Seven Day Fiance: A Love and Games Novel (Entangled Bliss) Page 13
A strange expression washed over Cane’s face and he glanced at the dance floor. Nodding subtly, as if talking to himself, he turned back and said, “Teach me?”
Excitement bubbled in her tummy, spreading through her veins. She loved dancing, but more than that, she loved being in Cane’s arms. She bit her lip as he held out his hand and she placed hers in it. Warmth enveloped her skin, stirring up the blood until she was sure her pulse matched the upbeat tempo. “Just don’t step on my feet, city boy.”
At the edge of the dance floor, Angelle found them a spot a little ways from the crowd. Cajun dancing could be as easy or as complicated as you wanted to make it. As a beginner, one who had a heck of a lot of pride, she figured she’d go light on Cane. Especially since people were already eyeing them with curiosity.
“Okay, so we’ll start with the open-handed position,” she told him. “From here, we can do several easy moves you’ve probably seen before. You’ll look like a pro in no time.”
He chuckled as if he doubted it, but she ignored him. With two older brothers, she’d seen enough macho behavior to last her a lifetime. Cane was worried about failing—whether it was because he didn’t want to look stupid in front of the town or her, she didn’t know. But it didn’t matter, either, because what he failed to realize was that Angie was a damn fine teacher.
“Now, old-school dancing is a bit different, but with the Cajun swing and Zydeco, you want rhythm. Your body should be fluid and bop to the beat.” Elbows bent and close to her sides, she took his hands and swung them along with the tempo. He raised an eyebrow, and she rolled her eyes. “You’re a musician, so don’t even tell me you can’t find the beat.”
Cane chuckled and then swung his arms, flawlessly finding the rhythm. They added the feet, pumping with a bounce step, and the amused lightness on his face filled her with so much happiness she thought she’d burst. For a time, Cajun dancing had defined her. The dance floor had been the one place she let herself go, where she didn’t care who her family was or what people expected of her. She lost herself in the lively music and the fast-paced steps. And now, she was sharing it with Cane.
This was the icing on the cake of an already perfect day.
Once the basic step was solid, Angelle quickly taught Cane key moves like the Sweetheart, the Hip Turn, and the Turn-Under. And after several minutes of practice, delightful moments filled with missteps, laughter, and a whole lot of tingles, Angie declared him ready for his dance floor debut.
“If it makes you happy, angel, I’ll do just about anything. I believe I owe you a date from the auction.” Cane looked to the crowd of colorfully dressed couples spinning, shuffling, and sliding along the plywood. “But you have to know I’m gonna be a bull in a china shop out there.”
“No, you won’t.” While it was true they wouldn’t be winning any dance awards tonight, after only a few songs, Cane was really doing well. “And yes, it would make me happy.”
She smiled brightly, feeling a strange surge of confidence. Cane’s gaze glided over her face, a grin pulling at his mouth, and he pressed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “Then lead on, tiny dancer,” he said, his voice teasing.
Hand in hand, still smiling, they walked out onto the true dance floor. Men and women she’d known all her life winked as they glided past, and Angelle knew what they were thinking. A young couple in love. Angie bit her lip when they reached the center.
Grinning mischievously, Cane took her hands in his. And then, they began to dance.
As they swirled around the floor, Angie felt like she was in a movie. A movie that actually showed Cajun people right, instead of a bunch of toothless twits like on Waterboy. They weren’t perfect. Cane still stumbled and got confused. One time, he even stepped on her toes. But it was in those mistakes that Angelle lost a bit more of her heart. He was trying, trying for her, and he was there, for her. The sexy, intelligent, witty playboy before her was willing to make an ass out of himself for the sake of the cause…and because it made her happy. That was worth more than a bazillion blue ribbons and championships.
When the song ended, Cane pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. Leather, woodsy cologne, and yummy man filled her head, as his pulse beat against her cheek.
“That was fun,” he said into her hair. He kissed the top of her head, but he didn’t move. He seemed perfectly content just to hold her, standing stock still in the middle of the dance floor. And Angelle had zero complaints.
