Stone showed up to the wardrobe department the next day for his promo outfit with images of sequins and fringe flashing through his mind, so it was a relief to be handed black slacks—stretchier than they looked—and a black button-down shirt. Of course, they instructed him to leave the top buttons undone to his sternum. The costume crew hovered around him, checking fit and drape, and someone hustled him into a black vest, darker than his shirt. As he turned in the mirror, hidden sparkles flared to life all over his outfit. He rolled his eyes. Tiny black rhinestones trailed down the outer seam of his trousers and tastefully lined the lapels of his vest, if such a thing could be tasteful.

One of the PAs led him to the photoshoot backdrop. “Gina should be out soon,” the woman said, and Stone sat in a folding chair to wait. Even though he’d already been through hair and makeup, a woman with brushes tucked into a dark half-apron applied another layer of powder to his face.

A few minutes later, Gina skipped over to him, wearing a spangly silver bathing suit and nothing else. Well, that wasn’t true. On her feet were strappy bronze dance heels.

Holy shit.

He rose to his feet, taking her in. The silver outfit covered her important bits, but her arms, legs, and back were bare, as were the sides of her trim, deeply tanned torso, giving a good view of the indents at her waist. The silver fabric glittered, and tiny dangling sparkles shivered and caught the light as she moved. Longer sparkles dripped from the hem of the costume, doing a poor job of covering the tops of her thighs.

“Ready to pose?” She tugged him over to the white backdrop set up nearby.

Ready? Boy, was he ever.

Shit, he really had to quit this line of thinking. Was he interested? Of course he was. Was he going to act on that interest? Nope. All of this was fake—they were covered in sparkles to present an image of beauty and excitement, while surrounded by scaffolding, camera equipment, and people dashing around in jeans and t-shirts. It was everything he hated about Living Wild, but worse, because he was stuck in LA. Yes, Gina was sexy, sweet, and funny, but they were from different worlds. He didn’t fit in hers, and her trip to Nielson HQ made it abundantly clear she’d never want to fit in his. And if she knew the bear had been a PA crashing around in the underbrush just to get a reaction out of her, she’d never forgive him.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Gina discussed potential poses with Jordy. When she turned to Stone, her tone was all business, just as it was during rehearsal. “We’re going to film our intro first, since they have an opening at the other set.” She dropped her voice. “Sounds like one of the celebs threw a fit about her costume. Anyway, this footage will air during commercials and before we go on to dance in every episode, so it’s important to film something good.”

“Like what?” He followed her as she strode down a hallway at a fast clip.

“It has to look fun, like you want to be here.” She shot him a sidelong glance. “Voters respond to enthusiasm. If they get the impression you’re not taking this seriously, or you think you’re too good to be here, they’ll send your ass home.”

“Wait a second.” He stopped walking and took her by the elbow. For once, they weren’t mic’d, and there were no producers or cameras hovering around them.

“Look,” he started, not knowing exactly what he was going to say. “Do I feel silly about all this? Yeah.” He gestured at his hair—styled into smooth waves—and his sparkly vest. “But I have a good reason to be here, and I can tell this is important to you, so I won’t fuck it up.”

Her lips flattened into a line and she crossed her arms. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

He shrugged. “For now? Yeah, it is.”

She sucked her teeth and started walking again. “I guess it’ll have to do. Come on.”

Blowing out a breath, he rushed after her. He could have handled that a lot better. He’d meant to convey that he was willing to try his best, but it had come out all wrong. Instead, he would just have to show her.

“You know, I wasn’t completely honest before,” he said as they approached the film set. Cameras, lights, and people surrounded a mini version of a dance floor and stage. Another costumed couple stood in the middle of it, talking.

Gina cut her eyes to him. “No?”

“I do have some dance experience.”

“Oh yeah?” Interest sparked in her eyes, and she slowed down. “What kind?”

“Breakdancing.”

“No!” Her mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding? Show me.”

“What, here?” Stone raised a hand to run it through his hair, then dropped it before he could mess up the careful style.

“Yeah. I wanna see your moves.” A playful note had returned to her voice, and he was glad for it.

