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Chapter 9 - The Spanish Love Deception

He offered his hand, letting it hang in the small space between

our bodies.

Dance?

Gaping at his hand, I hesitated. Not really sure whether I had a reason to

doubt his offer or if it was just the way I automatically reacted to Aaron.

"Is this part of the deal?" I heard myself ask.

Aaron frowned.

"Us dancing, I mean. Just for show, right?" I explained.

I wasn't blind—or stupid—and I was pretty sure that dancing wasn't

something we needed to do. But a big part of me was effectively confused,

and I was growing more so by the moment. So, by saying that out loud, I

was simply throwing myself a lifeline I could grab on to until I could clear

up the mess in my head.

"Right," Aaron answered, that frown disappearing and his hand still

waiting for my decision. "Just for show."

I accepted his offer, letting his large palm wrap around mine, unsure of

how good of an idea it was.

Aaron pulled me gently behind him, and my legs shook with a weird

mix of anticipation and unease. His hand was warm and firm against mine,

making me feel good and tingly even though I could tell it weighted down

that lifeline I was trying to hold on to with teeth and nails.

I was still unsure of how good of an idea this was when he softly

dragged me where a small group of people had gathered to dance.

But it was when he stopped walking, turned, and stepped close—so very

close—that my mind finally flagged this as a bad idea. So much that a part

of me started debating whether I should run away or pretend I fainted right

there and then so I didn't have to face what we were about to do.

Dancing.

Together.

As in Aaron Blackford—the man I had been antagonizing for so long—

and me.

Oh sweet baby Jesus.

Aaron draped his arms around my waist, and I felt a shock of electricity

spreading across my body from the points where his hands rested on my

back. My breath caught, and something heavy and solid dropped to the

bottom of my stomach.

Swallowing hard, I tilted my head back. I thought I saw dare and

wariness in his gaze. All at once. And that sent an unsolicited spur of

anticipation through me.

I placed my hands on Aaron's chest—noticing how hard and toned it

felt under my fingers—but unlike earlier tonight, when I had accidentally

touched him, this time, I let my hands rest there. Only then did he bring me

to him. My small frame immediately cradled in his much larger one.

A heartbeat later, we were moving, almost every part of our bodies from

our chests down pressed together. Aaron's motions were sure, directing,

while mine were stiff and incompliant.

Releasing a breath through my nose, I tried to relax my limbs. To focus

on the mechanics of dancing. To calm that red-hot awareness raging inside

of me. But the knowledge of how close our bodies were was blowing up

alarms inside my head and making it impossible for me to think about much

else besides that.

Dancing. We were dancing. Bodies flushed. And that was something we

weren't supposed to be doing. A situation in which Aaron and Lina, who

barely tolerated each other, shouldn't be finding themselves in because this

wasn't something that people who couldn't stand each other did.

Aaron spun me in a circle with a swift motion and pressed me against

him one more time, making my heart quicken in a way it had no business

doing.

The music was slow, perfect for swaying and forgetting about

everything outside the smooth rhythm. Ideal for getting lost in the peace

that being in someone else's arms could bring. But the more we swayed, the

further I was from feeling anything that resembled peace. Not when Aaron

was so … big and hard and warm against me.

That was probably why I tripped. Before I knew what was happening,

my feet had messed up the beat and tangled together, and they would have

probably sent me straight to the floor if not for the man—the pair of strong

arms wrapped solidly around me—who held me in place.

"Thank you," I muttered, feeling my face heat up and my body tense up

further. "And sorry."

God. I had never blushed so much in one single night. I didn't recognize

myself.

Aaron's arms tightened around me. "Just for precaution," he said,

bringing me even closer.

Each and every nerve ending in my body turned into the end of a live

wire. My skin tingled, my heart raced, and my mind whirled.

"Oh. Okay." The words reached my ears, strangled, as if it had come out

of me in a gurgle. "Thanks."

The skin on my face heated up further.

Aaron hummed, just as his thumb brushed my back very lightly,

drawing one single circle that left a tiny trail of goose bumps behind. Goose

bumps that traveled to all corners and nooks of my body.

As much as I told myself that this was a simple physical reaction to

being held against a male body, being held by a man's arms, it was Aaron's

male body and Aaron's arms after all. So, either I had been alone for too

long or I was losing my mind. Because this felt … good. Really good.

Too damn much.

Those ocean-blue eyes shifted to my lips briefly. So quickly that I was

convinced I had imagined it. It didn't matter though because then his face

dipped, getting as close as it had ever been and making me forget all about

that. Making me notice instead details that I had never paid attention to

before. Like how full those lips were, which I saw pressed in a line so often.

Or how his eyelashes were long and dark and framed the blue in his eyes so

perfectly. Or how I could see the lines of the soft creases adorning his

forehead, right above the spot where that frown that was almost a fixed

feature rested.

I was so lost in all that that one of my feet tripped again, but Aaron's

arms tightened their grip around my waist as he shifted his head to one of

my sides.

"Aren't you supposed to be good at this, Catalina?" he asked a few

inches from my ear. I felt the air leaving his mouth on my temple.

