by Sharon Kay
Gin sighed. She didn’t want to be away from her sisters, but she’d done it for years. They kept in touch via text, email, and weekly video chats. And over the last several months those chats had gotten stranger.
My sisters have sex with demons. There, she said it. Well, not out loud. Ria would think she was crazy.
Then again, if she knew about Gin’s extra little ability, Ria’d cart her off to a psych ward in a heartbeat. No way could she share that part of her life with anyone except her sisters.
Nicole and Brooke ran around the city dispensing their own version of vigilante justice, which led them to their new boyfriends. Who weren’t human. They looked like human men, although a lot bigger, and they seemed nice. Her sisters tried every day to drag her into their world. They insisted she was part of it anyway, that she had no choice.
Gin didn’t buy that for a microsecond. Her path was helping people. On Earth. Regular human beings who lacked the most basic necessities.
“Miss B?” Ian’s reedy voice roused her from her thoughts. “May I have this dance?”
She smiled at her most determined, if not her most talented, student. He was totally crushing on Caitlyn, and was probably working up his nerve to ask her to dance. Gin resolved to give him a pep talk on the dance floor. “Absolutely, Ian.” She set her drink down and walked ahead of him to the center of the room.
Mathias paused in the doorway of the softly lit room and scented Ria immediately. His phone chimed in the breast pocket of his suit coat, and he pulled it out to see she had texted him a winking face.
Ria: Right on time.
He didn’t need to see her to guess she was dressed up and had at least one pair of simpering eyes glued to her. Don’t flirt too much, sis.
Ria had been deep under cover since early fall, when she had “transferred” to Gin’s university. Meeting up with Gin, the two had quickly become friends, which was the plan. Little did Gin know that her new buddy was one of the most lethal warriors among Arawn’s Watchers. Ria went everywhere Gin did. Sometimes Gin knew about it, sometimes not.
On the surface, his sister’s job seemed simple. Be a bodyguard. But she also had to earn Gin’s trust. And from the regular reports she gave to Arawn, she had accomplished that task with ease.
He looked down at his phone to see she had texted him an icon of a cocktail. He allowed a brief smile to play across his face. Who wouldn’t like Ria? She was smack in the middle of their family, born right after him, and a natural negotiator. With a family of six brothers and sisters, someone else always had something you wanted, or wanted something you had. Ria had a knack for getting her way without you even realizing it.
Gin couldn’t know that Mathias knew Ria. Not yet, anyway. He didn’t want to blow Ria’s op.
Mathias: Updates?
Ria: All good. Dance floor. Red dress. Can’t miss her.
Mathias tucked his phone away without glancing at his sister, who he could tell was near the bar, across the room to his left. Maybe when this job was done and Gin was working with her sisters instead of avoiding them, he could relax. Kick back in that big house that Nicole and Brooke had dubbed “Demon Central,” and shoot the shit with Ria. Right now, he wanted to meet the reluctant Solsti.
Virginia Rose. Her sisters had warned him not to use her given name. She went by Gin, maybe Ginny. “Don’t call her anything else. Not if you plan to have little demons one day,” Nicole had warned.
And the answer to that would be a hell no. His job took him to different corners of any given realm on any given week. A mate wasn’t in the plans, and young ones? Not happening.
He rolled his shoulders in his perfectly fitted Zegna suit. Striding into the room, he reached out with his senses, checking for any supernatural creatures. He detected only Ria and Gin. Excellent. He paused by a row of plastic Christmas trees and did a slow visual scan of the room.
Students and faculty filled the space. Completely expected, as this was a university function. The band members were all smiles and bright eyes. One student carefully set down his tenor saxophone and walked to the front of the band, trading places with the conductor. The energy of the band members changed as they focused on the new leader. He raised his hands and all eyes locked on him, waiting for his cue. The new conductor brought his hands down sharply and the room roared with exuberant sound.
