The Crystal Warrior
By Maree Anderson
Chapter Thirteen
It had been no surprise to Chalcey when Francesca voluntarily took up residence at the Four Seasons, a fancy hotel not far from Sam's apartment. Her mother had finally accepted it was too late, that Chalcey couldn't leave Wulf now. It would hurt too much. It would tear her apart.
Her relief at the prospect of her mother leaving couldn't have gone unnoticed, for Francesca hadn't deigned to so much as check in via phone. Chalcey couldn't find it in her to worry about her mother's state of mind. She had enough on her plate without having to pussyfoot 'round Francesca and constantly justify her choices. Like fretting over Sam and Marcus, running a business, and worrying about her students. And angsting over this upcoming Testing crap.
It wasn't like she could study for it. There was no Cliff's Notes version on how to pass a test set by a devious old Crystal Guardian with a big-ass grudge and a heap of magical woo-woo at his command. Or how to cope with the knowledge that failure would cost a man's life.
Businesswise, at least, everything was falling into place. Student numbers were still on the up and up, forcing Chalcey to schedule more and more classes until she was stretched so thin that Jai put his foot down. "Quit being a chicken, and just commit already!" were the exact words he'd used. By that, he meant taking on Paulo and Leah as teachers once they'd worked out the required notice at their current studio.
Jai was right, of course. So she'd done it—committed to taking on more staff. And immediately after making the call, she'd felt so ill she had to rush off to the ladies' bathroom. Wulf had been there for her, as he'd been there for her ever since he'd moved in. He'd held her hair back from her face as she retched over the toilet bowl, and he'd rubbed the aching muscles in her back. When she'd finished rinsing her mouth and brushing her teeth, he scooped her up and took her to bed, where he held her until she stopped shaking. No sexual overtures, just the comfort of his solidly muscled body enveloping hers, keeping her warm and safe until she was in charge of her emotions again.
In truth, with an über-sexy alpha male like Wulf around, Chalcey was kidding herself if she believed she was in charge of anything. Like the side of the bed she preferred, for example. Her favorite side was now his side.
And speaking of beds—specifically the things men and women tended to do in them—he was beyond amazing. When they made love, he savored every inch of her body, playing her until she was taut as a bowstring, whimpering with need. Only then would he give her what she wanted and enter her, filling the cold, empty place where her fear of losing him lurked.
He'd also repeated the shower incident with more than interest. And he'd seduced her atop her small kitchen table, which now had a distinct wobble and would never be the same again. Not to mention the stairwell, and a few other places she would never have thought of trying.
Chalcey had morphed from a woman more than capable of justifying her lack of opportunities to have sex—and happy to ignore the lack—to insatiable. She couldn't get enough of him. Didn't matter what time he got home from his bouncer gig, she would awake the instant he stepped foot in her bedroom. And damned if she wouldn't be ready for him. In the deepest darkest recesses of her soul, she knew it wasn't real, it wasn't her. She wasn't a rampant sex fiend. She was terrified of failing him, losing him, and the sex was her way of indelibly etching him onto her heart. She knew all this and she didn't care.
As Wulf had done with her body, he even made the name "Chalcey" his own. No one else said it quite like him. No one else could imbue that particular combination of letters with such incredible intimacy and lush promises of bare skin, entwined limbs and drawn-out pleasure. There was definitely something to be said for a guy with an accent. Not to mention a guy who insisted that her full name, Chalcedony, fitted her perfectly in every way.
According to Wulf it was a unique name, a name as beautiful and sensual as the crystal itself. Chalcey, stubborn to the last, disputed this quite vehemently.
As soon as she'd been old enough to understand how weird a name she'd been stuck with, Chalcey had demanded that her mother show her a piece of chalcedony. And she'd been majorly disappointed—so disappointed, in fact, that she'd burst into tears and begged her mother to change her name. There'd been nothing beautiful or sensual about the dirty-white geode her mother had produced. And not even the polished crystal Francesca had ordered in an attempt at appeasement had impressed Chalcey. Was she supposed to be pleased that while other girls' mothers named them things like Emily and Laurel and Susan, she'd been named after a creamy white egg-shaped stone marred with veins of freaky-looking lava-orange?
Wulf had soon banished her long held childhood dismay by describing chalcedony as he knew it. Blue chalcedony. A crystal that, once tumbled and polished, glowed with an unearthly beauty that had stolen his breath. The online image he'd shown her had finally smothered any belief that he'd been exaggerating. And for the first time in her life, Chalcey found herself liking the full version of her name.
