Hot Doc From Her Past. Tina Beckett

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      “Tessa?”

      She blinked back to the present. “Sorry. I just lost my concentration for a second or two.”

      “A second or two?” Several Portuguese swearwords accompanied the question as the owner of the studio stared down at her. “It’s been more like the entire match.” He touched a finger to her still-stinging cheek. “I don’t want you bruised up before the festival. It defeats the purpose of emphasizing the workout benefits of capoeira. Intende?”

      “Yes, I understand. Let’s try again.”

      Marcos helped her up and then motioned for the next person in the circle to join her. “Begin.”

      The percussion instruments set the rhythm once again as Tessa concentrated on the ebb and flow that accompanied her current partner, the feinting and parrying looking almost choreographed. Two minutes later, she was standing back in the ring of participants as someone else danced in to take her place. When it was once again her turn she slid forward, only to find herself on the wrong side of a foot for the third or fourth time. Mortified, she crashed to the mat, wondering if Marcos was going to take away her purple and green cordão and demote her to a lower level.

      He knelt beside her once again. “I think that is enough for today, Tessita.”

      She grimaced. Marcos only resorted to calling her “little Tessa” when he was upset with her. And he had every right to be. She’d trained with him for years and years. He knew exactly what she was capable of. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

      “I do not, either, but when you come back next week, try to make our capoeira look a little less… brutal.”

      Everyone laughed, including Tessa, and the tension eased as he helped her to her feet. She sighed. “Point taken. I’ll work on it.”

      “Good. The festival will be here before we know it.”

      She grabbed her towel from on top of her bag and blotted the sweat from her face and neck. “Four weeks. I know. Maybe I’ll find a few extra hours this week and come in for a private session.”

      “I think that would be good, Tessita.”

      Ugh. Still upset. Well, Marcos wasn’t the only one. She was upset at herself. Ever since her encounter with Clay in the cafeteria she’d been on edge. Something about the way his ex had looked at her, the acid in her gaze making Tessa feel like a criminal of some sort, even though she’d done nothing wrong.

      Well, it was time to put Clay and his ex—and most especially his cute little daughter—from her mind. Once and for all.

      How she was going to do that, though, remained to be seen.