The Latin music blasting from the horns grabbed Mathias’s attention, and a smile spread across his face. Just off a month-long assignment in Rio de Janiero, he knew samba. And salsa, cha-cha, and merengue. This was too much fun to resist. Hell with talking to Gin. He’d grab her for a dance.
Removing his suit coat, he draped it over a chair at an empty table. He scanned the excited couples on the dance floor, eyes zeroing in on the one female in red. Her back was toward him, the silver accents on her dress drawing his eyes from her shoulders down to her cute ass. Her partner looked like he was trying hard to cover up nerves. Had to be a student. Mathias crossed his arms in front of his chest and watched. Should be interesting.
The boy spun her, then missed a step. Gin’s head tilted to the side, as if reassuring her student. She probably got her feet stepped on a lot. They rotated in a beam of light projected from the ceiling, so that she danced in profile to Mathias. He’d seen photos of her, but looking at her now, they may as well have been old, fuzzy, and sepia-toned.
The female before him moved with the grace of a tiger. Tension vibrated from her body. The good kind, the kind that said she could own the whole dance floor. The kind that said she could go toe-to-toe with any ballroom pro. Her hips rolled and her toned arms linked with her partner’s, ready for his lead.
She moved through one of the colored beams of light and all the other dancers faded from his view. Her chestnut hair tumbled down her back, the light playing with subtle streaks of red. Another twirl, and he caught the vivid green of her eyes. In the next move, the perfect symmetry of her face.
He realized he had stalked right up to the edge of the dance floor, his feet moving of their own accord. All the other giggling dancers melted away as the music pulsed through the room. Gin’s partner seemed to know about three steps, and he was repeating them on an endless loop. Time to change that.
Mathias threaded his way between the couples until he stood next to his target. He tapped the boy on the shoulder. Two surprised pairs of eyes looked at him.
“May I cut in.” It wasn’t a question.
Gin’s eyebrows shot up.
“Uh, yeah, sure… Miss B?” The student released Gin’s hand, his eyes darting between her and Mathias.
“It’s okay, Ian. Thank you,” she said, giving the boy a smile.
Ian took a step back, then disappeared into the crowd.
Mathias took Gin’s right hand in his left and pulled her against him. As her other hand settled on his biceps, he murmured, “You dance beautifully.”
Wide green eyes stared up at him, flickering with a hint of a challenge as he moved them to the center of the floor. She doesn’t think I can dance. His inner pride roared with delight at the gauntlet she’d unwittingly thrown down. Miss B was about to get swept off her feet.
He twirled her. As she completed the rotation, he caught her hands and held them wide, opening her body toward him. Fuck, she was gorgeous. All perfect curves and a tiny waist. Her skin was warm, her entire body waiting for his lead. Mischief played across her face. He hadn’t convinced her of his skills yet.
She moved in sync with him, and he didn’t miss the sassy jut of her hip each time they opened fully to the side. He wanted to caress those hips. Every time she spun out from him, his muscles tensed to pull her back in.
Releasing her soft hand, he gave her the lead to spin. Cinnamon and orange swirled in the air, enticing and challenging. Lush red lips tugged into a smile. She’s enjoying this. He didn’t want to take his hands off her, and did a mental run-through of all the moves that required more contact. His hand wound around her waist as he tugged her back against
him. She fit so damn well.
Her hand settled on his shoulder like it belonged there and without hesitating, he grabbed it. Dropping a kiss to her knuckles before she could react, he whirled her around in a backward spin.
He grinned. Time to take it up a notch.
CHAPTER 4
WHO IS THIS MYSTERY MAN? Gin prowled and swiveled in his arms, full of coiled energy and ready to pounce. Yet she waited for his cues, craving them, dying to see what he’d try next. She had never been led like this. Never found a partner who moved like he did. She wanted to dance with him for hours. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.
Every time she turned around, his hazel eyes locked on her like heat-seeking missiles. Her skin warmed under his gaze. His hair was short and dark, with a hint of a wave, and that full lower lip—
He pulled her against him, chest to chest, and leaned her backward. Riveted by the intensity of his eyes, she was grateful that years of dance created excellent muscle memory. Because she may just have forgotten her own name.
