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She regarded her former dance partner with a frosty stare. “Ending our partnership was a mutual decision.”
The handsome Aussie reached for her hand across the table. “The handwriting was on the wall. We weren’t going to make it. I didn’t want to win as badly as you did. And sleeping together was a terrible mistake.”
Shanna wanted to deny his assertion, but couldn’t. Jonathan simply hadn’t possessed her drive to win. They’d both known it. Their one night of impulsive sex had merely brought their problems to the fore.
Admittedly, sex between them had been stupid. But a late-night practice, Jonathan suffering a recent break-up with his fiancée, Shanna fearing their days of competing together were numbered, hours upon hours of nothing but sexually-charged dances, with the tension between them so thick… The dam holding their restraint had burst.
Afterward, their partnership had gone from strained to doomed. Her ambition on the dance floor hadn’t meshed well with his need to check out to deal with his recent turmoil. Belatedly, Shanna had realized he needed more emotional support from a partner than she’d given. Their fights had become hellacious. They’d said terrible things, and he’d walked out.
In retrospect, the end of their dance partnership had been best for both of them. Jonathan’s fiancée had returned, and he’d retired to married life and modeling. After a few months of silence between them, he’d reached out to her. Over the last eighteen months, they’d repaired their friendship. During that time, Shanna had been happily paired with Kristoff…until she’d seen his porn-inspired deeds.
“Let’s not rehash ancient history,” Jonathan said. “You came to me with a problem. Are you sleeping with Kristoff?”
Shanna shook her head. “Of course not. Until I saw the video, I thought he was firmly in the gay column.”
“At least that’s one less complication.”
The early-morning breeze whipped through her hair. Shanna looked down into her steaming mug. “I have to decide what to do. I don’t want to lose Kristoff as a partner. Training a new one would take so much time. But if the judges get their hands on that footage…”
“That would be devastating. The old crones would crucify you. The men…they’d either try to bury or debauch you.”
“Exactly. I want to strangle Kristoff every time the realization that he’s jeopardized everything hits me.”
“In the dance department, you’re well-matched. Kristoff is a fabulous athlete who wants to win every bit as badly as you. Admit that much.”
She rolled her eyes. “I suppose.”
“Stop,” he demanded. “I know you too well. Everyone else may buy that puffed-up bitch act, but we both know better. It took me years to realize you’re not half as pissed as you are afraid. You’re trembling at the thought of being vulnerable and of not holding that trophy so you can finally prove to your family that you’re a champion. Is Daddy’s opinion really more important than friendship? It’s okay to stand by your friends, even if your family will disapprove.”
God, he had her number.
“Have you taken up psychotherapy on the side, Freud?”
“Just calling your bluff.”
“I came to you for help, and you’re giving me hell.” She stood and grabbed her paper mug.
“Sorry,” Jonathan murmured, looking like he wanted to say more on the subject. Mercifully, he didn’t. “Do you have any other information about the video or its delivery that might help you track down the blackmailer? Or did Kristoff know anything about how it was made?”
“No, I don’t think Kristoff has a clue. But last night, the owner of the sex club in which the footage was filmed tried to seduce me out of my panties. If the event hadn’t been for charity—”
“You know where this tape was made?”
She nodded. “A place called Sneak Peek.”
“The club for voyeurs and exhibitionists?”
Jonathan knew about that place? “Yes.”
He sat back in his chair, a taunting smile curling up his mouth. Shanna felt her heart seize. He looked at her as if he knew being watched made her wet. Did he? Did every man who watched her dance?
Thankfully, he didn’t go there. “So when you danced with this mate, did you talk to him, see what he knows about the video and its creation?”
“No.” She’d been too busy resisting his seduction, trying to fend off his unnerving ability to see past her defenses.
“There you go.” He shrugged. “Maybe he can help you track down who’s blackmailing Kristoff.”
Shanna gripped her tea. Jonathan was right. The answer had been staring her in the face. Alejandro could find out exactly who had filmed Kristoff.
All she had to do was put herself in his path again and pray she could resist him.
“I need your help.”
Alejandro Diaz looked up at the female with the trembling voice hovering in the door of his office. Platinum hair pulled tightly away from her unusually pale face. Blue eyes smudged with the bruises of sleeplessness. Shanna York. Here, in his office.