The band announced they were taking a break, and a familiar country tune played through the speakers. Cane leaned back, skimmed his fingers down her arms until he met her hands, and said, “How about we dance this one my way?”
His voice was low and seductive, like the notes of the song. The way the sound affected her, Angie was sure she’d have agreed to anything, which was good, since Cane didn’t wait for her permission.
Gaze locked on hers, he walked backward, pulling her out of the way of the other couples. Along the edge, with shadows flickering over his face, Cane slid one of her arms around his neck, and then the other, before slipping his own around her waist. Then, holding her firmly against him, he began to move.
And oh, how he moved.
This wasn’t Cajun dancing. Angelle wasn’t sure this could be called dancing at all. But it was the sexiest thing she’d ever done. The way he held her in his arms, gently, like she was precious, yet tightly, like he never wanted to let her go, had her heart in her throat. The feel of his hips swiveling and brushing against hers sent shivers skating over her body. And the way his eyes didn’t stray once left Angie feeling he could see straight to her soul.
Dancing with Brady had never felt like this. With him, the most she’d ever felt was warm and safe. Comfortable. Not as if she could go up in flames at any moment. That was how she knew with every zinging nerve in her body that she’d been right earlier—she was falling for this surprising man.
After months of fighting the tension snapping between them, one week alone with Cane put the beat down on every single one of her defenses. His reputation, her prejudices, and the worry over her heart. That ship had sailed. She’d fallen for her own lie. Now, there was only one thing left to do.
Okay, there were several things left to do, but one held very high priority for her tonight.
“You know, you really shouldn’t look at me like that.” Cane’s rough voice sent a fresh shot of electricity down her spine, straight into her toes.
“And how am I looking at you?” she asked, knowing full well, but wanting to hear him say it.
“Like you want me to wrap those pretty little legs around my waist and haul you out to my truck.” His mouth twitched as if he was trying to make a joke, but his heavy-lidded eyes were almost black, and his voice had grown deeper. More rough. Clearing it, he said, “And you shouldn’t look at me like that unless you’re willing to act on it.”
Angelle’s stomach bottomed out. Her breathing stuttered.
This was her moment.
A choice between finally taking a real chance or turning tail and running. The next words out of her mouth would determine if she was ready to embrace the woman she wanted to be or if she’d fall back into the same old trap that had held her for years. Fear.
No virgin in her right mind wouldn’t be at least a little scared in this situation. Cane Robicheaux wasn’t just experienced—if talk held true, he’d practically written the book on how to pleasure a woman. But her cousin had been right: she wasn’t the same girl anymore. She’d finally gone after the career she’d always wanted. She’d sought out the freedom she’d craved. And now was her chance to prove just how audacious she’d become.
Exhaling long and slow, she raised her head and said, “Maybe I’m more than willing.”
He froze. Just stopped dancing, right on the shadowed edge of the floor.
Cane stared at her, looking deep into her eyes as if searching for the punch line. But she wasn’t joking. Angelle looked back confidently, willing him to se
e the truth. Well, maybe not the whole truth. She’d eventually have to mention the small fact that this time would be her first time, but she was aiming for that to be a heat-of-the-moment type of confession.
The slow song ended, replaced by a faster one. Couples simply danced around them, chuckling at the duo locked in an eye war on the dance floor. Until finally, thankfully, that sexy smile began curling Cane’s mouth. And when the dimple appeared, the sight that always hit her smack in the chest, the hallelujah chorus echoed in her head.
This was happening. This was really, truly, going to happen.
Oh, crap.
Just like that, Angie’s good friends the horseflies came back, only this time they partnered with a flock of buzzards to dance the two-step in her tummy. This wasn’t a simple case of nerves. This went beyond that. It went beyond performance anxiety, too. But as she looked into Cane’s handsome face, soaked in the warmth of the smile just for her, Angelle knew the reward would be worth it.
“Mind if I cut in?”
