would step back and draw her into an elegant turn, as if nothing had happened.
Energy snapped between them, stinging her skin with adrenaline and tightening her nipples inside her thin dress.
I’m dancing. Astonishment rippled through her as they moved across the floor, weaving through the elegant tangueros like they did this every night.
It felt as complicated, as astonishing, as natural as...
Sex.
The song ended. Susannah’s heart pounded as Amado lifted her hand and kissed it.
The perfect gentleman.
He led her back to the table without a word, giving her nothing but the sight of his arrogant profile.
Susannah sank into her chair, aching with freshly inflamed desire. Amado sipped his drink and gracefully accepted Fiona’s gushing compliments. He laughed and said that no, he’d never taken lessons. His first girlfriend—older than he—had taught him everything he needed to know.
Susannah was jealous of her, too.
She laughed off Fiona’s tight-lipped compliments, giving full credit to Amado.
Apparently he could make her do anything. In his hands, she turned into someone else. Someone wilder, more natural, more alive.
If she hadn’t met him, she’d probably never have found out that she was capable of heights of embarrassing ecstasy in the bedroom. Of an exquisite, lust-laden tango in a crowded room.
And she still wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that she did know.
She survived two more breath-stealing, blood-heating dances with him. Then he kissed her goodnight, a chaste lip on her cheek, and said goodbye.
She went home alone, her body throbbing and aching with unspent desire.
No problem. He’d kept their secret. She’d keep her job.
Get back to her normal life. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
“Your mission is to draw Amado into the fold.” Tarrant leaned forward and picked up a gold-plated pen from his neat mahogany desk.
Susannah had felt anxious from the moment he summoned her to his office. Now she felt a painful throb start somewhere at the base of her skull.
“I want concrete ties with his estate. I want him excited to do business with us. There will be a handsome bonus in it for you.”
He scribbled something on a piece of paper, then handed it to her.
A check. For ten thousand dollars.
Her mouth fell open.
“I’m very pleased with the work you’ve done so far.” Tarrant leaned back into his chair. “Delighted, in fact. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty.”
Susannah froze. Had Amado told him she’d slept with him to get the DNA? He was angry with her and Tarrant and...everyone. Who knew how he might lash out?
“I know you’ve had to reschedule trips and reorganize your calendar to fly to Argentina twice at a moment’s notice. Don’t think I take that for granted.”
Susannah realized that the hand holding the check had started to shake. She snatched it into her lap.
Tarrant looked much healthier than he had the previous week and his face beamed with uncomplicated cheer. She suspected he didn’t know about the affair. If he did, he wouldn’t order her to go back down there. Would he?
Her stomach churned. Did Amado even want to see her again?
He’d invited her to his Manhattan hotel room and driven her wild with pleasure, his passion almost angry in its intensity. On the tango expedition, he’d tormented her into a state of tortured arousal—only to peck her goodnight on the cheek.
And that was that. She found out third-hand he’d returned to Argentina.
Without saying goodbye.
She shrank into her chair, the enormous check clutched in her sweating hand. Blood money, in a literal sense. She was paid for retrieving Amado’s genetic material. For cornering him and bringing him back here.
And now she had to shove herself down his throat again?
Hey, guess what, I’m back!
She could always quit her job right now. Hand the check back and retain the last pathetic shreds of her dignity.
But then she would certainly never see
Energy snapped between them, stinging her skin with adrenaline and tightening her nipples inside her thin dress.
I’m dancing. Astonishment rippled through her as they moved across the floor, weaving through the elegant tangueros like they did this every night.
It felt as complicated, as astonishing, as natural as...
Sex.
The song ended. Susannah’s heart pounded as Amado lifted her hand and kissed it.
The perfect gentleman.
He led her back to the table without a word, giving her nothing but the sight of his arrogant profile.
Susannah sank into her chair, aching with freshly inflamed desire. Amado sipped his drink and gracefully accepted Fiona’s gushing compliments. He laughed and said that no, he’d never taken lessons. His first girlfriend—older than he—had taught him everything he needed to know.
Susannah was jealous of her, too.
She laughed off Fiona’s tight-lipped compliments, giving full credit to Amado.
Apparently he could make her do anything. In his hands, she turned into someone else. Someone wilder, more natural, more alive.
If she hadn’t met him, she’d probably never have found out that she was capable of heights of embarrassing ecstasy in the bedroom. Of an exquisite, lust-laden tango in a crowded room.
And she still wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that she did know.
She survived two more breath-stealing, blood-heating dances with him. Then he kissed her goodnight, a chaste lip on her cheek, and said goodbye.
She went home alone, her body throbbing and aching with unspent desire.
No problem. He’d kept their secret. She’d keep her job.
Get back to her normal life. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
“Your mission is to draw Amado into the fold.” Tarrant leaned forward and picked up a gold-plated pen from his neat mahogany desk.
Susannah had felt anxious from the moment he summoned her to his office. Now she felt a painful throb start somewhere at the base of her skull.
“I want concrete ties with his estate. I want him excited to do business with us. There will be a handsome bonus in it for you.”
He scribbled something on a piece of paper, then handed it to her.
A check. For ten thousand dollars.
Her mouth fell open.
“I’m very pleased with the work you’ve done so far.” Tarrant leaned back into his chair. “Delighted, in fact. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty.”
Susannah froze. Had Amado told him she’d slept with him to get the DNA? He was angry with her and Tarrant and...everyone. Who knew how he might lash out?
“I know you’ve had to reschedule trips and reorganize your calendar to fly to Argentina twice at a moment’s notice. Don’t think I take that for granted.”
Susannah realized that the hand holding the check had started to shake. She snatched it into her lap.
Tarrant looked much healthier than he had the previous week and his face beamed with uncomplicated cheer. She suspected he didn’t know about the affair. If he did, he wouldn’t order her to go back down there. Would he?
Her stomach churned. Did Amado even want to see her again?
He’d invited her to his Manhattan hotel room and driven her wild with pleasure, his passion almost angry in its intensity. On the tango expedition, he’d tormented her into a state of tortured arousal—only to peck her goodnight on the cheek.
And that was that. She found out third-hand he’d returned to Argentina.
Without saying goodbye.
She shrank into her chair, the enormous check clutched in her sweating hand. Blood money, in a literal sense. She was paid for retrieving Amado’s genetic material. For cornering him and bringing him back here.
And now she had to shove herself down his throat again?
Hey, guess what, I’m back!
She could always quit her job right now. Hand the check back and retain the last pathetic shreds of her dignity.
But then she would certainly never see
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