He rested his hands on his hips and surveyed the space around them, assessing whether it would be enough room for him to move around. It would suck if he knocked out a few of the cameras, or took out the lights rigged up to hit the set.

Gina flashed him a teasing grin. “Do you need me to beat box or something?”

He raised his eyebrows, more relaxed now that she was back to her old self. “Can you?”

“Not really. My singing lessons don’t cover that particular method.” She moved out of his way. “Come on, I want to see what you’ve got.”

“It’s been a while. I used to do this in high school, and I was a lot skinnier then.”

Her nose scrunched in confusion. “I thought you were living in the outback or whatever.”

Crap. “High school age, I mean.”

“Excuses, excuses.” She nodded at the open space before them and clapped out a beat. “Do it.”

A fire ignited in him at her words. This wasn’t the time to examine the impulse, but he wanted to impress her. Starting with some basic toprocking, he crossed his arms and stepped side to side before dropping down into a six-step. Whoever had made his outfit was a damn genius, because it had the perfect amount of give to account for his moves.

Others were gathering to watch, so Stone stuck a handstand freeze—and didn’t fall on his face, hallelujah—and followed it up with a suicide spin into a standing position.

A small crowd had formed around him. They broke into applause and cheers when he finished, but Gina drew all his attention. She bounced on her toes, clapping her hands and laughing full out. The pure joy on her face struck him like a blow. He fought to catch his breath when she rushed forward and threw her arms around his waist in a hug.

“That was amazing, Stone.”

Damn, she felt good, her sequins-clad body pressed against him. Since she was close, and since he was still breathing hard, he stroked a hand down her arm in reply.

She tensed and abruptly pulled away.

Ooo-kay. No clue what that was about. Her hot and cold reactions were hard to keep track of, but it was better that they keep it professional.

Gina stepped aside, and others moved in to praise him, including—oh shit, that was Rick Carruthers.

Stone blinked, star struck, as Rick Carruthers patted him on the shoulder.

“Sweet moves,” the other man said. “I couldn’t do that even when I was your age.” Rick’s full head of hair had gone gray, but he still had the same charming smile and blue eyes that graced the CD covers Stone and his siblings had listened to when they were younger.

“Um, thanks,” Stone managed to mutter.

“I’m Rick.” He stuck out his hand.

“Stone Nielson.” Sweat broke out on Stone’s brow. He was shaking hands with Rick Carruthers. His brothers were going to flip. “I, uh, I’m kind of a fan.”

“Oh yeah?” Rick grinned. “Glad to hear. Although I can tell you’re going to be some stiff competition for me. What’s your first dance?”

“Fox . . . something.”

Rick chuckled. “Cool, cool. We’re doing the jive. It’ll be interesting to see how these old knees hold up.” He clapped a hand on Stone’s shoulder again. “See you on the dance floor, Stone.”

As Rick moved away and the crowd dispersed, someone else approached him. Stone knew it was Gina even before he glanced down at her.

“Welcome to The Dance Off,” she said in a low voice. “It’s pretty surreal, isn’t it?”

Stone shook his head in awe, watching Rick join his partner before leaving the set. Off to the side stood a short woman, her brown hair cut into a blunt bob, her lined face as familiar to him as his own mother’s. “Jeez. Is that Twyla Rhodes?”

Gina leaned against him as she checked out the middle-aged actress, teasing his senses with her warmth and her scent. “Yes, that’s her.”

“My siblings and I watched the Elf Chronicles movies all the time when we were kids.”

Gina pulled him down to whisper in his ear. “She’s the one who was being a diva about her costume. Apparently, she thought it was too modest and wanted to show more skin.”

His body tightened at Gina’s nearness. “Do you ever get used to it?”

“To what?”

“Brushing elbows with celebrities.”

A smirk played on her lips as she gazed up at him. “Need I remind you that you’re a celebrity, too?”

His face heated. “I don’t feel like one.” He wasn’t famous for being talented, like Rick, or even Gina. Looking at Twyla, who was iconic for her portrayal of an elf queen over thirty years ago, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he was doing here. He was a regular guy. He hunted and built stuff with his hands, and someone had come along and wanted to film him doing those things. For that, he was here, with the opportunity to earn a ton of money and attention.

