it close for a better look, barely daring to believe what I was seeing. Riggins may have "only" been a duke. But he was a prince.
Tears filled my eyes. The phone trembled in my hand. The woman looked enough like Sid that I believed…I hoped…I wanted this to be Sid's salvation so much.
Riggins was smiling at my happiness. I handed his phone back to him. He put it in his pocket and gently wiped a tear away as it slid down my cheek. He cupped my face, his hand large and warm on my cheek. His thumb stroking my chin.
I leaned into him.
His lips came down on mine, hot and tender at the same time. I had been kissed many times. But never like this. Never with this much skill and passion. Never with this much electricity in the air.
Maybe it was all the booty rolling. Maybe it was the joy at hearing such good news. All I knew was that I was falling in love with him.
At that moment, I made a decision—no matter what the Dead Duke did, I would never marry Riggins and have his baby. How could I spend my life in love with a man who didn't love me back? The torture may have been exquisite, but was too much to even imagine.
Chapter 12
Riggins
I shouldn't have kissed Haley. It had been a tactical mistake. I had been hot for her. What straight guy wouldn't be after smelling that perfume all evening and watching all those booty rolls? The girl could move. She was funny and fun to be with. A danger to me and my bachelor lifestyle.
Taking a woman to bed was easy. Dealing with the emotional aftermath with a girl like Haley was messy business. I'd known kissing her was the wrong move as soon as my lips came down on hers and I felt her trembling in my arms. The last thing I wanted was for her to fall in love with me.
I certainly couldn't afford to fall in love with her. Sex between us was out. It was only our first date. She would read too much into it.
The invitation to come home with me died on my lips. I took her home instead. And found myself alone in my room, wondering what the hell had happened. There was a chink in the cynical armor of my heart. I sure as hell meant to fix it. I didn't fall in love. I didn't let women get to me. She'd been vulnerable and I'd made her happy? So damn what? That wasn't the stuff of fairytales.
The only good news of the night, besides the fun we'd had together, was that after that kiss, Haley had suddenly become distant. Which suited me just fucking fine.
I needed her to reject me so we could both get on with our lives. I needed her to refuse to marry me.
I had settled into my home office to get some work done before bed, when my cell phone rang. It was my private investigator in China.
My heart raced as I took his call, eager to hear he'd found Sid's mom.
"Did you find her?" I put my feet up on my desk and leaned back in my chair.
"Bad news, Mr. Feldhem, Your Grace," my Chinese PI said in perfect English. "We found her, all right. In the cemetery. She's been dead ten years."
Shit.
"Did she leave behind any children?"
"No children. No siblings. You know China and the one-child policy. Families are small and die out quickly. Her parents are dead. She was an only. She left no issue. Except for the child she left at the orphanage. I'm sorry, Mr. Feldhem, duke, sir."
I rolled my eyes. The Chinese were no better at addressing a duke than my fellow Americans.
Haley
Sid was wai
ting up for me as I floated in from my date. She spoke before I could deliver my good news. "You're home." She frowned.
"What?"
"I was hoping you'd spend the night with His Grace." She was trying to be flippant, but her forehead was creased with concern.
"On the first date? We barely know each other."
Sid was in her pajamas. Her face was free of makeup, making her look young as she held her digital tablet. "But your date went so well—"
"How do you know?" I laughed, but it was plainly written on my face. I was going to hold this date in my memory forever.
"It's been trending on all the social media sites." She clutched the tablet to her chest. Talk about literally playing something close to the chest. "He took you out for seafood and then to a private dance lesson at The Millennium Ballroom. Did you like it?"
"It was wonderful!" I caught myself and wiped the rapturous expression off my face an instant too late. I cleared my throat to cover. "It was nice. It was a good thing Milia gave me a dance lesson earlier. You would have killed it." Though I hadn't done half bad.
I frowned. "It feels kind of creepy being followed around and having our date blasted all over social media before I even get home. Is that what's upset you?"
She pursed her lips, looking pained.
"Sid?"
She sighed and handed me her tablet. "Another woman, a British socialite, has come forward claiming she's an heir to the duchess. She says she's thrilled to discover she has another living biological relative. And that she'd like to meet you."
"Why?" I laughed.
Sid remained serious. "Haley, this isn't good."
"She can't get a share of Riggins'—"
"Can't she? Did the will say that you specifically had to marry him? Or will any descendent of the Dead Duchess do?"
I bit my lip. "I hadn't even considered that. Mr. Thorne told me I was the only one so the point was moot.
"Thorne and the Dead Duke were very thorough. She has to be a fake. Otherwise, she would have turned up in their search."
"She's claiming she was born out of wedlock and given up for adoption. And just recently discovered her real roots." Sid winced. "Riggins is the duke. He's the only Feldhem heir that matters to the Dead Duke. He has to be legitimate.