Taming Alaska (So Not Prince Charming Book 1) by Diana Downey

past few weeks have been pretty shitty, and I’ve had a lot to drink. I won’t make a very good dance partner.”
    Felipe shoves Shane again. “Bad word. I’m telling.”
    Shane cradles the boy in his arms. “Sorry, partner.”
    “Go dance with mi tia ,” Felipe orders, scrunching up his face while he folds his arms over his chest.
    Shane gives me a wary look. “Do I have to?”
    Felipe blows bubbles into Shane’s face, which only makes him smile. “ Si .”
    “Go find your mother,” I say to Felipe.
    He dashes through the crowd and grabs hold of Maria while still clutching the bottle of bubbles. When she takes them away, he bawls. I shake my head at her lack of parenting skills.
    “You are not my type, Princess,” Shane says, not moving from his chair. “Why don’t you run off to your husband?”
    “Not your type,” I huff out, knuckling my hips.
    He sets that rugged jaw dusted with stubble. “I came from nothing. A Yup’ik midwife and Wendell, the local vet/doctor delivered me and my siblings, and you came from all this.” Those long scarred fingers gesture grandly to Mom’s mansion.
    Like a wild animal, my traitorous body would still lick O’Flannery off the dessert plate. “This comes from the man who patted me down and grabbed my junk.” And a kiss that lasted until I met Blake. “Any straight guy would find me appealing, and you dated Nikita. I’m definitely a step up from her.”
    When his gaze wanders over me, I cross my arms over my chest, feeling suddenly naked under his scrutiny.
    “She’s not a party girl like you,” he says.
    I laugh. “Oh my goodness. You know how many times I’ve saved that girl from drowning in her own vomit.”
    Doubt shadows his handsome face. “Cyn, quit bull-shitting me. Niki doesn’t drink.”
    I laugh so hard, spittle flies from my mouth. I cover it while embarrassment heats my neck and face. “And to think, my dad thinks you’re smart. She’s been thrown out of the Cowboys Saloon. How could you not know this?”
    Now disappointment flashes in his green eyes, and I know I’ve hurt him. I don’t want to do that.
    “I’m sorry. I went too far.” I take a glass of champagne from the waiter and hand it to Shane. That should make his mistake of dating Nikita, instead of me, go down easier.
    Shane downs it and gives me a wicked grin that forces me to take a step back. It’s the way he looked at me at the award ceremony, like he would rip all my clothes off. I fan myself, feeling suddenly hot and moist. I need to have an orgasm because anything is looking good to me now.
    He slowly stands, like it’s killing him, snags my hand, and drags me onto the dance floor. The liquor oozing out of his pores stinks of beer and champagne. Though he’s drunk, I’m the one stumbling to keep up with him.
    The band plays a tango. He won’t know it, so I expect him to cut me loose, but he grabs my arm to follow him.
    Dad has some flamenco dancer entwined in his arms. They move like professionals. Mom loved to dance. For a brief moment, heartache flutters in my chest.
    To my amazement, Shane expertly spins me into him, and my breath catches. He dips me and snaps me up, like popping a beer tab.
    “Where did you learn to dance?” I ask, surprised.
    “My sister took ballroom dancing and my mom volunteered me as her partner. It didn’t last long, but I'm a quick learner.”
    He draws me in close, his body heat soaking me, before shoving me away. When I come up against him again, I lift my leg along his and let it slide down the length of his inner thigh. I tango—very well, I might add. My dad’s a great teacher.
    Hah. I’ve given him a hard-on, not that it’s probably difficult to do. I smile triumphantly. He glares at me, and without hiding his erection, he twirls me out and then presses it against me.
    “Why do we keep playing this game, Princess?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “You should’ve gone out with me, and we’d both be better