Enchanting Melody. Robyn AmosЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Melody waited in the corner of the dance studio as other couples began to arrive. As the trendy men and women around her chatted amongst themselves or practiced last week’s lesson, Mel chided herself for coming back to class.

      She didn’t fit in here. Normally, that was a good thing. But today Mel felt dopey for showing up to class fifteen minutes early. It was silly to have sweaty palms and a stomach doing somersaults. And she felt extra foolish for wearing her black pleated mini skirt to impress the teacher.

      She glanced down at the chunky sports watch on her wrist as she eyed the door. Three minutes to go. Maybe she could still—

      “Good evening, class.” Will Coleman walked into the room, eliminating all hope of a quick escape. “I’m glad to see some of you practicing.”

      Melody swallowed hard, hating the sudden giddiness she felt at the sight of him. He wore tan slacks with a fitted knit shirt that showed off his muscular build. His leather belt matched his brown loafers perfectly. He looked neat. Conservative. Delicious.

      She blinked. What was getting into her? Since when was conservative delicious?

      Feeling a tiny bit self-conscious, Mel glanced at her mirrored image on the opposite wall. He’d told them to wear leather-soled shoes. The only pair she owned were her black studded cowboy boots. With those she wore opaque gray tights and her mini skirt with black-and-white suspenders hanging free at her waist. On top she wore a black baby-T sporting the word Brat in angry white letters. To complete the look, she’d positioned two ponytails at the back of her head and then bound them together with randomly-spaced rubber bands in a variety of colors.

      This was as dressed-up as she got. So he’d damn well better appreciate it.

      Will caught her eye and gave her a warm smile. Her knees went weak. And weakness made Melody bitter. She lifted her chin, finding composure in defiance.

      “Okay, class, let’s line up. Followers on the right. Leaders on the left.”

      Melody got in line. The numbers were still uneven. Will would have to be her partner again. Her heart began to race.

      “Now that you all know the basic steps, I want you to get a feel for dancing with different partners. Start with the person directly across from you, and after a few minutes, we’ll rotate.”

      Melody’s heart sank. She was anxious to show Will how much she’d improved. At least she’d get to dance with the teacher first, she thought as he approached her.

      “Melody, do you mind practicing on your own for this round? I need to be mobile to monitor everyone’s progress,” he said quietly to her, and then more loudly, “Class, each follower will have to dance one round on their own. But don’t worry, we’ll keep rotating so everyone will have a partner most of the time.”

      It was all Mel could do not to groan out loud. Why on earth had she come back? Trying not to embarrass herself, Melody dutifully ran through the steps on her own and was feeling pretty confident when it was time to rotate.

      An older man with silver hair and a friendly smile walked up to her. He extended his hand. “Hi, my name is George.”

      “I’m Mel, um, Melody.”

      “Pleasure to meet you, Melody.” George took her into his arms. The music started and he glided with her around the floor with expertise.

      “Are you sure you need lessons?” she asked her partner.

      “This is more of a refresher course for me. My wife Gretchen is the one who really wants to learn.”

      Melody was disappointed when it was time to rotate. It had been nice to dance with someone who knew what he was doing but didn’t stir up those pesky butterflies.

      Her next partner, Scott, was a bit more of a challenge. Clearly nervous, he stayed two beats ahead of the music. Feeling good about her progress, Mel took the lead and Scott let her.

      “You’re a great dancer,” the redhead said and his face flushed as he struggled not to meet her eyes.

      “Thank you.”

      Scott moved on quickly, catching sight of the reproachful looks his girlfriend was shooting from across the room.

      Her next partner appeared before her, the stocky Italian she remembered from the previous week. “Hi, I’m Melody.”

      “Joey,” he said curtly and jerked her into position.

      His grip was tight and Melody constantly felt off balance. She tried pushing against him to get control of her footing.

      Joey clamped her into a firmer grip and physically moved her across the floor.

      “Dude, loosen up.” She pushed against him harder.

      “Hey, stop trying to lead.”

      “Fine, but you need to stop trying to bulldoze me.”

      The two of them moved awkwardly across the floor, occasionally creating so much resistance in their frame that they looked like wrestlers battling for a title belt.

      When Joey missed a beat, Mel would try to force him to catch up. “Quit leading,” Joey muttered.

      “You’re off beat.”

      “You’re supposed to follow me, no matter what.” He applied more force to their frame.

      Feeling red-hot anger creeping up her spine, Melody applied some force of her own. “It would help if you were doing it right.”

      They were so caught up in their power struggle that neither of them noticed that the music had stopped and the entire class was watching them.

      Will walked over. “What’s the problem?”

      “She won’t quit leading,” Joey piped up like the whiney tattletale he was.

      Mel took a deep breath, trying not to show Will just how evil her temper could get. “I wasn’t trying to lead,” she bit out. “I was just trying to keep him from sweeping the floor with my heels.”

      “She’s some kind of control freak.”

      Melody whirled on Joey, but before she could even think of wrapping her fingers around the man’s neck, Will had pulled her into his arms. Lifting her arm over her head, he spun her back around in a graceful twirl.

      “Okay, class, that’s enough rotating for today. Go back to your original partners. We’re going to learn some turns.”

      Chapter 3

      For the remainder of class, Will kept Melody at his side as he showed them how to add spins to the basic patterns they’d learned. Once again, as he was dismissing the students and giving them instructions on what to practice for next week, Melody tried to slip out.

      “You’re trying to sneak off again?” Will called out before she reached the door.

      She turned to face him, looking sheepish.

      “I’m going to start taking it personally.”

      She walked back over to him. “I just don’t think I have the right temperament for ballroom dancing. I’m not a let-a-guy-control-me type of girl.”

      Will let his gaze travel over Melody. She’d struck a brazen pose, hip jutted out and arms crossed. Her catlike eyes, ringed with dark liner, dared him to contradict her. No, she wasn’t the passive type.

      Speaking of types. She wasn’t his at all. Her fashion sense was a mix of goth and grunge instead of Gaultier and Gucci. Melody Rush was dark, defiant and every bit the brat her shirt proclaimed.

      He took in the shapely legs stemming from her low black cowboy boots and the rippled abs peeking out of her baby-T. On the other hand, she was sexy and he was a man. It just didn’t go much deeper