About the only fly in the ointment were the relentless prank calls. Her answering machine was so inundated with them that weeding out the genuine calls had become a mission in frustration. If her studio wasn't so new, and she hadn't already invested in advertising and business cards, she'd have considered changing her number. She didn't believe Ray was the culprit—not even he could be so stupid. He had to know he'd be the prime suspect. Call her paranoid, but she was considering taking Jai with her to bank the class takings. No point taking unnecessary risks if there was some weirdo out there who looked on a dance studio as an easy target.
Chalcey perched on the edge of the desk in her tiny office to leaf through a bundle of mail. She examined the envelope from her accountant more closely. Funny. It didn't look like his usual bi-monthly newsletter that she usually tossed unread.
She ripped open the envelope and read through the letter. "Shit. Shit. Shit! It's not fucking fair!"
"What is wrong, Chalcey?" Wulf asked.
She tossed the letter aside and then slumped, hugging her middle. "Seems my accountant's screwed up my tax returns—only like, ever since I took him on. And with back taxes, the IRS says I owe six grand. Six frickin' grand! He apologizes for the mistake. Mistake? God! I am so firing his ass!"
She chewed her nails as she reviewed her woefully limited options, barely noticing when Wulf gently removed her fingers from her mouth. "I've got enough put away to cover upcoming expenses and the lease payment due in a couple of weeks," she said, "but not enough to cover this, as well. My bank manager and the finance company I approached have already turned me down. I am so screwed. Fuck."
Wulf cupped her hand around a mug of freshly plunged coffee and sprawled on her two-seater couch to drink his own. "Explain this finance company to me please, Chalcey. Is it akin to a moneylender?"
She took a bracing sip of coffee. "Exactly right. Except in this case, 'money-lending' is a misnomer because the miserly bastards aren't damned well lending me any. Both said basically the same thing. The area's not that flash and I won't attract the student numbers I need. Income from a dance studio is erratic, and I'm too inexperienced at running a business to be a good credit risk. I don't have any collateral so if I default on my payments they have nothing to sell up to recoup their losses. Yadda yadda."
"Are they in any way correct, or do they merely breathe wind through the holes in their arses?"
She inhaled her mouthful of coffee and managed to splutter, "Good one!" before a coughing fit got the better of her. "Gahhh.... Ahem! That's better. Well for a start, yes, the income from a dance studio can be erratic, but I'm hardly a profligate spender and I'm smart enough to squirrel away money from the boom times to offset a sharp decrease in class numbers. And as for my experience? They want experience, I can give them fricking experience. I've been ballroom dancing since the ripe old age of five and I've been a dance teacher at other studios since I was fifteen. I've always been able to attract new students to my classes—and keep them. On top of all that, I'm a damn good teacher and there're at least a half dozen studios that'd offer me a job tomorrow. But I don't want that. I want my own studio. All I need is a chance. I can make this work. I know I can."
He launched himself from his prone position on the couch to tug her away from her perch on the table. Chalcey didn't protest when he settled her in his lap and kneaded the frustration and panic from her shoulders with strong, capable fingers. "I believe in you, Chalcey. And so do Jai, Paulo and Leah. When I watch you dance, I see passion and joy and pure love of the dance. Others see it too, and that is why they want you to teach them to dance—so they may experience for themselves just a tiny bit of what they see in your face."
Tears burned her eyes. Aside from her dad, no man had ever praised her like that before. Or shown such implicit faith in her. As soon as she'd hit puberty and her breasts had ballooned to their current overly generous proportions, any male over the age of about thirteen had been more interested in her chest than what made her tick. It had taken a displaced warrior from another world and a time centuries past, to look deep into her soul and know the joy that consumed her when she danced.
The prospect of being hounded by the IRS brought her plummeting back to earth. "Thanks, Wulf. You're wonderful, you know that?" She reached up to urge his face closer so she could reward him with a kiss. And oh, it was all she could do not to deepen that kiss and take it to the next level. It was damned near impossible to tear herself away from him. His gaze told her he knew how she felt. And understood why she felt the need to distance herself.
"But the truth is, Wulf, no matter how much faith you have in me, I have to come up with a very large amount of money. And I have no idea how."
"I am given to understand that Francesca is wealthy by way of her second union. Perhaps you could ask her to help you."
"No way." She shook her head. "I borrowed money from her and Edgar once, and I swore I would never do it again. Edgar charged me as much interest as a bank would charge. And then he poked his ferrety nose into every little part of my life, confiscated my credit card and insisted on approving every single expenditure until I'd off paid the loan. It was a fricking nightmare—like having my own private IRS auditor bugging me on a daily basis."
"What about Samantha?"