Trying not to pay any extra attention to how close his mouth was from

my face, I focused on my feet and answered almost absently, "What do you

mean?"

Aaron's diligent and smooth motions spun us one more time to the soft

tune.

"I thought you were supposed to carry the beat in your blood," he

explained in a low voice, his head not giving up an inch of space. "Or was it

the music in your veins?"

I hoped my ears were not red with embarrassment. "This is not my

style," I lied. I'd never done a worse job at dancing, and it had nothing to do

with the music and everything to do with the man I was currently flush

against. "Or maybe it's my partner that's not the best fit."

Aaron chuckled. It was low and short-lived, but it reminded me of the

way he had laughed earlier, leaving me a little out of breath.

And so, I inhaled through my nose, trying to restore my breathing and

immediately regretting it. Because what an awful idea that had been. The

worst idea. All I had accomplished was filling my lungs with Aaron's scent.

Aaron's very nice and very heady and very, very masculine scent.

Could I unsmell it, please, universe? Please.

"Was that you admitting something you are not good at?" Aaron asked,

pulling me out of my head. "To me?"

"I never claimed to be a spectacular dancer." Not when my partner was

someone who certainly succeeded in distracting me so damn much. "Plus,

all that rhythm in your blood stuff is nothing more than a stereotype. There

are more than a few hundred Spaniards who can't follow a beat to save their

lives."

"I bet there are. I'll keep leading then." His voice was low, a little closer

to my ear than before. "But just in case you belong to those few hundreds."

"If you must," I muttered because what was the point of denying

something that was so obvious? I was doing a poor job at it. "I didn't know

you danced."

Just when I thought it was physically impossible for Aaron's body to

fold around mine any more, for our bodies to come any closer, he dipped

his head further. Impossibly low. His lips hovered directly above the shell

of my ear. "There are a few things you don't know about me, Catalina."

My body went even more rigid in response. A flutter taking flight in my

stomach.

I forced myself to remember that I was here to pretend I was his date—

of sorts. That I had put on a little show at fighting that woman over him at

the auction. So, fake or not, to everybody else, I was supposed to be

someone who would welcome this kind of closeness and not someone who

would jump back, startled.

So, I settled my hands on his hard chest with a little more decision.

Unfortunately, the gesture only managed to turn that flutter in my stomach

to a full-on flapping and waving and whirling riot.

"What's on your mind?" Aaron asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Being caught off guard by the question—and the interest—I blurted the

first thing that came to mind, "You said this had nothing to do with a

woman." I shifted my palms across his chest. "But it looked to me like it

had everything to do with one."

"I've never seen Mrs. Archibald so riled up," he admitted.

I adjusted my hands on his chest again, trying not to get lost in how

warm his skin felt, even beneath all the layers of fabric. "So, you are

familiar with this Mrs. Archibald, huh?" I felt his head nod once, his jaw

brushing my temple. "Let me guess. Tonight was not her first time getting

into a little charitable quarrel over you."

"It wasn't."

"Aaron Blackford, the cougar magnet." I laughed lightly, the sound

coming out a little shaky.

A soft puff of air hit my ear, rousing a wave of shivers. "It wasn't only

Mrs. Archibald enthusiastically bidding, if memory serves me well."

"Smug," I muttered.

But Aaron was right. There had been many other people—younger,

attractive—interested in him.

"Is this why you asked me to be here?" Aaron didn't immediately

answer, so I continued, "I guess it all makes sense. What Angela said earlier

and TJ kind of confirmed."

"And what's that?"

"That Aaron Blackford is scared of a bunch of overly motivated wealthy

ladies who want to buy his company."

His palms shifted on my back, spinning us into the changing rhythm of

a new song. "Are you teasing me?" he said right into my ear.

I was. But I would never admit to such a thing out loud. I felt myself

relax just the splinter of a hair in his arms. "Does it happen often?"

"What exactly, Catalina?" he asked very slowly. "Almost being

exchanged for a man with a boat or having a questionable dancing partner?"

"Neither." Feeling the smile tugging at my lips, I went on, "Women

flaunting themselves at you. I saw how tense you were on the stage. You

looked ready to jump out and get out of there." I thought about that for a

second. Him bringing me here … it kind of made sense now. "Does that

kind of attention make you uncomfortable?"

"Not always." I felt the brush of his jaw against my cheek, the simple

and light gesture causing an electrifying wave of sensation to trail down my

neck. "I'm not scared of a woman's interest in me, if that's what you're

asking. I don't send them all away."

"Oh, okay." My voice came out breathy and unsure.

Of course he didn't. I was sure he had needs. And those needs were

something I wasn't willing to think about with his arms around me.

Aaron's right hand shifted on my back, trailing down an inch or two.

Meanwhile, the skin of my face—no, my whole freaking body—burned.

His arms tightened around me one more time.

"Thank you," he said.

And I felt those two words like soft puffs of air against my hair.

"What for?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"For not stepping on my foot." I opened my mouth to apologize, but he

continued, "But also for not being deterred by Mrs. Archibald. Last year,

things got a little … uncomfortable when she found out our date consisted

of cleaning dog kennels and spending a couple of hours walking and

playing with them." I felt his sigh on the skin on the side of my neck. "Not

that it dissuaded her this year."