Angelle blinked out of her Cane-coma and discovered Brady, smiling awkwardly with his hands in his pockets in front of them. She wondered how long he’d been standing there.
“Angie and I used to be partners,” he said, glancing at Cane. “And it’s been awhile since we danced. I’d hope that after all this, we can still be friends.” Brady shrugged. “Friends dance, right?”
Angelle felt Cane’s heated stare like a brand on her skin. With a slow nod, he said, “Sure. Friends dance.” He glanced to the side, jaw flexing as he did. “But I’m gonna need a minute before I’m willing to let her go.”
Brady’s mouth tightened. “I’ll just go grab a beer.” He transferred his gaze to her and said, “I’ll be right back.”
His face was serious, attention laser-focused, but she simply nodded, already following Cane as he walked farther into the shadows. He ducked behind a post and drew her into his arms. She grinned. Anyone who would’ve been watching would know what he was doing. Cane was staking his claim. It wasn’t blatant; any onlooker would have to go out of their way to watch. But it was a message. A clear one.
And what a lovely message it is.
Excitement snapped under her skin as Cane’s head descended. A voice whispered, is this just for show? But Angelle ignored it, eager for another one of his kisses. The last thing Angelle saw before she closed her eyes was a fierce look masking his features…then his mouth touched hers, and she was lost.
Cane’s mouth was heaven and hell rolled into one. A delicious torment she never wanted to end. The firm pressure mixed with the soft, skillful nibbles made her head spin. His tongue dipped inside as his long fingers raked over her back. Every muscle he touched sang under the glorious pressure, even as her lower half clenched, wanting more.
Mini-explosions went off in her insides. Nerves pulsed. Shockwaves reverberated down to her toes. Body parts that had laid dormant for twenty-six years sprang to life. A sound between a squeal and a groan left her mouth, and a rumble emanated from within Cane’s chest. She was like a blazing sign saying, take me now, and the beautiful thing was, he would be doing just that, very soon.
Even as she thought it, fear crept in, but she whisked that away. She had plenty of time for that later. Right now, she wanted to focus on the crazy sensations coursing through her body. Cane’s mouth curved in a smile as his hands cupped her backside and yanked her roughly against him. Oh my. The gesture was dominant, possessive. But she loved it.
Because tonight she would be his.
She whimpered when he tore his mouth away, pressing his forehead against hers. Ragged breath hit her lips as his hooded eyes penetrated hers.
“Go have your fun with Brady,” he told her, fingers brushing her hair away from her face. She was positive it was knotted and standing on end, but she didn’t give a damn. It was worth it. “You two give the people a show. But while you’re in his arms on the dance floor, remember whose arms you’re gonna be in tonight.”
Cane kissed her again, hard and hungry—passionately—and when she went to cling to his shoulders, he stepped back, taking his support with him.
Angelle sank against the beam behind her. Her legs wobbled like a newborn foal and her arms were shaking. Was she supposed to dance like this?
She drew a badly needed breath, leaning her head against the wooden frame, and a wicked grin crossed Cane’s face. Oh, he knew exactly what he’d done. That had been his intent. The message hadn’t been for Brady—it had been for her.
“We’ll pick this up later,” he promised, and just like that, she was more than ready for round two.
Bring it on, city boy.
…
After kissing Angelle senseless, Cane watched Brady tug her onto the dance floor. Jealousy pitched and roiled in his gut, but he didn’t look away. He didn’t have to. Despite the ease with which the former lovers fell into each other’s arms, Cane knew whose bed she’d be in tonight.
His.
Anticipation had him antsy, eager to drag her away before she changed her mind. But he wouldn’t rush this. He’d give Brady this moment. After all, it had to be hell losing a woman like Angelle. And Cane was man enough to share her attention for a few minutes. Especially since she wasn’t really even his.
So it didn’t matter that they looked good together, spinning and laughing as their hands formed little windows to stare into each other’s eyes. The way their feet pistoned up and down in sync, hinting at a shared history, didn’t rankle. And when the other couples widened the circle, clapping for the reunion of Cane’s woman and her ex, it didn’t even faze him.