"She would loan me the money like that." Chalcey clicked her fingers. "But I have to do this on my own, Wulf. I have to prove to everybody—and myself—that I can do this. If I borrow from Sam this time, what happens if I can't make the next payment? I won't use her as a cash cow. Besides, haven't you heard the old adage that you should never borrow from friends? It's a surefire way to ensure they don't remain your friends for long."
He rested his chin atop of her head and hugged her close to his chest. "You will think of a way. Why do you not talk to Sam, anyway? She may have some ideas. She is very clever. I believe she works hard to hide her intelligence, believing it not appealing to the men she pursues."
"Mmmm. Might just do that."
"Do not fret, Chalcedony. This will all work out, you will see."
She heard Jai yodel at her from the studio—a not-so-subtle hint about the time. "Uh oh, duty calls. Time to go get ready for the class."
Wulf released her and she stood, smoothing her skirt over her thighs. "Sure you don't want to join in, Wulf? You must get awfully bored just sitting there watching. I'm sure there'd be no problems rustling you up a willing partner."
"No thank you, Chalcey. I am happy to watch you. I do not find it at all boring."
Apprehension scuttled tiny centipede-like feet over her skin. Would he be content to sit around and watch her after the Testing? Would he be this besotted with her after his curse was lifted and he was stuck with her for life?
Crap. She wasn't gonna go there at the moment, not with the specter of a hefty tax bill hanging over her. She pasted a bright smile on her face. "Better get a shirt on then, or all the ladies in the class will be watching you instead of me."
More often than not Wulf didn't bother with a shirt. In the studio it was either bare chest rippling with muscles and washboard abs, or his leather vest. Right now it was bare chest. Like she was ever going to complain.
During his stints as a bouncer, he compromised by wearing the clothes he'd arrived in, along with the outrageously expensive full-length leather duster that Sam had bought him as a gift to celebrate his new job. In the unorthodox garb, he somehow managed to contrive to look both sexy and menacing at the same time. It was a truly hot look. But for Chalcey, the bare chested look was even hotter. She burned to get him alone, run her palms over his body, and have her wicked, wicked way with him.
"Sure you don't want to join in?" she asked, hyper-aware that she sounded husky with want and need.
"I am a warrior, not a dancer. I am sure."
"Okay," she said. "But don't let watching the class stop you from catching some shut-eye. You haven't been getting much sleep lately."
He quirked an eyebrow. "How can I sleep when you are so enticing, Chalcey? 'Tis your fault I get no rest. You are insatiable."
"Humph!" She turned on her heel and walked out before he spotted her blushing.
Wulf followed her into the studio to greet Jai, before disappearing into the bedroom. Her gaze followed him. Her breath sighed out, signaling her longing. And her sigh was echoed by both Jai and a new female student who'd arrived early to enroll.
"Whoa, mama!" Jai fanned himself with his hands. "The temperature's rising, it isn't surprising that he—"
"Certainly can can-can!" The newcomer finished off the song lyric with a throaty laugh. She stuck out her hand. "Hi, I'm Esmeralda. You must be Chalcey. And he must be... yours?"
Chalcey shook her proffered hand. "Who? Jai? Not hardly. Sorry, Jai. No offence."
"None taken, doll."
"I mean Mr. Bare-chested Warrior King," Esmeralda said.
"Ohhh. Him. Yes, Wulf's definitely mine." She couldn't help her terribly smug smile.
"Pity!" Both Jai and Esmeralda chorused.
Covertly, Chalcey checked Esmeralda out. She had long-lashed eyes of a blue so deep that it was almost purple, a café au lait complexion that even a certain actress cum Revlon model would envy, and a tall, leggy figure à la a famous Australian lingerie model. Complete with expertly applied cosmetics, figure-hugging dress, and high-heeled sandals, she was an exquisite package. With a big secret.
"To answer your question, yes," Esmeralda said.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to be rude."
Esmeralda's practiced smile didn't reach her eyes. "Am I likely to be a problem for you?"
"Not me personally, but it sort of depends on what exactly you're looking to get out of the class, Esmeralda. If you're looking for dating material, then so long as no one gets upset during class-time, it's none of my business. However, anyone acting inappropriately or obviously sleeping their way through my students will be subjected to a personal dressing down from moi, and a referral to a dating agency. Is that likely to be a problem for you?"
"Not a bit, Chalcey. I'm here to have fun and learn to dance."
It was Chalcey's turn to smile. Genuinely. "It doesn't mean you can't flirt and have lots of fun. And shit, girl, the way you're put together, I reckon you'll be having heaps of fun."
Esmeralda beamed. "When I rang, Jai said you'd be cool with it."
"Oh, I'm cool with it. In fact, from my lofty pedestal of hindsight, I'm looking forward to watching two certain men in the next class pant after you."