Something that felt a lot like protectiveness flickered in my chest.

I shook my head lightly, trying to make sense of myself. All this

dancing and spinning was clearly messing with me. "Well, as much as I am

sorry for your wallet, considering the amount the donation reached, I am

happy I got to see that sulky face when I beat her," I admitted, shocking

myself at how pleased I had really been. "I'm also sorry for those doggies

and what they had to endure last year with that woman. What kind of

hypocrite donates money for a charity that focuses on animal shelters and

doesn't like dogs? Those poor guys. I'd adopt them all if I didn't live in a

tiny studio apartment. Hell, I'd happily volunteer to spend some time with

them any day."

"I can take you, if that's what you want." Aaron's words hung in the air.

A part of me wanted to say yes. Yes to the chance of seeing a new side of

him. Perhaps another smile too. "You just bought a date anyway."

"With your money."

"Regardless," he countered. "It's part of the package deal."

That pang of unprecedented hurt hit me again, reminding me of what

this was. Part of the deal. That was Aaron, a man of his word.

Aaron's head reared back, revealing his face. His gaze was searching.

"I …" I hesitated, feeling stupid for considering for just an instant that

maybe he'd offered because he genuinely wanted to take me there. "I just

…"

Shit.

Everything that had happened tonight was spinning in my head. Aaron

in a tux. All these … new and different ways I was feeling around him. The

auction. His smile. His laughter. Dancing. My body against his, flushed

together. All of that and then the fact that we would be going to Spain in a

matter of a few weeks.

Everything tangled together in knots that messed with my head.

Aaron kept looking at me, a strange emotion behind his blue eyes. He

was probably waiting for me to say something that wasn't mumbled words.

"Would that …" I shook my head. "I wouldn't want to get you in

trouble," I finally managed to say. "I guess that someone could check if the

auction contract was fulfilled?" I didn't know if this contract existed. Didn't

even know if anybody would even check anything. "The last thing I'd want

is to hamper the good that the fundraiser has achieved tonight." I kept

going, Aaron's features unchanging, "Nobody needs to know that the date is

fake anyway. Right?"

He kept looking at me in that searching way I didn't understand. "No.

Nobody needs to know."

"Or that we are going as friends, right?" That had not sounded right.

Were we even friends?

"Is that what you want to be, Catalina?" Aaron shot back calmly.

"Friends?"

"Yes," I answered. But did I? We had never been, and that had never

had anything to do with me. That hadn't been on me. "No," I rectified,

remembering that one big obstacle that had stood between us since the

beginning. One that Aaron had put there, not me. It had been him, the one

who never liked me, not the other way around. It wasn't fair of him to ask

me now. "I don't know, Aaron." My palms felt clammy and my throat dry,

and I was … confused. "What kind of question is that?"

Aaron seemed to ponder my words. "Yes or no?" he pressed.

My mouth opened and closed. We had stopped dancing at some point.

My palms, which had been on Aaron's chest, dropped down. Aaron's gaze

followed the motion. Something locked tightly behind that unreadable mask

that was his expression.

"Forget I said anything," he said, his arms, which had been still around

me, falling down. "This was a bad idea."

That made me physically flinch, and I didn't really understand why I

had done that or what he'd meant by this.

Both of us stood in front of each other, unmoving. And as much as

Aaron had been distant and dismissive in the past, he had never looked this

… aloof. Almost as if I had said something that hurt him.

The urge to reach out and place my hand on his chest resurfaced again.

And I couldn't, for the life of me, begin to fathom why. Not when a small

voice in my head—which I assumed was common sense—was telling me

that I should be glad, that this was us getting back on track to where we

should stand.

But I wasn't any good at listening to sense these days. So, when my arm

lifted—because I was like that and I couldn't help but comfort those around

me with hugs or touches or whatever they needed—and Aaron stepped

back, away from me, it actually stung. So much that I had to scold myself

for being that stupid.

"See?" I said under my breath. "This is why I don't know if we can be

friends. Why we have never been."

Tonight had been a fluke, and this was the reason. Everything always

escalated out of control when it came to us.

"You are right." His voice was unspeakably flat. "Being your friend has

always been the last thing on my mind."

His words, together with mine, felt like hail falling unrelentingly on me.

On us, as we stood there in front of each other. Poking holes in the little

bubble we had been in for the past few hours. The one we had been in while we danced. Right before the truce that had been silently established blew up

in our faces.

Just like I should have expected.

I blinked at him, not knowing what to say.

"If you'll excuse me," he said, "I'll be back in a few minutes and take

you home."

He turned around and left me right where I was.

Rooted to the place.

Standing on legs that I didn't trust without the support of his arms. My

heart beating ruthlessly against my chest. Feeling the cold seep through my

blood in his sudden absence and my head questioning everything that had

happened tonight regardless of how much I reminded myself that it meant

nothing.

Nothing at all.

We had never been friends.

We were back to being the same Aaron and Lina we had always been,

and that was something that would never change.