The Dancer by Jane Toombs Page A

yet she did. "You," she whispered. "I want you."
     
    He rose over her. "Look at me, Elena," he murmured. She stared into his dark eyes, so close to hers, as he nudged her legs apart with his knee. Something hard and hot probed her yielding softness and slipped inside her, pushing. She felt an instant of not-quite-pain, then he withdrew only to come into her again and withdrawing until she was aflame with need. Her eyes closed as little throaty sounds escaped her.
     
    When he eased all the way inside , she writhed against him, his is throbbing hardness impaled her, creating such exquisite pleasure that she cried out.
     
    He stopped moving but she could not and soon he began to thrust in a rhythm she instinctively counterpointed as they became partners in the age-old, forever-new dance of love. Calling her name over and over, he whirled them both into a frenzy of wild passion that climaxed in a starburst of glory.
     
    Afterwards she lay in his arms knowing she'd given him not only her body but her heart and her soul as well. She'd never love any other man, it had been Davis from the beginning and after tonight it always would be. As much as dancing meant to her, Davis meant more. He was her life.
     
    He turned, easing her away until he could look at her. "You're mine now," he said softly. "You can't run away from me again."
     
    La Coralilla surfaced, bold and sassy. "All I did was ask you to dance. I never dreamed--" She paused, half-smiling.
     
    "What didn't you dream?"
     
    "That you actually knew how."
     
    He pulled her close. "Mexico's turned you into a little vixen."
     
    "Where did you learn those steps?" she asked, her voice muffled by his chest.
     
    "Which ones?"
     
    "I think there's more than one fox in this bed. I mean the flamenco dancing."
     
    "The same place you did."
     
    "Not from Madame Maria! She would have told me."
     
    "I asked her not to. I watched you dance and I saw what you offered your partner. I knew it was part of the dance but all the same I could hardly bear to see you with him. I told myself someday you'd dance with me and when you did, your offering would be for me and I'd take it and you'd be mine. So I had to learn the steps."
     
    She pulled back to stare at him. What she'd thought was her own idea, a way to get even with Lois, Davis had planned for years. It was the first time she'd thought of Lois since the beginning of the flamenco dance and she immediately wished she hadn't. "You're engaged to be married." She spoke flatly.
     
    "This is no time to bring that up." He leaned over to kiss her, trailing kisses down to her breasts.
     
    Elena tried to prevent herself from forgetting Lois, but forgot everything except the way he made her feel. His lips coaxed while he touched her in places that heated her blood.
     
    "Love me, sweet Elena." His voice was soft, but the part of him she'd barely begun to know was far from soft and the feel of it against her thigh melted the marrow of her bones.
     
    This time she knew exactly what she wanted.
     
    When Elena woke in the morning Davis was gone from the bed and from the room. She sat up, looking for some indication he meant to come back, but saw nothing. Perhaps he'd left a note. She didn't find one. After washing and dressing hurriedly, she stood a moment inside the closed door of his bedroom gathering her nerve to face whoever she might find on the other side of the door. Servants were no problem but Stella was another story. Calling on La Coralilla's aplomb, she opened the door.
     
    No one was in the corridor or on the stairs. She stood in the foyer wondering where Davis had gone and what she should do. If he expected her to stay here, she must return to Bothwicks for her belongings. But did he expect her to stay? Why had he left without waking her to say where he was going?
     
    "Good morning, Elena." Stella spoke from the doorway leading to the dining room. "Come on in and have a bit of breakfast with me."
     
    Elena turned, a