Taming the VIP Playboy / Promoted To Wife?. Katherine Garbera

at his brother’s familiarity with Jen.

      “Not well. But I interviewed her for the job and she’s very confident of herself. She doesn’t like to be questioned.”

      “Who does?” Nate asked.

      “Not me. I have a meeting downtown with the community leaders tomorrow. They want to have their say about our tenth anniversary party.”

      “How many times are we going to have to prove ourselves before they accept that we are a part of this community now and not going anywhere?” Nate asked.

      “They’ll never be satisfied,” Cam said as he joined his brothers on the patio. “What are you two doing up here? I need you downstairs to talk to the band when they arrive.”

      “I’m on it,” Nate said. “I’ve got the society reporter from the Herald coming. And I’m positive we are going to see Jennifer Lopez tonight. She’s in town and her people said she’d drop by. I’ve got calls in to the internet celeb-site stringers so we should get some good coverage.”

      “Great. I like the sound of that,” Cam said. “I know you do, that’s why I spend all night partying.”

      “Ha. You do it because you like it,” Justin said. “Indeed, I do. I guess the Stern genes run true in my case. I’m not meant to settle down.” “Like Papa?” Justin asked.

      “Yes. I think that’s why he and Mom were so miserable,” Nate said.

      “That and the fact that she was so … cold,” Cam added.

      Nate turned away from his brothers. Their mother had never wanted children and had done her best to spend as little time with them as she could. It had affected them all in different ways. For Nate, it was that he didn’t trust women to really know their own emotions. He always knew that women were going to leave and they always did.

      “I guess we all know what to do tonight,” Cam said. “How are your talks with the community leaders going?”

      “Slow. I invited a few of them to join us for tonight’s show so they can see how much a part of Calle Ocho we are.”

      “Good. Keep me posted,” Cam said.

      “I will.”

      Nate and his brothers went back downstairs. Standing in the nearly empty club, Nate glanced around at the decor. It was hard to tell from looking at the place that this had once been a cigar factory.

      As a boy, he’d never thought about the future. Once he became a professional baseball player, he’d always just assumed that he’d continue playing until he was in his thirties and then transition to a sportscaster career. But when he’d been injured so young … his dreams had changed and morphed into this.

      He wasn’t bitter about it. To be honest, he figured he’d ended up exactly where he needed to be and he was very happy about that.

      “Nate?”

      He turned to see T. J. Martinez standing in the foyer under the Chihuly glass ceiling. “T.J., my man. How was your flight down here?”

      “Good. Very good. I’m ready for some action tonight. Ready to mix it up with you.”

      “Me, too,” he said, shaking hands and giving the other man a one-armed hug. “I heard you signed up for dance lessons.”

      “Mariah insisted that I take them. She said the teacher is the best and that I’d be an idiot to miss out on the classes. Of course, Paul said the teacher was hot.”

      “You can see for yourself tonight. The first class starts in about thirty minutes. Do you want to have a beer?”

      “Yes. I’ll catch you up on the team news. There’s a rumor that O’Neill is going to be traded.”

      Nate led his friend to the bar and they chatted about baseball and the players they both knew. It was still early and the club wasn’t open to guests yet. But Nate wanted some private time with T.J.

      Nate tried to concentrate on the conversation, but his mind kept drifting back to Jen. He didn’t attribute much to it, though. Sure she was sexy and spunky—two things he’d always been attracted to. And talking about baseball and his glory days always made him want to go on the prowl.

      “Let’s go. Don’t want you to be late to your class.”

      “Are you coming with me?”

      “Yeah, why not? I haven’t been to a salsa class yet and as you mentioned, the teacher is … well-qualified.”

      T.J. tipped his head back and laughed. Then they finished their beers and headed upstairs. There was no reason for Nate to be in this class except that he wanted to see Jen again. And that was all it took, he thought. That was a perk to being his own boss—he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

      He walked in the door of the rehearsal room and Jen glanced up from a turn she was doing. Her hips were swaying and the pulsing sensual beat of the salsa music echoed in the background. He felt the rhythm of it down deep in his soul, and his shoulder started to throb the way it did when something big was about to happen. That old injury was like a dowsing rod for spotting trouble.

      Two

      The music swelled around her and for once a man distracted her. Well, that wasn’t true—she’d been distracted by men before but not like this. Nate Stern was making her conscious of each sway of her hips. She felt the material of her long skirt against her legs and when the side slit parted to reveal her thigh, she felt his gaze on her. His gaze.

      Not another single person in the room was registering for her. Just him.

      Why?

      Why Nate Stern? This had disaster written all over it. She couldn’t be attracted to her boss. The last time she had been attracted to someone with authority over her it had ended badly.

      Her sister Marcia would roll her eyes and say that Jen never learned. She had to learn, she thought. She couldn’t start over again.

      To add to her troubles, Nate’s friend T.J. might be a rocking third-base player but he couldn’t find the rhythm of the songs she’d played to save his life. It shouldn’t be that hard. The strong Latin beat was easy to hear.

      Alison was working with some students at the back of the classroom as Lou Bega’s “Mambo No. 5” came on. She used her remote to pause the music. This was the song that the class danced to every evening to open the club. Then Alison and Jen would go into the back and come out twenty minutes later to do a flamenco routine.

      “Okay. Is everyone ready to show us what you’ve learned?” Jen asked. “When you signed up for this lesson you probably didn’t realize it but you are going to be the stars of the opening number tonight.”

      There were a few good-hearted groans from the men in the room and a smattering of applause.

      “The important thing to remember about the music is that it is sensual. It reflects the rhythm of the night. You should feel it pulsing through you. And don’t worry about looking silly, you all look wonderful when you are dancing together.”

      “I don’t think I can feel anything except when someone is going to try to steal third,” T.J. said.

      “I have to agree, Mr. Martinez.”

      “Call me T.J.,” he said with a charming grin that revealed his perfect white teeth.

      “I will. Since you are our celebrity tonight we would like to invite you to lead the conga line into the room and then, of course, have the first dance.”

      It was their standard procedure to ensure that the classes got the utmost attention. According to Nate Stern, it was a nice way to drive business to the lessons. Everyone wanted to be in a class with a celebrity.

      “I don’t think I’m the right guy for that.”

      Jen