Jai's eyes lit up and what could only be described as an evil smile flit across his handsome face. "You mean the unlovely Patrick and his partner in slime, Cliff?"
"Correctamundo," Chalcey said. "Gold star for you."
"Oooh, yes!" Jai rubbed his hands together and performed a little dance of mock glee. "They need to learn a lesson about keeping their hands to themselves and you're sooo their type, Esmeralda. I'll give you the nod when our boys arrive and then you can unleash your charms on them."
"I do appreciate the opportunity to hone my flirting techniques," Esmeralda purred, fluttering her eyelashes at Chalcey and thrusting out her chest. "Wouldn't do to lose my touch."
"You go, girl," Jai said.
"Play nice, you two," Chalcey said. "I don't want any trouble."
"You mean any more trouble, Ms I-Had-Two-Men-Fighting-Over-Me Laureano."
"Gee, thanks so much for reminding me of that particular episode, Jai."
People began to filter in to the studio and mill around by the payment desk. "That's my cue to go extort some money," Chalcey said. "And Esmeralda?"
"Yes?"
Chalcey patted her arm. "I really hope you do find a nice, understanding man."
"Thanks." Pain creased her smooth features for a moment. And then Jai engaged her in a whispered conversation and pointed out a man who'd just walked in, and was arrogantly surveying the room like it was his own little empire.
Esmeralda and Jai giggled like highschoolers.
Chalcey bit her lip to hide her smirk. Let the games begin.
The class she was teaching for this particular timeslot was beginners' Ceroc, also known as French Rock Jive. Ceroc is a fun, upbeat partner dance, done to any sort of music with a decent beat, perfect for those who are uncomfortable with the flamboyant nature of Salsa, or being mashed up against a stranger's groin as per the Lambada.
Because many brave souls like Esmeralda dared front-up to a class solo, there were usually uneven numbers of males and females, which suited Chalcey fine. She preferred to organize the class into pairs and work a rotation scheme. So if, say, there were two extra women, after the first move had been walked through, she asked the guys to stay put, and all the women to "move down two guys" and dance with a new man, leaving two new women to stand out for a rotation. Many people who came with partners were rather disconcerted to find themselves split up for most of the class but Chalcey firmly insisted they would learn the moves more quickly if they danced with other people. Most students quickly became comfortable with the concept. As an added bonus for the dance teacher, there was less likely to be sniping between permanent couples because "he isn't leading properly" or "she keeps trying to lead".
This evening's class had three too many women, including Esmeralda, so all the women on the dance floor would have to move down three men. Chalcey started the class, and once the melee of moving down was sorted, everyone relaxed and became absorbed in the lesson.
"Right everyone," Chalcey said, raising her voice to be heard over the chatter. "Now you've got the aptly titled First Move down pat, let's move on. The next move is the Comb. It's a move used by the male lead to change hands in preparation for a right-hand move coming up next. Jai's gonna demonstrate it for you."
Esmeralda caught on really quickly and was soon flashing her sexy smile at her various partners. Chalcey noticed that she upped the wattage to devastating effect whenever she paired up with Patrick or Cliff.
Both men seemed smitten. Chalcey wondered what Esmeralda would do if any man in this class made a serious play for her. Date him, and hope he'd be understanding when she revealed her true self? Be upfront right from the start and risk scaring him off? Esmeralda was a big girl and Chalcey had no doubt she could handle herself, but it had to be rough. Real rough.
"All right, move down three guys. Cool. So now we'll walk you through the First Move, followed by the Comb, and add on the Shoulder-pull."
She generally taught beginners between six and eight moves, which all joined together in a mini-routine. In the half-hour changeover period before the next class started, she and Jai would keep the music going to encourage groups to stay on and try out what they'd learned. Chalcey loved watching the students who felt confident enough to ask someone other than the partner they'd come with to dance. After a few weeks, if all went well, a core group would start meeting up to go clubbing and show off their new moves, which was good for business. Word of mouth beat formal advertising hands down.
The hour-and-a-half-long class was about three quarters through when Wulf took up his customary seat on one of the stools by the water cooler. Thank goodness he'd put on a shirt, meaning she might actually be able to concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing.
"Okay, ladies and gents, let's put these moves to the music." She winked at him as she bent to select a track of appropriate dance music for beginners. "Hiya."
"Hello, Chalcey."
The way he said her name, all sensuous syllables and soft promises. The way he looked at her—like he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and cart her off to the bedroom. Her pulse raced and heat rushed straight to her sweet spot. Her nipples tightened as though he'd run his fingertips over her breasts, even though he hadn't even moved from his seat. And from the slight smile playing on his lips, he knew exactly the effect he had on her. He was pure seduction, all-consuming and addictive. She didn't stand a chance.
