A monsoon of emotions hit Jogi the second he and Sandy were announced as the winners. The triumph of having beaten Ronny at his own game was heady, but he couldn’t help but cringe just a little at the odd way it’d happened. Someday, he was going to have to win a contest without the benefit of a nudge from someone on the outside.

But it was all worth it to see the tears of joy that spilled across Sandy’s flushed cheeks.

“We did it,” he said, pulling her into a sheltering embrace. “We did it.”

She nodded against his shoulder and hugged him for all she was worth.

“I’m sure you’d all love to know what the prizes Jogi and Sandy have won are,” Howie went on, speaking loudly into the microphone to drown out Ronny’s continued protests.

“This is bullshit!” he yelled, stomping out of the gym. “Bullshit.”

Natalie stayed where she was, looking mortified but determined to stick it out in support of Jogi and Sandy. Jogi nodded to her over Sandy’s shoulder as they embraced.

“In addition to this fabulous trophy,” Howie went on. Jogi twisted, loosening his hold on Sandy, to see Buffy and Carl bringing an enormous, gaudy trophy their way. “Jogi and Sandy will each receive a purse of two thousand dollars and a gift certificate for a victory dinner at The Cattleman Hotel.”

The crowd applauded. Jogi smiled and waved as he and Sandy took the trophy from Buffy and Carl.

“You two deserved this,” Carl told them in a surprisingly candid voice above the din.

“We’re just glad we could nudge things in the right direction,” Buffy added, her grin downright impish.

“Thank you.” Sandy wiped the tears from her eyes and hugged Buffy. “You don’t know how much this means to me. Really, you don’t.” She straightened and sent Jogi a relieved look.

He knew exactly what it meant. The trophy was superfluous. The money didn’t really matter. He was even willing to say that winning his own gallery showing at Abigail Sedgewick’s gallery was secondary to the real prize. They’d won Guy’s vote on the bank board. The bank was safe.

“Come on, you two,” Howie said, marching toward them. He’d left his microphone and had his arms outstretched to congratulate them. The bleachers were beginning to clear out as people left, now that the excitement was over. “You need to take your victory lap, go and meet your fans.”

“I knew the two of you would win.” Howie was joined by Quintus, who wove through the people moving onto the dancefloor as they waited to exit. “I just knew you’d make the perfect couple. And that tango? Wow!”

Jogi would have been equally happy to punch Quintus in the arm as he was to give him a short, manly hug for all the trouble the kid had put them through. He shoved the ridiculous trophy into Quintus’s arms as he did. “This should be yours.”

Quintus pushed the trophy back at him. “No way, man. It’s all yours. So is the real prize.” He glanced past Jogi to Sandy, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jogi grinned and started to step back to Sandy’s side. But his grin vanished as soon as he saw her expression crumple into concern. “What?”

Sandy was staring in the direction of the judges’ table. When Jogi looked that way too, he saw why. Guy was still arguing with Tricia, but it looked like their argument had reached its end. Guy turned and stormed off, grabbing his wife from her seat nearby as he did.

“It kinda feels like he’s getting away,” Sandy said.

Jogi tightened his grip on the trophy. “Then we have to go after him.”

She nodded and grabbed his other hand. The determination was back in her eyes, and it was a total turn-on.

Guy started for the door through which everyone else was leaving, but changed his mind when he reached the logjam of people waiting to get out. He changed direction and headed for the door at the opposite end of the room, the one leading to the locker rooms. Jogi switched direction with him, and he and Sandy caught up to Guy and Abigail as they crossed into the hallway.

“We won,” Jogi said, bringing Guy to a halt.

Guy flinched and turned back to them, face set in a scowl. “On a technicality.”

“It’s in the rules,” Sandy told him. Jogi honestly had no idea if it was or not, but Sandy was sticking to her guns. “Which means we won fair and square.”

“That’s debatable,” Guy growled.

Sandy shrugged, letting go of Jogi’s hand and taking a few more steps toward Guy. She cut an imposing figure in her tango costume, her eyes highlighted by the stage make-up. “Speaking of fair and square, you want to justify giving us a score that was three points lower than the next lowest judge?”

Guy’s face flushed, and he shifted in his spot. “The other judges didn’t see the abundance of flaws in your performance,” he snapped, eyes darting this way and that but not meeting either Jogi’s or Sandy’s. “No professional ballroom judge would have given you a higher score than I did.”

