The Charleston. Georgia HillЧитать онлайн книгу.
of a mirror to achieve. Or, perhaps she was wrong? Daniel didn’t seem as vain as the other dancers. Perhaps this was how he looked when he’d just got up. Merry felt herself blush inside. She knew what it was: sheer lust. She was developing a crush on Daniel Cunningham. And it was a wholly enjoyable and familiar feeling. She’d been famous at university for never falling seriously for someone. She flirted; it was as habitual to her as breathing and she’d had one or two flings, but she’d never really had her heart touched by anyone. Not seriously. But she’d had crushes. And she loved the excitement of them. As she watched Daniel gulp down water and then wipe his mouth with the back of his hand she felt a thrill go through her. She wanted this man.
“Penny for them?” Daniel offered her a cup of water.
Merry hoped the blush stayed where it had begun; deep inside. She turned on her smile, it usually had the effect she wanted. “Oh, just thinking how quiet it had got, now the aerobics class has finished.” She took the water and drank gratefully.
“Had enough?”
“Oh no, I’m happy to carry on all night if we have to.”
Daniel laughed. “That shouldn’t be necessary. Want to have another go at the merengue?”
Merry thought about having slide up against Daniel’s crotch and her tiredness fled. “Why not?” She picked up a towel and mopped her face. Despite the lack of heating, she was working up a sweat again. Must be the exercise. Or the ultra-close proximity to Daniel’s presence. “You never know, I might even get it right this time.”
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