Fool for Love: Fooling Around\Nobody's Fool\Fools Rush In (5 page)

He laughed as he held the door for her. “What are you planning to do, put me through a Jazzercise class?”

When she didn't answer, he experienced a tingle of anxiety. But the muted music filtering down the hallway wasn't exercise music. Nope, this stuff was in a minor key and reminded him of snake charmers, spicy food and….

No, it couldn't be. Surely not. Guys didn't do that kind of thing. Then she opened the door, allowing him a glimpse inside.
Belly dancing.

F
ROM THE DOORWAY
at the back of the room, Lena peeked inside. The warmup had begun, and all eight women were facing the wall of mirrors at the front. Lena's gaze halted abruptly as she spotted two familiar figures in the far corner.
Brandy and Meg.
They'd crashed the lesson. She'd kill them.

The instructor, an olive-skinned woman named Diana, turned and beckoned to Lena and Andre. “Welcome, Andre, Lena,” she said in a sultry voice while she continued undulating to the music. “Take off your shoes and join us.”

“She means just you, right?” Andre muttered.

“She means both of us.” Lena glared at her soon-to-be-ex-friends standing in the front row. By looking in the mirror, they could see her perfectly. Their faces were red, as though they were both ready to crack up, but they somehow managed to gaze straight ahead, as if the music had put them in a trance.

“But I don't know how to do this,” Andre said under his breath.

“Me, either,” she murmured, slipping off her shoes to stand barefoot on the smooth wooden floor. She was so ticked off at Brandy and Meg that she forgot to be embarrassed that she'd brought Andre here. In fact, she was utterly determined to follow
through now. She would show them who else had solid brass ones. “It's a class. She'll teach us.”

“But there aren't any guys.”

The hint of panic in his voice finally registered, and instantly her determination vanished. She might have something to prove to Brandy and Meg, but he shouldn't have to suffer to help her accomplish that. She'd brought him to a belly-dancing class. He must be freaking out.

She swallowed. “Let's forget it,” she said, wondering if there was any way she could erase his impression that she was nuttier than a Baby Ruth. “It was a silly idea.”

He studied her for a moment. Then he glanced over at the women rotating their hips. “You really don't know how, either?”

“I've had one class, last week. I'm still very much a beginner.” Which was the whole point for the April Fools, to humiliate herself. But enough was enough. “It's no big deal. We can leave.”

He nudged off his expensive-looking loafers. “You were right about the fast food. You're probably right about this, too.”

Her heart gave a jolt. He trusted her to make the right call. That was huge, and she felt the responsibility of it, especially considering the way their job situation would change on Monday. She felt dishonest for not telling him about that, yet. “Listen, you really don't have to.”

“I'm guessing I should also take off the socks.”

“Yes, but—”

“The bonus is that I get to watch you doing those sexy moves.” He winked at her, pulled off both
socks and tucked them inside his shoes. “Let's boogie.”

“You have nice feet.” Ai-yi-yi! Had she really said that out loud?

“Thanks. So do you.”

Apparently she
had
said it out loud. And apparently they were going to spend an hour together learning to belly dance. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her face hot as she walked quickly over to a spot behind the second row of four women.

Andre positioned himself beside her. “Just don't spread the word about this to any of the people at work,” he whispered. “I'd never hear the end of it.”

“I won't.” Guilt threatened to swamp her. But she couldn't think of a graceful way out.

“Roll those hips,” Diana crooned. “Get loose. Get supple.”

Andre swung his pelvis in a circle, glanced at Lena and smiled. “Come on. Get with the program.”

“Right.” She tried to swivel her hips the way she'd been taught last week, but self-consciousness made her stiff and awkward. She couldn't
believe
she'd dragged Andre into this, or that she was actually dancing in front of him.

He watched her in the mirror. “Loosen up,” he murmured.

“I shouldn't have brought you here.”

“Hey, don't give up on the idea, yet.”

Apparently he was accepting the concept better than she was. “You're picking up on this really well, better than I did the first time.”

“Ah, I'm just fooling around.”

She worked to adopt his attitude, making a concentrated effort to relax and have fun.