“This wasn’t a professional competition.” Jogi stepped up to Sandy’s side, gripping the trophy like a weapon. “And while you’re justifying scores like a professional ballroom judge, do you want to tell us what about Ronny and Natalie’s performance was worthy of a ten?”

“Well…uh…they….” Guy twitched, his face going even redder. “That lift they did in the Lindy.”

“Oh, come off it, Guy,” Abigail sighed. She grabbed his hand and tried to tug him away. “You know what you did. Just own up to it.”

Jogi’s brow shot up. Abigail was the last person he would have expected to call her husband out on his antics.

Guy seemed to embrace her interruption as an excuse to leave. Without another word, he turned and started marching off.

“I’ll be looking forward to seeing your vote this week,” Sandy called after him.

To Jogi’s surprise, Guy stopped and spun back to them. He huffed a laugh, a mean grin spreading across his face. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’m voting to remove your father as CEO.”

It felt as though lightning had struck Jogi, but he was sure that was nothing to the shock Sandy felt. “What?” she shouted, her eyes popping wide. She took a few steps toward him. “You’re going back on your word?”

“What word?” Guy sneered.

“We made a bet.” Sandy’s voice and jaw were as hard as ice.

Guy laughed. “So what? Nothing in that bet was legally binding.”

“Guy,” Abigail hissed. She tried to tug his hand, but Guy shook her off.

He marched to stand toe-to-toe with Sandy. “You didn’t think I’d let something as important as control of one of the most important financial institutions in Haskell come down to a silly bet on a dance competition, did you?”

“You made that bet in good faith,” Jogi argued.

“No, he didn’t,” Sandy said, her voice dangerously low. She narrowed her eyes. “He had no intention of honoring any part of the bet. He was laughing at us from the start.”

Guy merely grinned at her accusations, all the proof Jogi needed that they were true. The need to do something burned so hot in Jogi that he was surprised the trophy didn’t melt in his hand.

Sandy shifted her weight, her expression hardening even further. She leaned into Guy in an attempt to intimidate him. “If you don’t man up and honor your bet—”

“You’ll what?” Guy stopped her before she could get started. He looked down his nose at her. “Where’s the contract stipulating the terms of the bet? Where is any sort of documentation indicating that it was legal and binding?” Without waiting for an answer, he went on with, “You don’t have a legal leg to stand on. I can vote however I want on Tuesday. Think about that next time you start thinking you’re so clever.”

Sandy started to reply, but Guy wasn’t interested. He turned and marched on, grabbing Abigail’s hand and dragging her along as he did.

Sandy raised a hand as if she might stop him, but in the end, she just stood there, mouth gaping, a look of furious horror in her eyes. “I can’t believe it,” she said, her voice tight with anger. “I can’t believe that rat is just going to ignore everything we worked for, everything we did, to vote the same way he would have voted to begin with.”

“I can believe it,” Jogi grumbled, moving to Sandy’s side.

Sandy shook her head and turned to him. “Everything was for nothing. We did all that, worked so hard, and all for nothing.”

“Not for nothing.” Jogi stopped her before the swell of anger rippling off of her could explode. He set the trophy down, then rested both of his hands on her forearms. “If not for the competition, we would have gone our separate ways and never looked back.”

Her expression softened a little, but not nearly enough.

“If we hadn’t made that bet, we wouldn’t have been forced to face each other,” he went on. “You have to admit that this has been a massive growth experience for both of us.”

She sighed, but still didn’t seem to have words.

“We would have given up after that first night, and we would have missed so, so much.” He tightened his grip on her and stared straight into her eyes, willing her to feel the intensity of everything he felt. “We would have missed out on that day at the lake. I would have missed the opportunity to be there for you when your dad was in the hospital. And—” He took a breath, emotion blooming within him. “—I never would have gotten to hear you say that you love me.”

Sandy’s anger vanished in an instant, and the joy of victory that had nothing to do with dancing returned. “You told me you loved me,” she said, her voice cracking. “You love me.”

“I do,” he said, feeling as if his heart and body was too small to contain the force of everything he felt for her. “I do love you, Sandy. And I’m going to prove it to you.”

She swayed closer to him, probably expecting some sort of passionate embrace. But instead, he broke away from her and started stomping down the hall the way Guy had gone.

“What are you doing?” she called out, jogging to catch up with him.

“I’m doing what needs to be done,” he said.