It certainly didn’t have him wanting to punch a hole through the post behind his head.
Envy, jealousy, and possession were foreign emotions to him. They were for henpecked men in relationships. They didn’t suit him, and Cane didn’t like them one bit. Women generally came easy for Cane, but Angelle had made him work. That was all this was. Soon, those unwanted feelings would be a thing of the past.
The all-consuming intensity with which he wanted Angelle would be gone, too. This unmatched craving was merely the result of long months imagining what it would be like with his favorite redhead. But after he spent a night holding her in his arms, and once he heard her scream his name, and saw that beautiful, sated look cross her angelic face, the need to have her, to own her, would fade.
It had to.
Things would go back to normal. In three days, they’d drive home to Magnolia Springs as friends. Friends who happened to have shared a crazy week and a hell of a night between the sheets. Guilt pricked his conscience, but he ignored it. Angelle knew the score. She may have a crush, but there was no way a woman like her could want forever with a man like him anyway. When this was over, she’d return to her normal life as a firefighter, only now with her family off her back, and the hottest damn memory she could imagine. Who knows, maybe their hoax would even push her to start dating again.
Cane didn’t want to analyze why that thought made him see red, so instead he focused on the life he would go back to. Days filled with easy women, no commitments, no attachments, and no emotion.
He really didn’t want to analyze why that life suddenly felt so empty.
Chapter Thirteen
The barn had always been Angelle’s sanctuary. A quiet place to go and think, to get away from the world, especially after Amber died. Back when her family raised horses, her best friend had lived in one of the stalls. She’d feed Diamond carrots and confess her darkest secrets, and he’d agree with his dark, soulful eyes that the world did indeed suck sometimes. Later in high school and into college, when her parents grew older and it became more of a storage shed, the barn had still been her safe place. Many nights Angie would sneak away to sleep up in the loft, surrounded by memories and the sweet smell of hay and aged wood.
It was during those nights that she planned her first time.
The entire thing, laid out.
The lighting (scented candles, naturally), the
bedding (the soft comforter from her bed), and the soundtrack. Oh yes, a soundtrack was needed. It was the most crucial aspect. She’d seen enough romance movies to know the right song set the mood. It became a strange hobby of sorts through the years, fiddling with different songs, selecting only the best ones. A little “U Got It Bad” by Usher, “How Do I Live” by LeAnn Rimes, even “I’ll Make Love to You” by Boys II Men, and “Let’s Get It On” by Barry White.
All slow and seductive…and completely wrong now.
None of those songs fit Cane or the slightly manic feelings he triggered inside her. He was more like “Wild Thing” by Tone-Loc, making her a whole lot of “Firework” by Katy Perry. Right now, Angie felt as if her colors—along with everything else—were about to burst. Like a live wire was sitting just under her skin, buzzing and humming. Electric. But a plan was a plan, and a girl didn’t wait twenty-six freaking years for something to happen only to get sidetracked at the very last second. Tonight would be absolutely perfect. Just like her fantasy.
“Um, I have a few things I want to do first,” she said as Cane flicked off the engine. They’d ridden home from the festival in tense silence, but unlike on the drive from Magnolia Springs, this had been the good kind of tension. The kind that made Angelle’s tummy tight with anticipation, anxiety, and excitement. “Do you mind waiting out here?”
With only the faint glow from the streetlight, Cane’s face was in shadows. She couldn’t see his expression, but his voice, low and raspy, had her wanting to strip naked right there. “Darlin’, I’ve waited five months for this night. I think I can handle a few more minutes.”
A strangled sound, half-breath and half-whimper, passed from her lips. This man was dangerous. She’d always known that. But for once, Angie was feeling a little reckless herself.
“I-I’ll be right back,” she said, tossing her seat belt aside and throwing open the passenger door. She didn’t need to see Cane’s face to know he was grinning.