“That's better,” he said.

“Thanks.” She decided to focus her attention on him instead of watching herself, which was painful. And boy, did he have moves.

“Very nice, Andre,” Diana called out. “A little more bend to the knees. That's it. Now a little shimmy. Good!”

Lena's scarf tied at her hips rippled as she moved, which had been her intention back when she'd fantasized she could actually do this thing without fainting. Andre couldn't seem to take his eyes off that scarf, while she was totally engrossed in the subtle movement of his hips. He had no right to be so good at belly dancing.

And then it came to her. He had the loose hips of an outstanding lover. Watching him in the mirror, she barely had to use her imagination to picture him backing her up against that mirror and having his way with her. This class, which was supposed to be a joke, was morphing from a major embarrassment to an incredible turn-on.

“Hip, hip, shimmy, drop,” Diana chanted, demonstrating the motion as she began to circle the room. “Use your butt. That's it. Excellent.
Everyone
is doing a fabulous job.”

Lena couldn't speak for herself or anyone else in the class, but Andre had it going on. When he grinned at her in the mirror, she came to the surprising conclusion that, once again, he was having a blast. Meanwhile, Brandy and Meg were so busy watching him that they danced right into each other,
colliding with a smack of bodies and a yelp of pain. Served them right.

“Body awareness.” Diana's dulcet tones drifted through the erotic music. “Body awareness is everything.”

Isn't that the truth?
As Lena's self-consciousness faded, she realized that she'd never felt this sexy in her life. Maybe it had something to do with the messages Andre flashed when he caught her gaze in the mirror.

At the rate the dancing was going, they would both need that round of goofy golf to cool down. Without it, they were liable to climb in the back seat of her car and go to it. She couldn't let that happen.

In the mirror, she watched his swiveling hips. Sex must be second nature to him. He might not think he was very French, but he danced as though he was free of the inhibitions most American men had.

And for tonight, he was all hers.

 

A
NDRE WAS LEARNING
more than belly dancing tonight. He was also discovering that following the normal dating script led to predictable and boring evenings. Lena wasn't into that, and because of her creative approach he was fast becoming her slave, ready to do anything she asked of him.

Who knew that belly dancing in a class at the Y would be more like foreplay than any smoky dance floor in the city? Instead of the usual routine—fast dancing followed by slow dancing followed by even slower dancing and suggestive body contact—he was gyrating side-by-side with Lena and watching her in
a mirror. And the effect on his libido was ten times greater than if they'd gone to a nightclub.

The longer they danced like this, the looser and more aroused he became. Fortunately the intense concentration on the instruction kept his bad boy under control, but once they were out of this studio, he planned to talk Lena into a visit to his apartment. Yes, it was probably too soon, but he was willing to take the chance. He had a hunch she might be willing, too.

Sex on the first date wasn't
always
a mistake, especially if two people had been fantasizing about each other for months, and if the date was designed to rip off the masks most couples wore on a first date.

Lena was obviously willing to be less than perfect in front of him.

“Now let's work on our arm positions,” the instructor said. “Lift them like this, as if you're giving an invisible person a big hug.”

Andre tried, but this wasn't quite as natural as swiveling his hips. Lena excelled at this part, lifting her arms with the grace of a ballet dancer. He looked as if he was holding an imaginary garbage can.

He was concentrating so hard on his arm position that he didn't realize the instructor had circled the room and moved in behind him.

“That's good, Andre, but you need to lift your elbows a little more, and raise your rib cage. Thrust your chest out.” She cupped his elbows and positioned them. “There you go. Isn't that better?”

He felt like an imbecile. “I don't think men's arms are engineered to do this.”

“Oh, but they are,” the instructor said. “Haven't you ever seen male gypsies dance?”

“Can't say that I have.”

“Very potent.”

Potent.
He liked the sound of that. If lifting his elbows and throwing out his chest made him look potent, he'd give it a shot.

“Wonderful. Keep it up.” The instructor glided over toward Lena. “You have lots of potential,” she said. “I hope you continue with the classes.”

Andre hoped she would, too. He had a sudden image of Lena dancing privately for him. He'd like to see her in an outfit like the instructor wore—her belly bare and her cleavage emphasized by a sequined halter. Maybe it would have fringe on it that shook when she—

“Now lift your arms and rotate your wrists like this,” said the instructor. “Pretend your have finger cymbals that you're using to keep time with the music. Undulating movements.”

Watching himself in the mirror, Andre thought he looked like a man who'd stumbled on a hive of bees. But he wasn't any worse than the blonde and the redhead in the far corner, who kept giggling and crashing into each other. Lena was amazing, though. After riding out that rough spot in the beginning, she'd gradually turned into a temptress in blue, her bracelets tinkling as she moved. She made his mouth water.

He doubted his arm-wiggling routine was doing much for her, though. He'd felt damned studly when all they had going on was the hip shimmy, but getting his arms to do the snaky thing the instructor
wanted interfered with his shimmy. Therefore he was immensely grateful when the instructor finally raised her arms high in the air, did a dramatic spin timed to the ending of the song, and declared the class over.

Lena turned to him, still breathing fast from the exercise. Her face was flushed and her eyes bright. He wanted to kiss her so much he couldn't see straight.

“Thank you for putting up with that,” she said, her voice breathless. “You were—”

“Waving my arms like a crazed symphony conductor,” he said. “But it doesn't matter.” Nothing mattered but getting her alone. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, lose himself in her. She looked delicious right now, all worked up and trembly.

But the blonde and the redhead rushed up as he was about to suggest beating a fast retreat. The blonde spoke first. “What a good sport you are!” She stuck out her hand. “Hi. I'm Brandy. I'm a friend of Lena's.”

“That's a matter of opinion,” Lena said.

“Oh, Lena,” said the redhead. “You knew we'd want to meet Andre. I'm Meg, by the way.”

Andre shook her hand, too. God, he hoped these two weren't about to horn in and suggest they all go out for coffee. But he wanted to be polite, in case these were people Lena cared about. “Are you both beginners like me?”

“Gee, could you tell?” Meg grinned. “Brand new. Never tried this before. But we heard Lena was bringing you so we signed up for the class. Otherwise, no telling when she'd see fit to introduce us. She's very close-mouthed, that one.”

“For good reason, obviously,” Lena said.

Brandy didn't look the least bit sorry. “If you'd mentioned Andre before this, we might not have had to sneak around to meet him.” She turned to Andre. “And it's been a pleasure. You were awesome to stick out the whole class.”

“I absolutely agree,” Meg said. “Well, we have to toddle along. You two have a good time with the rest of your evening.”

“Thanks.” With a sense of relief that his plans to be alone with Lena weren't ruined, Andre braced himself against the wall so he could put on his socks and shoes. “So you told them you were bringing me to this class?”

“They knew about it.” Lena seemed uneasy. “But I never in a million years expected them to show up.”

“Hey, it's okay. I have nothing against getting to know your friends.”
Especially when they have the good sense to leave us alone.
“Ready to go?”

“Yes. Just let me speak with Diana a minute.”

“Sure.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he watched her walk barefoot across the polished wood floor, and lust sucker-punched him in the gut. He thought about her plans for the night—the fast food, the belly dancing, and something she'd called
light entertainment.
It all added up to a planned seduction, didn't it?

The more he considered the chain of events, the more he was convinced that Lena had specifically designed this date to make him drool, and he was slobbering for sure. He hoped that her idea of light entertainment coincided with his. Light entertainment
had to mean cruising back to her apartment, putting some tunes on the sound system, finally cracking open a bottle of wine, and cuddling on her sofa.

And once they were alone in a setting like that, the outcome was inevitable. At the thought that he might be less than an hour away from getting naked with Lena, he struggled to control a natural reaction. He didn't want her to turn around and discover he had a noticeable bulge in his pants. He didn't want to come across as lustful and crude, even though that pretty much described his condition at the moment.

Her conversation with the instructor seemed to take forever, but at last she walked back to him, a soft smile on her face. “Diana congratulates you. She says you're welcome in the class anytime.”