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Bring on the dancing.
Spotlights from up above flicked on, one at a time, illuminating circles on the dance floor; other instruments joined the saxophone until a raunchy tune was playing.
‘The samba,’ Claudia announced to no one in particular.
And then a half-dozen couples twirled onto the floor from the wings. The women were dressed in tight, sequined dresses with huge slits that fitted like a second skin and the men were dressed in skinny trousers that fitted across narrow hips, formed a sash across flat abs and flared slightly at the hem. Their white silky shirts bloused and flapped, a little like pirates’, the buttons mostly undone.
They found their positions and, as one, they all commenced dancing.
Really dirty dancing.
Bumping and grinding. Big male hands all over petite, scantily clad, female bodies. Spanning waists, gliding down legs, skimming breasts.
They twirled and turned and practically floated across the dance floor, light as feathers. When the music ended, the male dancers dipped their partners with dramatic flair, the spotlights cutting out, and the room burst into applause.
‘There’s Raoul,’ Avery called across the table, raising her voice to be heard over the clapping.
Claudia nodded. She’d noticed. And he’d noticed her too, giving her a quick wink as he’d sambaed past earlier. He’d be over when he finished his set.
Luke frowned. Raoul. His eyes searched the dance floor for the man that Avery and Claudia were talking about as the lights came back on again and the dancers started up a tango. He spent the next fifteen minutes checking out each of the incredibly talented dancers wondering who the mysterious Raoul was. And what his relationship to Claudia might be.
He didn’t have long to wait.
As the performers finished their last dance they all split up and headed for the tables, cajoling people to dance with them. A tall, dark-haired man with very white teeth, a perfect tan and designer three-day growth made a direct beeline for Claudia.
Raoul, he presumed.
TWELVE
Claudia stood as Raoul approached. It had been such a long time and she’d missed watching him dance. He had the swagger that all good-looking men possessed and combined it with that loose-hipped sway of a dancer. And it would have been quite something had Claudia not known that Raoul was aware of every single pair of female eyes following him across the floor.
He was beautiful and he knew it.
Sure, Raoul was great to dance with and a fun occasional lover but Claudia had never entertained anything serious with him. When—if—the big L happened she wanted to be the centre of that man’s world. She needed a man who loved her more than he loved himself.
She deserved that, damn it.
Claudia was hyperaware of Luke’s gaze on her as Raoul closed the distance between them and swept her into his arms.
‘Raoul,’ Claudia exclaimed. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’
Raoul slid a hand onto her waist as he kissed both of her cheeks. ‘Mi querida. You look magnifica,’ he said, then stood back slightly to admire her dress.
Claudia knew that Raoul’s Spanish accent could be used like a lethal weapon on unsuspecting women but she also knew it came and went with remarkable ease. But she didn’t care—not tonight.
Luke clearly did though. She could feel the disapproval radiating off him in waves and she felt just a little triumphant.
‘You like?’ she asked, performing a sexy pivot from side to side for full effect, flirting just a touch.
‘You make all the men go a little crazy here tonight, I think.’ He grinned. ‘What you say, Miss Avery?’ he asked.
‘Definitely.’ Avery smiled as she greeted Raoul. He held out his hand and she placed hers inside, grinning when he kissed it.
‘Raoul,’ Jonah said, half standing as Raoul’s attention shifted and the two men shook hands.
‘And who do we have here?’ Raoul asked as his gaze came to rest on Luke.
‘This is Luke,’ Claudia said, jumping in before Luke, who didn’t look inclined to chit-chat, could say anything abrupt. ‘Raoul’s company runs our Latin dance classes and Latin nights at the Tropicana,’ she said.
She thought it was best not to introduce Raoul as her lover, no matter how much she wanted to make Luke squirm. Truth was it had been too long to claim him as that any more.
‘Ah,’ Raoul said. ‘This is the famous Luke.’ He held out his hand. ‘Nice to finally meet you. I have heard much about you.’
Luke vaguely remembered now seeing Raoul at a function when he’d come back last year to work out what they were going to do about being handed the management of the resort. He shook the other man’s hand when what he really wanted to do was to demand that Raoul remove his other hand from Claudia’s waist.