They reached the door at the end of the hall, and Jogi pushed it open, stepping out into the humid, late-summer night. He followed the path that led around the corner of the building toward the parking lot, Sandy just behind him. It was his luck that they caught up to Guy and Abigail at the edge of the parking lot, before they reached their car.

“Stop,” Jogi shouted after them. “You are going to stop right there and listen to what I have to say.”

Guy did stop, but only to turn and say, “Really? I’m going to stop and listen to the likes of you?”

Jogi ignored the insult and charged on. “I don’t know what you think you stand to gain by acting like Richard Bonneville’s peon, but you’re making a huge mistake. Not only because everyone will see just who yanks your chain, but because you seem to think that integrity means nothing.”

Sandy caught up to him, but she seemed far more interested in what Jogi had to say than in adding her own bit.

Guy shifted his weight, crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes, but before he could go on, Jogi said, “I don’t care if you think you’re acting in your best interest or if you think you’ll get something out of whatever plans Bonneville has for the bank. I don’t even care if you can look yourself in the mirror every morning or sleep well at night. You took a chance, you made a gamble, and in spite of your best efforts to sway things in your direction, you lost. And if you can’t honor that, what are you going to do when a situation comes along that really matters to you?

“Who runs the bank doesn’t affect you in the least,” Jogi pushed on. “Everyone knows that. But it does affect the woman I love and her entire family. And I, at least, will do everything in my power to protect the things that matter to Sandy, because I love her. I risked looking like a complete fool in this dance competition because I care about what happens to her, whether she’s happy or not. Can you say the same thing? Can you say that you value something higher than money or influence or being in Bonneville’s pocket?”

He left the question hanging, but snuck a quick look at Abigail. Abigail wore an anxious, longing look. It was a look that said his words had had an impact on someone, even if it wasn’t Guy.

“I don’t have to stand here and listen to this,” Guy said, sounding gruff, but red in the face.

Jogi shrugged. “And I don’t have to waste any more of my time trying to turn you into a decent human being.”

Without waiting for a reaction, Jogi turned and took Sandy’s hand. She wore a stunned look, but as they started to walk away, that look turned into a proud grin. “You sure told him,” she murmured.

“Yeah, I guess you’re starting to rub off on me.”

Sandy broke into a smile.

“Wait!” The call from behind had both of them stopping and looking back over their shoulders. Guy had moved on to his car, but Abigail had taken a step toward them. She had her hand raised, and when she saw that she had Jogi’s attention, she risked a weak smile and said, “I’m going to clear my schedule to make space for you to have a showing.”

Jogi’s brow shot up. He exchanged a surprised look with Sandy, then turned back to Abigail. “Thank you so much.”

“My husband may be a horse’s ass,” she said, raising her voice so that Guy could hear and glancing sideways to where he was getting into the car, “but I honor my bets. You deserved to win, no matter who tried to stop you.” Her voice had taken on a hard edge. She nodded to Jogi, then marched around the car to open the passenger door and flop inside.

Jogi looked back to Sandy. “That was unexpected.”

They continued back toward the gym and the hall where they’d left the trophy.

“I dunno.” Sandy shrugged, sending one final glance over her shoulder as Guy started the car and turned on the headlights. “Abigail has more of a backbone than people give her credit for.” She focused her smile on Jogi. “She’s smart enough to know brilliance when she sees it, and you, my sexy boy, are brilliant.”

They’d reached the gym door, but before Jogi could reach for it, Sandy grabbed him by the open sides of his shirt and pulled him close for a kiss. Jogi was taken by surprise, but in no time, he was returning her passion. He circled his arms around her and brought her flush against his body. Their mouths melded together, his body instantly ready and aching to get home and continue where their tango had left off.

When at last Sandy broke the kiss, they were both left hot and panting.

“I can’t say I’m thrilled that we’ll lose the bank,” she said, cradling his face in her hands, “but as far as I’m concerned, I’ve got the best prize anyone could ask for right here.”

“Really?” He spread his hands across her waist, sliding one up to brush the underside of her breast. “You don’t want a glitzy trophy or a shiny plaque to hang on the wall?” Part of him wanted to ask if she would have been happier with a flashier guy, one who matched her ambition with his own.

A bigger part of him knew they were beyond that. Especially when she laughed low in her throat and kissed him, slow and deep.

“I’ve got exactly what I want right here,” she purred, angling her hips into his. “And there’s no way I’m going to make the mistake of letting you get away again.”