Excerpt of Tango's Edge by Carole Bellacera

"Will you skate with me?" Her heart tripped into overdrive. Somehow, without realizing exactly who touched whom first, she found her hand in his. But when he placed his other hand on her waist and began to guide her away from the boards, she stiffened at the penetrating heat of his touch. No...I don't...I can't... But the words were spoken only in her mind. She tried to relax and follow his movements, but immediately, her foot tangled with his, and she stumbled to the ice. The cold surface burned into her buttocks, and then her palms as she pushed against the ice to get to her feet. Heat rushed to her face as Mikhail grabbed her arm and pulled her up. How humiliating! Making a fool of herself in front of the best ice dancer she'd ever seen. But his ocean blue eyes were warm as he steadied her with his hands on her upper arms. "You know this dance. You have done so hundreds of times with partner," he said gently. "Just relax and let yourself feel music. " The warmth of his hand was once again at her waist. "Ready? " As she relaxed in Mikhail's arms, she realized the routine they were doing was a basic set-pattern dance they'd all done in competition. She knew every step of it, and her mind automatically clicked into the mantra she used during competition. The tighter the curve, the deeper the edge. Yet, she was exquisitely aware it wasn't Adam at her side, holding her in his arms so confidently. Mikhail's scent washed over her, a mysterious combination of sandalwood and Eastern spices. This dance, sexual by nature, had never felt so passionate with Adam. By the second time around the rink, Kerry was dancing with Mikhail as if they'd been doing it forever. Their edges were clean and sharp, their leans elegant. Mohawks, Choctaws, three-turns. Every move they made was fluid, perfect. She found herself praying the music would never end; that she could hold onto this moment forever. She was dancing with a stranger?a foreigner, yet, she felt a sense of security and belonging like she'd never found anywhere before. Slowly, in the middle of the rink, Mikhail drew her to a stop. They stood, facing each other, hands entwined. The angles and planes of his face were shadowed in the dim light, but she felt the intensity of his gaze. An unbearable tension crackled between them, and Kerry knew the heat enveloping her had little to do with the exercise. His eyes, so stark, so earnest, scanned her face, moving over her brows, her cheekbones, and finally, settling on her lips. He leaned toward her, and Kerry lifted her face, offering her mouth. But he didn't take it. Instead, his hands slid up her arms and tightened on her shoulders. He spoke in a husky undertone, "Kerry Niles, I need your help. Please..." He took a deep breath, released it and said the words that would change her life forever. "I must defect from my country, and I need your help to do it."