The band had been on a break and started a new session with a Merengue. Damian hopped up and dragged her to the dance floor.

Kerry held back, laughing the whole time. “I can’t do these fancy dances.”

“Sure you can. Follow my lead.”

He took her in his arms, and within minutes, he had them spinning on the dance floor as if they’d done it together for years. Every time Damian turned her, he tugged her closer. The scent from the flower in her hair combined with the light perfume she’d used was an aphrodisiac.

He slid his thigh between her legs, and spun her halfway across the floor. Her skirt billowed out, and her curls danced in the light of the lanterns.

Kerry threw her head back, her throat muscles moving as she laughed. He did some different movements, and each time she followed him with ease. Her beautiful, hazel eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed a deep pink.

Was this how she would look in the throes of passion?

The music reverberated through his body, tightening his gut as the woman in his arms held him captive. Her scent, her feel, her softness.

His gaze met hers, and her smile faltered as she searched his face, questioning.

The band finished the Merengue and moved quickly and easily into a slow number.

Damian cupped Kerry’s face and lowered his head. His lips pressed against hers, and she slid her palms up his chest to circle his neck. Slim fingers played with the hair at his collar. He turned their fused bodies slowly in a circle and ravished her mouth. He pressed against her lips with his tongue, seeking entrance. She opened, granting him access to the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted.