Page 124 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

The competition continues, with some of the competitors giving us a good run for our money, but when it comes to the results and prizes, we discover we’ve come second, and go up to collect a small trophy and our prize—a box of chocolates.

“Woo!” Elora waves the trophy as we return to our seats. “I think that’s the first trophy I’ve ever won, apart from a spelling bee when I was twelve.”

“This was much more fun.”

“I have to agree with you.” We sit back at the table and sip our drinks, then look up as the lights are lowered and the organizers declare it’s time for some dancing. There’s a small dance floor in front of the stage and a DJ stands off to the side, opening the music with the Bee Gees’ Staying Alive. Disco lights start flashing, and the music, while not loud enough to drown out conversation, vibrates through the floor, all the way up through me.

“I love disco,” I tell her. Feeling adventurous, I put down my drink, get to my feet, and hold out my hand. “Come on, Cinderella.”

She stares at me in shock for, like, the fifteenth time that evening. “You’re kidding me.”

“Look at my face. Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“The music has just started, Linc.”

“I know. It’s a brilliant song.”

“Nobody’s dancing yet.”

“Someone has to be first.”

“But it doesn’t have to be us.”

It’s impossible to stay still with the beat in my veins, and I start dancing in front of her. “Come on. Make my day.”

She shakes her head.

“I’m not stopping,” I tell her. “I’m going to stand in front of you for the whole song if I have to.”

“Have at it,” she says. “I’m not getting up.”

I purse my lips. It’s going to be kinda embarrassing if she doesn’t join me. People are already starting to look.

But I was never one to flinch first when playing chicken. I want to dance with Elora, and I’m going to stand here until she’s so embarrassed at how I’m making a fool of myself that she’ll have to get up.

*

Elora

Ho-lee shit… Linc is standing in front of me, dancing, and it doesn’t look as if he’s going to stop anytime soon.

Most men I know, including my father, Fraser, and Joel, can just about manage a shuffle around the dance floor with a partner, but they draw the line at disco dancing, too self-conscious to get up there and boogie.

Linc, unsurprisingly, has no such worry. Wow, the dude can move. He moves perfectly to the music, clapping his hands occasionally, and at one point does a spin on the spot that makes those around him cheer.

He’s hoping to embarrass me into getting up, but there’s no way I’m being the first on the dance floor. So I sit back, fold my arms, and glower at him a little.

Unperturbed, he gives a short laugh and continues, throwing himself into his little routine. Oh man, he’s really going for it. People are starting to clap along with the music, enjoying his performance, and as he moves closer to me, the whistles start.

He’s now standing just a foot away, and he slows down his movements and starts dancing more sensually, winding his hips, fixing his gaze on mine. Oh shit, he’s giving me a fucking lap dance in front of everyone. My face heats until it burns, and he notices, but he just grins and carries on. He’s really not going to stop. Well, it’s his own fault if he makes a fool of himself.

I think he’s starting to realize that I’m not giving in. He’s still dancing, but his brows draw together, and he says, “Aw, Lora, come on…”

I’m about to shake my head when I glance around and realize that everyone’s watching us. They’re all cheering, and several of the women gesture at me as I catch their eye and mouth, “Go on!” I look at Alethea, and I can see the pity on her face, not for me but for Linc, who’s standing there in front of everyone, dancing just for me, and now on the verge of embarrassing himself if I don’t get up.

I blow out a breath, cursing him silently, then extend a hand, and he whoops and takes it, pulling me to my feet. The crowd cheers as he leads me to the dance floor, and I thank the gods that I’ve had two glasses of wine tonight, because as he spins me into his arms, I put aside my insecurities and shyness and start dancing. I know that half—if not all—the women in the room would give everything they own to be in my shoes. So screw it—what’s the worst that can happen?

I try not to think about falling over in my high heels and making a complete fool of myself, and instead dance with the gorgeous man in front of me. I don’t remember him dancing much as a kid—it must have been something he got into as an adult—but he’s super good at it, and he moves so well. He slides an arm around my waist, and we move together for a while, and then we move apart and dance separately. I’ll never be as abandoned as he is, but I throw myself into it, and when the song comes to an end, the whole room cheers and claps, while Linc spins me into his arms, and we both laugh.

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