Isabel leaned close to Mia. “My son wantssalsa dura—the classic salsa—but Elena wantssalsa romantica. They’ve agreed on MarcAnthony.”
None of that meant anything to Mia. She knew nothing about salsa, apart from the kind that went ontacos.
Finally, the music started and Joaquin and Elena began to move. People cheered, the noise bringing people who’d been in other parts of the house and wanted to watch, too. They pushed past Mia, but she barely noticed them, her gaze fixed onJoaquin.
He moved with natural grace, every step, every motion of his hips, even the way he held Elena radiating masculine sensuality. The two of them seemed to be connected, mirroring each other with their steps as if they practiced this together all the time. Elena—down-to-business Corporal Ramirez—had transformed into a dance goddess, her short dress barely enough to cover her butt. She twirled and tossed her hair, never missing a step, a bright smile on her face. How could anyone dance like that in three-inch heels? Mia could barelywalk.
Then Elena turned in Joaquin’s arms, thrusting her ass backward toward him, her hips moving in a way that was blatantly sexual. He laughed, answering with thrusts of his own, their hips grinding insync.
Whistles.Cheers.
Mia’s pulseskipped.
If she had danced like this with a cousin… Well, let’s just say her conservative Baptist parents would’ve asked questions. But there was Elena’s mother, Aleta, and Joaquin’s mother, Isabel, and their little old grandma, laughing, their feet moving to the rhythm. None of them seemed bothered by this atall.
Then another thought struckMia.
If Joaquin moved like that on the dance floor, what would he be like inbed?
God inheaven.
No. No, no. She couldn’t think aboutthat.
She couldn’t help but think aboutthat.
Elena had begun to sing along to the music, even her ribcage undulating as she turned in his arms once again, their feet keeping a perfect rhythm as they moved around the room. Although Elena was the showier of the two of them, Mia could tell it was Joaquin who was in control, his dominance clear—a touch here, his hand catching Elena’s there, his arms supporting her while she archedbackward.
Morecheers.
When the song ended, the room exploded intoapplause.
Joaquin hugged Elena close. “Welcome home,prima.”
“Joaquin is a good man,” Isabelsaid.
Mia looked over to find the older woman watching her. “I …um…”
Then Joaquin was there, hand out. “Dance withme.”
Mia shook her head. “I … I can’t dance. I’venever—”
“Quino is the best teacher.” Elena looked at Mia, expectation on herface.
“Come on, Captain Starr,” Isabel said. “Give it atry.”
Her words were picked up by the others in theroom.
“At least tryit.”
“Quino can teachyou.”
“You can do it,Captain.”
She glanced around at them. “Only if you all promise not tolaugh.”
For some reason, they found thisfunny.
Joaquin looked into her eyes, the intensity of his gaze pinning her to the spot. “I won’t laugh. Ipromise.”