The money. He had to remember why he was mixed up in all this. Money for his mother and his family, who waited for him back in Alaska. Nothing else. Not fame, not mingling, and definitely not a fling with his partner.

“People are people.” Gina shrugged, pulling him from his thoughts. “You’ll see that soon enough. Behind the scenes, it’s hard to keep up the celebrity façade.” She touched his arm lightly. “Let’s go. It’s our turn to film.”

As they took their places on the set, Donna entered the space and whispered something to the director.

Stone had once come face to face with a cougar while backpacking in Canada. Its green-gold eyes had fixed on him with an intensity that sent chills down his spine and screamed predator. Its whiskers shivered as it assessed him, and he never forgot the slinking feline curves of its spine and tail, and the speed at which it retreated when he shouted and fired a shot toward it, scaring it off. Donna reminded him of that mountain lion. Despite her wide smile, she had a hard look in her eyes. The times she’d interviewed him during rehearsal, the sharpness of her demeanor and questions made him anxious to get away.

He glanced down at Gina in time to see her lips tighten at the corners. So, Donna rubbed her the wrong way, too.

With a soft sigh, Gina gave his arm a squeeze. “Let’s get this over with and get back to dancing, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

For the next two hours, Stone put his hands all over Gina’s body. He stood in the middle of the sets with Gina while Donna and the directors of both the dance intro and the promo stills instructed him to lift her, hold her, and grab her.

Finally, he understood her comment about this show making them intimately acquainted with each other’s bodies. Their foxtrot was tame in comparison.

It wasn’t that he had a problem with having Gina drape herself all over him. On the contrary, he liked it far too much. Having his hands full of her hot, tight body while she curled her strong limbs around him? Not the worst way to spend an afternoon. If they hadn’t been surrounded by production people, he might have enjoyed himself.

Except Donna’s hungry eyes kept him on edge, and it seemed like she had the same effect on Gina.

Gina was the consummate professional, of course, completely unfazed by anything Donna asked her to do. Sit on Stone’s shoulder? Sure. Wrap her legs around his waist? No problem. Rub against him while whipping her hair? On it.

But there was a tension in Gina’s body that hadn’t been there during their rehearsal, and a tightness to her smile. He also got the feeling Donna was pushing Gina to do sexier moves on purpose. Still, Gina handled herself with grace.

He, on the other hand, sweated through it, and needed his makeup touched up multiple times.

At the end of it all, Gina chugged a bottle of water and flashed him a wry smile. “You holding up okay?”

“I guess so.” He could barely look her in the eye, feeling like they’d just fucked in front of an audience. How the hell was he supposed to get through a dance in front of a ballroom full of people, on national TV? “Is it always like that?”

Gina was quiet for a long moment. “No,” she said in a low voice. “Not quite.”

Before he could ask why she thought Donna had been pushing them so hard—he’d lost track of how many times she’d shouted “More sexy!” at them—Gina punched his shoulder and said, “How much you wanna bet they’re going to go with the footage of you breakdancing?”

“No way.” He chomped on a protein bar. “Really? After making us do all that?”

She shrugged, like what they’d done had been no big deal. “They try to get as many options as they can. But unless Jackson García can also breakdance, my guess is that’s the footage they’ll use for our intro every episode.”

“Who’s Jackson García?”

“One of the other celebrities this season. TV actor. Also young and fit.” She gave Stone a once over. “Younger than you, but not as fit, I have to say.”

His cheeks warmed. “I’m not sure if that was a compliment or not.”

“Something in that realm.” She grinned. “Come on, let’s change and get back to working on your footwork. It’s atrocious.”

“That definitely wasn’t a compliment.”

“Nope. But it’s true.”

As they left the studio, Rick’s words came back to him. This was a competition. And Gina was the only one fully invested in his success. Despite his conflicted emotions toward her, he and Gina were a unit. They were in this together—no going back. For at least the next month, they were partners, and nothing was going to change that.