She sucked in a deep, calming breath. She'd already pressed Play on her iPod when the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. Turning to face her class again, she found every single gaze focused intently on her and Wulf. It seemed as though their private desires had suddenly become tangible, ensnaring her students, provoking them to respond in kind. Their glazed, hooded eyes and parted lips reflected Chalcey's own lust. The studio oozed sexual desire.
Jai stared at Wulf, his gaze glittering with hunger. He ran his tongue over his lower lip and his mouth curved in a sultry smile.
"Jesus, Jai!" Chalcey grabbed her dance partner's hand and dug her nails into his palm. "Snap out of it."
He blinked, and shook his head. "Shit, girl, I feel like I've just popped a handful of Viagra. The heat you two generate is dan-ger-ous!"
"Sorry. I don't know what just happened but—"
He glanced down at his groin and grimaced. "Don't worry 'bout it. More action than I've had in a while. Let's get this class going again before we have an orgy on our hands."
Chalcey spared a glance at Wulf, but he appeared just as confused as she was right now. She had no choice but to put this bizarre incident behind her. "Right, everyone!" She clapped her hands sharply to get the class's attention, and started in with the instructions. "Starting with guy's left hand holding lady's right, beginning with the First Move then Comb. Ready? Listen for that beat. And one, and two, and three, four! Step out, together, and swivel and back—"
As she yelled the familiar instructions over the music, she swept an anxious glance over her students. The spell she and Wulf had inadvertently cast had dissipated, thank God. Their eyes had lost that burning longing. Everything was back to normal. Well, as normal as her life could be right now.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted Sam heading for Wulf.
Cool! She'd been nagging Sam for ages to come and watch a class. Or even better, join in. She wondered who Sam had brought along to partner her, or whether she'd come solo.
Then she saw Ray enter through the stairwell door. He glanced around and sauntered over to the rear of the studio, where he lounged against the wall to watch the class.
God. Why me? Please don't do this to me.
It would be damn hard to act professional and suck up her animosity if Ray wanted to sign up for a class. Presuming that's what he was hanging around for. Presuming he wasn't waiting for Sam. He had some nerve. What the hell was he playing at?
Screw being professional. As soon as class was over, she was going to ask him to leave. Chalcey wasn't the type to pick and choose her students, but there had to be some benefits of owning her own studio.
Sam jerked and then stiffened. She'd obviously spotted Ray but was pretending to ignore him. Smart girl. If Ray became a problem, Chalcey would sic Wulf on him and—
A noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl rumbled from the stool where Wulf was sitting. Oh crap. Sam, Wulf and Ray in the same room?
Disaster potential: one hundred percent. Couldn't get any worse—
Duh. Of course it fricking well could. Marcus strolled through the doorway and made a beeline toward Sam. He greeted Wulf with a handshake, and then bent to kiss Sam's cheek.
Chalcey's heart fluttered with gooey relief. Sam had rung him and was gonna give him another chance. Woohoo! Go Marcus. Now if he could just hold himself in check and play it casual so as not to scare Sam off again, they might make it.
Sam whispered something to Marcus. Marcus's chin jerked around. He appeared less than thrilled when he caught sight of Ray.
"Move down three guys!" Chalcey yelled, her gaze riveted on the drama unfolding while the female students all found a new dance partner.
Ray sneered at Marcus. Marcus glowered back. The ambience in the room cooled until it began to feel like Chalcey had been caught buck naked during a hoar frost. Chilly didn't even begin to describe it.
Oh joy. With an inward groan, she focused on her students. Please remind me again why on earth I ever wanted to be a dance teacher and have to deal with real, live people on a daily basis?
"Everything okay, doll?" Jai said. "You seem distracted."
"Tell you later." Unless Ray or Marcus or Wulf—or even Sam—did something stupid. In which case she'd fill him in immediately. For now, all she could do was pray everyone would hold their tempers.
~*~
As the class—thankfully—ended, Chalcey glimpsed Sam speaking earnestly to Marcus and placing a cautionary hand on his arm. He shook her off and headed straight for Ray. Sam turned a stricken face to Wulf, and he seemed to be trying to comfort her. Chalcey didn't need to be a rocket scientist to know a potentially disastrous testosterone-fueled confrontation was headed her way. Again.
"Er, Jai?" She yanked his sleeve to get his attention. "See that sleazy looking blond guy? Well, his name is Ray, and he's not too popular with either Wulf or Marcus, that scowling dark-haired guy with the Van Dyke beard."
"Oh?" Jai, scenting gossip, inevitably asked, "Why's that?"
"Long story. Tell you all about it later."
