Chapter 18: Dirty Dancing

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Chapter 18: Dirty Dancing

Jamie hustled back toward the bungalow with the borrowed tiki torches under his arm. No doubt the crew would grumble about unplanned changes to the set design, but Jamie would worry about that in the morning.

Tonight, there were more pressing matters to attend.

He would have preferred candlelight to set the mood, but tiki torches would suffice. The night was warm enough to hold their ball outdoors. Jamie chose an area in front of the bungalow, relatively flat, with weeds and scrubby grass poking up out of the sand. He lit five torches with a match and arranged them in a semicircle to mark the edges of the dance floor. They filled the night air with their balmy scent.

Cora emerged from the bungalow just as Jamie finished ramming the last stake into the sand. He met his Cinderella at the bungalow's front stoop and offered her his arm. She wore a light blue slip dress, cut on the bias, that alternately skimmed and clung to every curve. Firelight glimmered against the silky fabric. She'd pulled her hair up in a twist to reveal the halter neckline and the creamy skin of her neck and shoulders.

"Where did all this come from?" she asked him, taking in his handiwork. "Did you set it up yourself?"

"My fairy godmother assisted."

Cora took his arm and let him escort her to the center of their makeshift ballroom. She looked him up and down, unabashedly taking in the view. "Nice tux."

He raised an eyebrow and finished tightening his tie. "Thank you."

"Did your fairy godmother pick that out, too?"

Jamie had attired himself for the occasion in a tuxedo jacket and black tie, with no shirt underneath. Pecs on full display. Only his boxer briefs down below. "I'm afraid she got distracted partway through."

"No, she didn't," Cora corrected him. She stepped closer and straightened his lapels. "Your fairy godmother knew exactly what she was doing."

"So did yours," he replied. With that, he pulled her close. Her dress dipped low in the back, and his hand slid across the smooth expanse of skin. One hand held hers while the other rested lightly in the hollow of her spine.

She rested her head against his shoulder, in the same spot she had placed it earlier that evening. She'd been standing in her bathrobe, when he put his arms around her and pulled her body against his. Jamie had been sorely tempted in that moment to slip his hands inside the terrycloth and dispense with any further pretense of foreplay. She'd only stopped him with the question she'd whispered in his ear.

"How do you know the names of all the characters and everything? Is Robbie feeding you the Cliff Notes?"

That comment had been nearly as revealing as the dress she had on now. It told him exactly how she viewed him. As if any sign of intelligence that tumbled from his lips could be no more than an illusion. One more bit of TV magic rigged up by the production crew. Certainly not real.

It came as no great surprise, the way she cut him down. She'd made little comments to the same effect since the day they arrived here. But still, it chafed in a way he hadn't experienced in years.

Not since his schoolboy days to be exact. A wisp of a lad on his first day of secondary school... The teacher had given a spelling test with the final word meant to be a stumper. An esoteric word with a silent 'g' that had no business being there, but Jamie had put the letters where they belonged. He had no idea what the word meant at the tender age of 12, but he must have seen it in print somewhere because he could visualize the way it looked in his head.

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