Had she really let him leave?

It was all Gina could think after Stone walked out of her apartment not five minutes after serving her up a bone-melting orgasm, and the thought continued to plague her as she entered the rehearsal room the next day.

It would suck if things were weird between them. They’d finally built up an easy intimacy, and their connection showed on the dance floor. Part of the reason why she’d held back—in addition to her personal rules—was because a fling had the potential to ruin their dancing. Right now, they had a shot at the trophy. A lightning-fast and supercharged orgasm on her sofa wasn’t worth throwing that shot away.

Well, maybe it was. It had been a stellar climax.

Stone arrived while Gina was getting her lav mic hooked up.

“Feeling better?” she asked, then bit the inside of her cheek before she could say something else stupid. Undeniable evidence of his hard-on had been pressed up against her less than twelve hours earlier. The man probably had blue balls all night, unless he’d taken matters into his own hands.

The thought of Stone jerking off in his hotel shower made her bite back a groan. She’d seen every inch of him naked, except for the few covered by his briefs during their weekly spray tanning sessions, and she was certain whatever he was hiding in those briefs was more than just a few inches. From what she’d been able to glean the night before, her mountain man was truly blessed in the penis department.

Stop thinking about his penis, Gina. Just stop it.

“Much better.” He leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek, as he did every day, even though it wasn’t natural for him. He did it because she did it.

It was a normal greeting. Maybe he wasn’t as affected by their make-out session as she was.

His beard scraped her cheek lightly and she drank in the scent of pine that clung to him like a memory. As he shifted back, their eyes met for a split-second. The fiery heat in his gaze shot straight to her core, lighting a flame within her that spread through her body like wildfire. His eyes held barely banked desire and an intensity that thrilled and shocked her.

So, he’d been affected, too.

The fire was gone a second later, replaced by friendly interest. He turned to the cameras and allowed Jordy’s assistant to mic him up while Gina was left fighting an aroused tremor.

Jordy consulted his tablet. “Before you start, we’re going to record some general soundbites to introduce next week’s dance.”

Gina stood next to Stone while the camera crew set up. Every inch of her was aware of him. She could feel the heat emanating from his big body, and it took all her concentration to remain still and keep her eyes on the cameras. For once, she wished Jordy would interview them separately, so she didn’t have to worry that the cameras would pick up on the flush of arousal spreading over her skin.

And then Donna walked in. Just great.

“Good morning.” Donna joined Jordy off-camera. “I’ll take over from here.”

Donna’s presence had the effect of a bucket of ice water. A cold sweat broke out over Gina’s body, and her muscles stiffened. Again, she wished she could complete the interview far away from Stone. Would he know that he needed to be more careful around Donna? The woman could smell weakness, and she had a sixth sense for drama. If Donna sniffed out even an inkling of what had happened between them the night before, Gina was ruined.

Luckily, Donna kept most of the questions focused on their upcoming paso doble, which was easy to talk about. The paso was one of Gina’s favorite dances to choreograph for The Dance Off, and Stone had the potential to deliver a killer performance.

So long as he stopped looking at her the way he had when he entered the room. If he kept that up, she was going to burst into flames before they even filmed episode four. And that would be really hard to hide from Donna.

“Where did you get the idea for your dance?” Donna asked.

“Honestly?” Gina grinned at Stone, recalling his confession about the bear. “The idea came to me after meeting Stone in Alaska.”

“Stone, what do you think about the choreography and the concept?”

He shrugged. “I trust Gina’s vision. She’s the expert. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not a dancer, but we’ve been here . . .” He cocked his head, met Gina’s eyes as he counted on his fingers. “Five weeks now? And with every dance, she manages to not only teach it to me, but to get me to show emotion. Gina deserves all the credit, and the screw up last week was totally my fault.”

Donna jumped on that. “Sounds like you have something to prove next week.”

Stone nodded. “Absolutely, I do. I messed up. I have to show what I can do, show the fans we’re living up to their expectations, and I have to do right by Gina.”

Gina’s cheeks heated at his praise. She couldn’t even look at him for fear of a full-out blush. He’d seemed so dismissive of her work when they started. Now, it sounded like he understood and appreciated.

Donna rounded on Gina. “It sounds like it’s going to be a sexy dance.”

Always pushing the showmance. For this dance, though, Gina could throw Donna a bone.

“It will be,” she said. “A bull fight is about dominance, power, and control. In ballroom dance, the male partner always leads, but in the paso doble, the female dancer gets to have her say. It becomes a sexual dance, the back and forth between invitation and attack as both vie for control. I love this dance—the passion, the power, and the raw sexual dynamics at play. I think the viewers will be very happy with what we bring to the dance floor.”