"You'd better, if you know what's good for you." He practiced his most menacing frown and cracked his knuckles so loudly that Chalcey winced in sympathy. "Want me to tell this Ray guy to vamoose?"
While Chalcey was weighing up her limited options, Ray solved the problem by slinking off toward the door, and she lost sight of him in the crowd of people who'd arrived early to get in some freestyle before the next class.
Wulf had gone over to talk to Marcus and both men appeared relaxed. Chalcey heaved a relieved sigh. "Crisis averted, Jai. Target has removed himself from imminent peril by pissing off out of here."
"You know, Chalce, that faux military-speak's sooo hawt! Suppose you and Wulf get off on playing with his stiff little soldier, huh?"
She whacked him on the arm. "God, Jai. You are so disgusting!"
Jai preened. "I try babe, I try. Uh oh. Scanners reading a male of unknown origin performing an illegal maneuver, resulting in injury to his partner's toes. Target acquired. Moving in to rectify situation before permanent damage is done."
She groaned at his attempt at a computerized voice. "Oh, do go away and leave me in peace."
He saluted as he marched off.
Chalcey had just decided to grab a stool and put her feet up before the next class began, when he rematerialized at her side. "Some of the newbies want to see some real Ceroc, Chalce. Feel up for a demo?"
She groaned. "Do I have to?"
"Yes."
"But—"
"C'mon, Chalce. Beginners are our bread and butter, and we need them to want to move up to Intermediate and Advanced. I know we both enjoy teaching beginners but it's not exactly stretching our skills, so let's show them a bit of freestyle to give them something to aim for. It's good for business."
"I know, I know. Preaching to the converted. All right, choose some music and please, don't try any of those new Advanced moves we've been practicing, okay? The last thing I need right now is to land on my ass in front of a load of beginners. That definitely wouldn't be good for business."
"Darling, I promise that even if you do end up on your ass, I'll make you look sensational. After all, as my old ballroom teacher used to say: The woman is the picture and the man is the frame."
She mimed sticking her fingers down her throat.
Jai flicked through her iPod playlist and sniggered. "Jimmy Sommerville's Comment Te Dire Adieu? Talk about blast from the past."
"Yeah, all right. Guilty as charged but it's a solid one-hundred-thirty beats per minute for when my beginners are ready for a bit of a challenge. And as I'm not made of money, and don't have the time to be fanatically up with the latest music like you are, Paulo very kindly ripped all my CDs onto my old laptop and loaded them onto my iPod. If Jimmy doesn't do it for you, how 'bout some Corona—Rhythm of the Night?"
He made a face. "It'll have to do, I suppose."
"Music snob."
"Music tight-ass. With, like, the most appalling taste in music evah." He pressed Play and grabbed her hand.
It felt good to be challenged for a change. Demos were choreographed to the nth degree, whereas freestyle had that element of surprise about it. Chalcey had to watch and feel her partner's lead, be relaxed enough to be led by him, but vigilant enough to anticipate his next move. And if she got caught out, so long as she improvised and did something, rather than standing there like a ditz, no one watching would even realize she'd stuffed up.
Jai was nothing if not inventive with the way he put moves together, so Chalcey was having loads of fun. Until she spotted Ray again. He was like a bad smell that wouldn't go away. He grabbed Esmeralda's arm and yanked her toward him to whisper in her ear.
"C'mon, you intermediate level dancers, don't be shy!" Jai encouraged some of the more advanced students to take the dance floor.
When Chalcey next caught a glimpse of Ray and Esmeralda, surprisingly, they were dancing. But Esmeralda had taken on the role of male lead. What stood out for Chalcey in that brief moment was the misery distorting Esmeralda's lovely face.
Jai set Chalcey up for a Drop Kick, supporting her under the armpits as she shifted her weight to her left leg, and pulling her backward into his arms. He bent down so far her backside almost touched the floor as she kicked her right leg high in the air. When he brought her back upright, Chalcey's gaze honed in on Ray just in time to see him grope Esmeralda's breasts. Chalcey expected the über-confident Esmeralda to immediately assert herself and slap Ray's face, and readied herself to stop the demo and back Esmeralda up. Instead, she was shocked to see Esmeralda swipe at her eyes with the back of a hand.
"Wind it up, Jai. We've got trouble."
"Sure thing, babe. Is it the same guy you mentioned before? I spotted him sneaking back in."
"Mmm hmm. He's pawing Esmeralda."
"Asshole."
Jai finished with a Killer Pretzel, an Unravel/Ravel/Seducer combo, then stepped away from Chalcey and bowed. Amidst applause from the onlookers, they both advanced upon Ray.
Chalcey was beyond angry at his behavior. How dare he treat a woman like that! And in her dance studio. He was gonna be out that door so fast he wouldn't know what had hit his nasty ass.
Before she could get to him, Marcus intervened. He dragged Ray away from Esmeralda and crowded him back against the wall. Chalcey heard Marcus snarl at Ray, who of course took umbrage and swung wildly at him. Marcus ducked, and stiff-armed Ray across the neck, pinning him against the wall.
"Break it up, you two!" Jai barked.
Chalcey had opened her mouth to support Jai when from behind her, Wulf's voice rumbled, "Or you will be forced to deal with me."
Marcus released Ray, and the two antagonists stared at Chalcey for a moment, as if trying to figure out how the heck that voice, so heavy with menace, could possibly have issued from her mouth.
Recognition dawned on Ray's face. His gaze darted about, searching for an escape route.
Sam and Esmeralda stepped out from behind Wulf. Perfect timing. Nothing like solidarity in the face of an asshole.
Sam slipped an arm around Esmeralda's shoulders. "Don't, Wulf," Sam said. "He's so not worth the effort. And if he pressed charges, you'd lose your job."
"Wha'sa matter, Sam?" Ray sneered, refusing to be cowed. "Men not enough for you anymore? You hooked up with that—" he pointed to Esmeralda "—now, huh? Even for you, that's a real lowering of standards."
Good one. He sure had some mouth on him. And a short life-expectancy, if Sam and Esmeralda's narrow-eyed, furious faces were anything to go by.
Both women lunged forward but were grabbed before they could inflict any serious bodily harm. Marcus took charge of Sam. Jai had his hands full with Esmeralda. Chalcey supposed she should have been grateful to both men for preventing a scene but secretly, she was disappointed. She would have quite enjoyed the spectacle of Sam and Esmeralda pounding Ray to a pulp. Sometimes it was a real bummer being a responsible adult.
Revenge, however, was very sweet. "Ray," she cooed. "I have some wonderful news for you. You're no longer welcome at my studio and you're banned until further notice—like when hell freezes over. Now you're obliged to vacate the premises. But because I'm basically a decent person, you get to choose how you do that. You can either slime out of here under your own steam, or Wulf will kick you down the stairwell and turf you out on your sorry ass while we all cheer him on. Your choice."
Ray sneered some more. "That right?"
Dick-for-brains. Couldn't he see he was outnumbered big-time?
"That is right." Wulf stepped forward and cracked his knuckles. "It has been a while since I have been afforded the pleasure of a one-on-one fight with a worthy opponent. Unfortunately, I do not believe you to be particularly worthy, but one must take one's pleasures where one is able." He directed his next comment toward Chalcey. "I do hope his blood doesn't stain this shirt. 'Tis a favorite of mine."
She swallowed an inappropriate giggle as Ray visibly gulped and turned an interesting shade of green.
"Are you ready to fight me, Ray?" Wulf bent his knees, dropping down into a fighting stance. He projected lethal power, his entire body coiled and awaiting the opportunity to inflict some major pain.
Ray was obviously thinking along similar lines, for he straightened his clothing and opted to leave. His eyes glittered with impotent fury. Or drugs. Chalcey was ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain he was on something. He cast her a filthy look that promised retribution as he exited the studio.
"I will follow to make sure he leaves," Wulf said, striding toward the door.
"Good idea. Be careful."
"Sorry about that, folks," Jai said, for the benefit of those who'd witnessed the altercation. "He's just some scumbag who thinks he can come in here to feel up women, and make a nuisance of himself. But we don't put up with that crap. Ever. Anyone got any problems with the way they're being treated by another student, they come and see me or Chalcey, okay?"
Chalcey noticed Patrick and Cliff, who were both walking the line with their antics so far as she was concerned, looking decidedly less confident. Good. At least there'd been a silver lining to this crap.
"Glad that's over," Jai said, vast relief coloring his tone. "That Ray guy's a real lowlife. Can't think why any self-respecting woman would want anything to do with him."
"Yes, well." Sam had the grace to blush as she shot an apologetic glance at Esmeralda.
"I'm fine, sweetie," Esmeralda assured her.
"So what are you and Marcus doing here?" Chalcey asked, taking Esmeralda's pleading expression as her cue to change the subject.
"Marcus tracked me down and invited me along to watch a class," she confessed. "We thought we might try the beginners Ceroc class."
"You'll love it!" Chalcey said, beaming. "The intermediate class starts in about ten minutes." She wiggled her eyebrows and mouthed, "Tell me all about him later!" behind Marcus's back.
An eager female student dragged Jai away to show her a move, and some semblance of normality descended.