With strong arms, he tugged her upright, breasts pressed to his chest. A smile lit his face, revealing one dimple. Holy shit. She wanted to kiss it. Air rushed over her chest as he put space between them, and damn, she wanted to be up against his warmth again.
The rapid bouncy beat of the samba carried her, igniting her body as surely as those bedroom eyes of his. She raised her knee and brought her foot down, crossing it over the other. Over and over, lift and cross, as they moved across the floor. He guided her shoulder toward him and away, matching her, their feet centimeters apart but never touching.
In a heartbeat, they had circled the entire dance floor, and Gin was vaguely aware that they were the only ones on it. The crowd was a jumble of faceless murmurs. All she could see was this man. Her body reacted to his on pure instinct, fitting and moving together as if they’d done this for years.
They flew through the fancy footwork sequence again, and he dropped his hand from her shoulder to her waist. She looked up into smoldering eyes, which held a question that she read with ease. He wants to try a lift.
She smiled. Hell yes. She moved her hand higher, locking onto his muscular shoulder.
He didn’t wait. The hand at her waist tightened, and strong arms lifted her high. He swung her in an effortless circle, her free hand held out far to the side as if she were catching stars.
Is this what flying feels like? The sultry beat pulsed as he whirled around. Her hair ruffled in the breeze he created. The colored lights dimmed, leaving only two blue beams shining on them as they twirled.
Muscles tensing, he slowed, setting her gently on her silver-heeled feet. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and winked, not wanting the music to stop.
Of course, it did, and he gave her one last twirl before dipping her low to the floor. Cheers and claps erupted from the blur of faces. Wow. Her heart thudded in her chest, both from the dance and from her mouthwatering partner. She smiled at him as she caught her breath.
He led her to the bar, her hand all but swallowed up in his. He grabbed two bottles of water and handed her one just as the band belted out another loud tune. A foxtrot. She had the fleeting thought that the band was giving her students a chance to try everything she had taught them. But it was gone in a flash, her sights focused on him.
The man said something she could barely hear over a loud blast from the trumpets. She shook her head and mouthed what? Smiling, he nodded his head at the double doors leading to the hallway. He grabbed his suit coat off a chair as they wound their way around the tables toward the exit.
The banquet hall had three large rooms, but theirs was the only party taking place tonight. Gin walked beside him. Her three-inch heels gave her a boost, but he still had several inches on her. She guessed that put him comfortably over six feet.
“Thank you for the dance.” Who are you? A million other questions raced around her mind as she glanced up at him. She wanted to see that dimple again. Wanted to dance with him again.
“Thank you,” he said as they reached a balcony overlooking the building foyer. “I’ve never had a partner with moves like you.” He extended his hand. “I’m Mathias.”
“Ginny Bonham. But call me Gin.” She placed her hand in his and he brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss to her skin. He lingered a second longer than he needed to, his hazel eyes not leaving hers. Jesus. Heat bloomed in Gin’s belly.
For a second, she found herself speechless. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, spellbound, and she wanted those lips against hers. Fighting for rational thought, she swallowed hard. “Where did you learn to dance like that? You’re incredible.”
“Brazil. I have friends there.”
She’d always thought Brazil sounded like a vibrant place. “What’s it like?”
“Hot. Colorful.” He winked. “Spicy.”
She nodded and wished she hadn’t asked. Sure, a guy would describe it that way. Weren’t Brazil’s beaches full of bronzed women in tiny thong bikinis? Hell, the Brazilian bikini wax was named after the place. He probably had more than his share of female company while he spent time with his friends.
Mathias oozed sexiness. And she had felt the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders as they danced. How hot would he look without a shirt? A beach, warm sun—stop it, Gin! She mentally squashed her wayward thoughts under her spiked heel and forced her mind back to the moment. “Do you speak Spanish?”
“Si.” He smiled. “But Portuguese is spoken in Brazil. How about you?”
“I’m learning.” It would be a good language to know, as her work could take her to Central America as easily as it could take her to the Sub-Saharan desert. Still, some of the language quirks stymied her. She found herself more at home analyzing microbes than conjugating irregular verbs.
“And where’d you learn to dance?” he asked.
Gin smiled, remembering the junior high gym class that she had originally hated, and the boy she’d had to dance with who she had a crush on but who didn’t know she existed. Her teacher had recognized Gin’s natural skill. Private lessons followed, and her lifelong passion for dance ignited. “It started in school and took off from there.”
“One of those school dances with the boys on one side and the girls on the other?” He smiled. The dimple appeared again. Damn.
“No, it was gym class. In the winter when we couldn’t go outside. They taught us foxtrot and square dancing.”
He finished his water and set the bottle down. “That boy you were dancing with called you Miss B.”
Gin leaned her hip against the balcony railing and faced him. “I teach a ballroom class at the university.”
“You’re a dance teacher?”
“By happenstance. I also teach two undergrad science classes. My major is Agricultural Science and…” She paused and gave him a huge smile. It was hard to contain her excitement. “I just finished my Master’s.”
“Congratulations. That’s a huge accomplishment.” His voice was subdued, and she would’ve thought his words carried no enthusiasm. But those hazel eyes burned into her like he was trying to study her. “Dance and science. Talk about both sides of the brain.”
Her heart flipped and she felt her mouth form an O. “That’s what I always say. I mean, it’s how I describe myself. Um, not that I talk about myself a lot.”
Why was she flustered and babbling? She looked down and her gaze landed on his hands. They were big and strong and skilled. She remembered how they felt holding hers. She remembered every subtle touch on her shoulders, her waist, her thigh. That lift.
He reached out to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers slide down the strands. The scent of some subtle, delicious aftershave wafted to her nose as he took a step closer.
Gin froze, afraid to breathe, entranced by him. His lips looked delectable. I don’t even know his last name. And she couldn’t care less. Up close, his eyes were even more beautiful. Swirls of green, blue, and golden brown flowed one into t
he next, like a Matisse watercolor. Framed by thick dark lashes, they rooted her feet in place as lightning shot from her core to her breasts.
“Gin—” His voice was husky as he uttered her name, making her nipples tighten.
The trilling of a phone rang from his suit coat. He blinked. “Ah…excuse me.” He flashed a quick smile and retrieved the phone, then walked a few feet away.
She sucked a huge gulp of air and turned to look out over the foyer. Whoa. She didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that they’d been interrupted. And what, exactly, had been about to happen? Her heart thudded in her chest and she touched her fingers to her lips. His mouth would be soft on hers. She knew it.
“Gin.”
She turned to see Mathias standing a few feet behind her.
“I have to go. I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” she said. What a dumb response. But what was she supposed to say? Get back here and kiss me? “Um, okay. It was great to meet you.”
“Yeah, you too. I’ll be in town for a few days. Maybe we could have coffee?” His eyes looked hopeful.
As if I’d say no. She smiled. “Sure.” She rattled off her phone number and watched him type it into his phone.
He looked up and tucked the phone into his pocket. “So. I’ll talk to you soon. And thanks again for the dance.”
“You’re welcome.” Maybe we can do it again.
He smiled, winked, and headed down the stairs at the end of the balcony. Crossing the foyer, he glanced up to flash her one more dimpled smile before exiting the building.
The outside door thudded, shutting out the winter night. Gin stared at it for a minute before turning to go back to the fairy-wonderland room.
Ria grabbed her the second she walked in. “Hey, girlfriend.” She looked back at the doorway. “Where’s Prince Charming?”
“He had to go.”
“What?” Ria popped a hand on her hip. “Oh no, he didn’t.”
“Yeah, he did. He got a phone call, then said he had to leave.”