Donna seemed satisfied by their answers. She consulted with Jordy for a minute, then headed for the door. “Keep up the good work.”

Once she was gone, Stone held out a hand to Gina.

“Ready to dance?” he said, his mild smile at odds with the fire in his gaze. Those damn butterflies woke up and did the jitterbug in her belly.

“Sure.” Her answer came out breathy, and she prayed the mic didn’t catch the nuance. She took Stone’s hand and let him lead her to the center of the floor.

How she’d found the strength to let this man leave her apartment last night, she’d never know. Next time, she wouldn’t be so strong.

Which meant there could never be a next time.

* * *

Gina clutched Stone’s hand all through the commercial break. They were still breathing hard from delivering a paso doble that felt like fire and sex. Stone had never been more forceful and aggressive in his dancing. He’d mastered the choreography—embodying the role of the “Red-Hooded Woodsman,” as Gina named him—and conquered Gina’s wolf with every ounce of passion and dominance the paso required.

In addition to the red hood, Stone wore black “leather” pants that made his ass look fantastic, and a red and white lace-up vest that left his muscular arms bare. It was her favorite of all the costumes he’d worn. He looked like an epic fantasy hero brought to life.

Gina was dressed as a sexy wolf, with feral makeup, fake fangs, claws that made it difficult to type on her phone, and a furry hood with wolf ears. The rest of her costume consisted of a sparkly gray bra, and The Dance Off’s typical paso doble bottoms—hot pants with a long, flared skirt attached, to mimic the matador’s cape. Gina had asked the wardrobe department to line her skirt with red, to represent Red Riding Hood’s cloak.

Stone gave her fingers a squeeze, and sent her the same friendly smile and heated gaze he’d been sending her all week. It didn’t make her uncomfortable. She liked knowing he was still interested. But he was too tempting. All their mixed-up emotions and unconsummated attraction had been channeled into the dance. Now that it was over, she was exhausted, and unbelievably turned on.

In her free hand, she held a prop axe. It was reminiscent of their first meeting, so she’d included it in the dance at the beginning and the end. Now, she tapped it against her thigh as they waited.

Lori came over to hug her. On her other side, Jackson gave Stone a friendly slug on the shoulder.

“Gina. Girl. That choreography?” Lori shook her head and gave a slow clap. “Brava.”

Natasha appeared behind them and echoed Lori’s sentiments, followed by Alan, Farrah, and Kevin.

A stage manager rushed over to shoo them all away, and Reggie appeared to speak into the camera.

“Before the break, Stone and Gina delivered a scorching Red Riding Hood-themed paso doble for Fairy Tale Night. The judges praised their intensity and content, but said Stone needs to work on his knees. Let’s see how the comments translate into scores.”

Gina gripped Stone’s fingers tighter under the onslaught of nerves. It was a good dance. The judges had to see how much he’d improved. Stone slipped his hand out of hers and hugged her against him instead. After a beat, the score flashed on the screen.

“Ninety-four percent.” Reggie put the mic in front of Gina. “After last week, that has to feel amazing. How proud are you of him right now?”

“I’m so proud of him,” Gina said into the mic. “We’ve worked so hard, week after week, to turn out performances we think our fans will enjoy. Stone is doing a fantastic job, especially when you consider he’s not a dancer. I couldn’t be prouder.”

“And how about you, Stone?” Reggie raised the mic so Stone wouldn’t have to lean down as much. “What was it like practicing this week—after last week’s stumble—and then receiving this score?”

“When we started, I didn’t think I’d ever score that high, so it feels pretty great. And we’re grateful to all our fans who keep voting for Team Stone Cold to stay on the show. We’ll do our best to keep delivering great dances.”

Reggie turned to the camera to recite all the voting info. Stone and Gina stepped to the side, awaiting their turn in the makeup chair.

“You were right,” he said. “I apologize for doubting your storytelling concepts. What’s our theme for next week?”

Gina blinked. “Oh, you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

She sucked in a breath as a hollow chasm opened in her chest, leaving her feeling empty at the thought of the week to come. A week away from Stone. “It’s Shake It Up Week.”

He shrugged. “Is that a dance style, like the twist?”

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “It means we switch partners. The audience votes to decide the new pairings. We’ll find out tomorrow morning when we show up for rehearsal.”

He went still, his eyes like cold shards of ice, his voice a low rumble. “What are you saying?”

“Stone, we’re not dancing together next week.”