Dead on the Dance Floor by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page B

O’Casey’s really large left foot landed on her toe once again.
    â€œSam!” she called suddenly, breaking away from her partner.
    â€œYeah?” he looked up.
    â€œCan I borrow you for a minute?”
    â€œSure.”
    Shannon headed toward the stereo, waiting for the tango to play out, removed the CD and replaced it with an old classic—Peggy Lee singing “Fever.” Sam walked over to partner her as she spoke to her new student. “Right now, you’re just trying to get the basic box. But if you think of the steps to the music, it might help you.”
    Sam led her in the basic steps while she looked at Quinn. She was not at all convinced he was trying very hard.
    To her surprise, Sam spoke up. “It looks like a boring dance,” he said to Quinn. “But it can be a lot of fun.”
    The next thing Shannon knew, Sam had taken the initiative. They moved into a grapevine, an underarm spin and a series of pivots. Steps far advanced from anything their new student could begin to accomplish.
    â€œOkay, Sam,” she said softly. “We don’t want to scare him off.”
    â€œWell…he should see what he can learn,” Sam replied.
    She couldn’t argue. They did lots of demonstrations to show their students what they could learn. She just wondered about this particular student.
    But Quinn was nodding and looking as if he had suddenly figured something out. He stepped in to take his position with her again. The guy had a great dance hold; he also wore some kind of really great aftershave. He should be a pleasure to teach.
    Except that he was always watching.
    But weren’t students supposed to watch?
    Not the way he did, with those piercing blue eyes.
    She looked back up into them, reminding herself that she was a teacher, and a good one.
    â€œListen, feel it, and move your feet. Remember that you’re just making a square.”
    To her amazement, he had it. He finally had it. A box. A simple box. It felt like a miracle.
    â€œHead up,” she said softly, almost afraid to push her luck. “Don’t look at your feet. It will only mess you up.”
    His eyes met hers, and he maintained the step and the rhythm. His dimple showed as he smiled, pleased. His hold was just right. There was distance between them, but she was still aware of hot little jolts sweeping through her, despite the lack of real body contact. Not good.
    Dance teachers needed to be friendly. Accustomed to contact. The more advanced a student, the closer that contact. She was accustomed to that.
    But it had never been like this.
    She suddenly wanted the lesson to be over for reasons other than her sore feet.
    When they were done, he seemed actually enthused.
    â€œWhen do I come again?” he asked.
    â€œWhenever you schedule.”
    â€œTomorrow?” he asked.
    â€œYou’ll have to see Ella, our receptionist.”
    They were standing near the little elevated office. Ella had already heard. “He can have a two-o’clock.”
    â€œI thought I had an appointment with the hotel about blocking out rooms for the Gator Gala?” Shannon said frowning. “And I know I have Dr. Long coming in for his regular class.”
    â€œThe hotel pushed the meeting to Wednesday,” Ella said cheerfully. “And they want you to call them back. Dr. Long isn’t in until five-fifteen.”
    â€œTwo o’clock, then,” Shannon said.
    â€œThanks. I’ll see you then.”
    Their new student departed, and Shannon stared after him.
    Jane, returning from the dentist, passed him at the door. “Who the hell was that?” she demanded when she reached Shannon.
    â€œDoug’s brother.”
    â€œDoug’s brother…wow. Look what a few more years are going to do for that guy. Of course, the eyes…shit! Who taught him?”
    â€œI did,” Shannon said.
    â€œOh. And you’re keeping him?” She tried to sound