Wulf reappeared, and Esmeralda thanked him and Marcus for sticking up for her. Although she seemed calm enough, her voice shook a little.
Chalcey's brain kicked into gear and suggested a brilliant way to help Esmeralda forget all the unpleasantness. "Esmeralda, I've got to cash up and get ready for the next class. Why don't you do me a huge favor and show Wulf some moves? I'm dying to get him to join in a class."
They both eyed her doubtfully.
"Go on. You've got the routine we learned tonight pretty much down, Esmeralda. You should have no trouble talking him through it." Chalcey walked off and left them to it before either could raise any protests.
While she cashed up and got ready for the next class, she snuck glances at them. Once Wulf loosened up, he wasn't a half bad dancer. He certainly had rhythm, and the two of them danced quite well for absolute beginners. Her attention was diverted by a couple of brand new students but when she next spotted them, Esmeralda had a smile on her face that could have lit the room. "See you next week!" she trilled as she departed with a bunch of other students.
Wulf waited until Chalcey finished signing in the newbies before he approached. His brows were scrunched, eyes narrowed, lips downturned—a man who'd been thinking real hard about something, was still puzzled, and was about to tip over into frustrated as heck if he didn't get some answers.
"What's up?" she asked. "Surely it wasn't that bad. I thought you both looked great out there."
"She— Esmeralda. She is woman who is not truly a woman."
"That's right. She's a man who dresses like a woman."
"But if she is a man, then how can she have real breasts?"
Ah. This wasn't gonna be easy to explain. "My guess is that she takes female hormones and has had a breast augmentation—that's when doctors uh, operate to give a man like Esmeralda breasts, or a woman bigger breasts. So, Esmeralda looks like a woman on the outside, but unless she's had a complete sex change, she's still a man from the waist down. If that makes sense."
It took him a while but he eventually got it. And, inevitably, had more questions.
"This sex change. Your world has methods of making a man fully into a woman?"
"Yep."
"How?"
Now it was Chalcey's turn to blush. "Um... it's not something we should discuss in public, okay? Uncomfortably graphic and all that. Just take my word for it. Surgeons—you know what a surgeon is?"
He nodded. "I watched ER with Samantha."
"Right. Of course you did." Sam had a secret that no one else knew. She liked to chill out on a Sunday morning and watch DVD episodes of ER. And Grey's Anatomy. She even liked Nip/Tuck.
"These days," Chalcey said, "surgeons can operate on men to change them into women so you'd never know to look at them."
Horror flitted briefly across his face, then acceptance and finally, wonder. He shook his head. "'Tis an amazing world you live in, Chalcey. Amazing indeed. Full of wonders I could never possibly have imagined."
"And that's a good thing, I hope?"
"Indeed."
"I take it you'd be quite happy to stay on then, if everything works out for us?"
His answering smile melted her heart. "My life would not be worth a single grain of sand without you, Chalcey."
She smiled back. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me in my whole life. C'mere." He bent so she could kiss him on the cheek.
"Chalcey," he murmured, his voice making her shiver with want. "Samantha tells me she has devised some plans to alleviate your lack of funds."
She puffed out a sigh. Back to reality. Money troubles would do it every time. "I just bet she has. And they're all probably completely outrageous, if I know her. I don't even want to think about that little problem right now, 'coz I've got to get this next class underway."
He kissed her. Lingeringly. With tongue. "Then I ask that you think of me until I return from my work, Chalcey."
"Oh, I will," she promised, resisting the urge to fan the heat from her face. "I certainly will."
He slanted her a toe-curling, wholly masculine look, that told her he knew exactly what kind of naughty thoughts she'd been thinking. She watched him until the door closed behind him, releasing her from his spell.
She glanced at Mickey and heaved a sigh. Roll on the hours. She turned her mind back to her upcoming class and tried not to be distracted by thoughts of the things she and Wulf would get up to as soon as he returned from his shift. Rippling muscles and bare, sun-darkened skin. His thick, dark hair tickling across her flesh as he kissed his way down her body....
Hoh boy. She sure had it bad. If their sexes were reversed and she had the misfortune to possess a penis, it would be permanently upstanding. When Wulf was with her, she was sexually aroused. And when he wasn't with her, she was thinking of him and aroused. He did things for her libido she never thought possible.
Her life was just about perfect. Well, except for her cash-flow issues. And the big-ass specter of the Testing hanging over her.
The Testing....
Shit. Chalcey had never been very good at taking tests. As a kid, her mind tended to go into full-on panic mode and present her with a big fat blank, no matter how much prep she'd done.
If she flunked this one, she'd never forgive herself.
~*~
Copyright 2011 by Maree Anderson
www.mareeanderson.com