The Last Santini Virgin. Maureen Child

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      The other man stared at him for a long minute before asking, “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

      Nick groaned tightly at the memory before tucking it into a dark corner of his mind. Hell. He had to be the first Marine in history to have been ordered into a dance class. Well, technically not “ordered.” He’d been “suggested” into it. He would much rather the Major had sentenced him to a few thirty-mile hikes. Or had him transferred to Greenland.

      But, no. That would have been too easy a punishment.

      Instead Nick was stuck practicing to be a second-rate Fred Astaire. And, oh, man, what his friends would say if they knew what he was up to. For weeks after the punch bowl incident, he’d put up with the teasing, the jokes, the near-constant barrage of abuse from his friends. Hell, if they ever found out that he was actually taking ballroom dance lessons, they’d never let him forget it. As for dancing in a contest? He’d probably have to resign from the Corps just to get some peace.

      Nope. What he had to do was survive this stupid class then get back to being a full-time Marine.

      Of course, when the classes were over, he wouldn’t be seeing Gina again. Surprising really, how much that realization bothered him.

      A cold, damp breeze slinked in off the ocean and swept the rest of old memories and troubling thoughts from his mind. He returned his attention just in time to the short woman walking—or rather, running along beside him.

      “Are you listening to me?” she asked, and judging from the exasperation in her tone, it wasn’t for the first time.

      Nick stopped, looked down at her and shook his head. “If you’re still talking about that competition, no.”

      She threw her hands wide and let them fall to her sides again. “Why not?”

      That mouth of hers looked good even in a frown. Oh, no, he wasn’t going there. Leaving his hormones out of the equation, Gina Santini was not going to get to him. “A better question, princess, is why are you so hot to enter a contest with me when all you can do is complain about how badly I dance?”

      The wind tossed her dark-brown curls around her face, and Gina reached up with one hand to push them back from her eyes. “You’re really not totally bad.”

      Heartwarming. “Gee,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his words, “thanks.”

      She pulled in a deep breath, which distracted him momentarily by drawing his gaze to the curve of her breasts, then she sighed dramatically. “It’s a contest,” she said as if that was enough to explain everything. “Don’t you want to win?”

      That gleam in her eyes was back again, and a part of Nick admired her. He liked a good competition, too. He just preferred entering contests that he had some small chance of winning.

      “We’re not good enough,” he said flatly, and started for his car again, hoping she’d drop the subject.

      He should have known better.

      Right behind him, he heard the heels of her shoes tapping against the asphalt as she trotted to keep up with his long-legged stride.

      “We could be,” she said, “good enough, I mean.”

      Nick laughed shortly.

      “All we’d need is extra practice.”

      “Yeah,” he agreed, “for a year or two.”

      “For Pete’s sake, General,” Gina said, and stepped in front of him, bringing him to a quick stop. “Do all Marines give up as easily as you?”

      A quick flash of irritation swelled up inside him.

      “Marines do not give up, princess,” he said, and loomed over her, which wasn’t hard since she was so darn short. “We simply choose our battles.”

      “Uh-huh. Apparently only the ones you’re sure of winning.”

      “Look,” he said, and threw his car a longing glance before looking at Gina again. Obviously, he wasn’t going to get out of here without yet another argument. And to think that only a moment ago he’d been bothered by the thought of never seeing her again. God. What had he done in his life to deserve this irritating, too-damned-attractive woman? Answer: he’d thrown a major’s wife into a punch bowl. “You said yourself all we do is argue. Do you really want to spend more time together?”

      She folded her arms under her breasts and he absolutely refused to look. It wasn’t easy, but he kept his gaze locked with hers. One of her finely arched eyebrows went just a bit higher. “We wouldn’t argue so much if you weren’t so stubborn.”

      “Hah! I’m stubborn?”

      She gave him a look that would have fried a lesser man’s soul. Then, clearly disgusted, she asked, “Why am I even talking to you?”

      “You got me, princess.”

      “Will you stop calling me princess?”

      “As soon as you stop acting like one.”

      Her big brown eyes widened and then narrowed dangerously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      Well, hell. He hadn’t really meant to say that out loud. “Never mind.”

      “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “Explain.”

      “There’s no reason to go into any of this,” he hedged. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He just didn’t want to enter that blasted contest. “It’s late. I’ve got to get back to base.”

      She leaned back against his car and shook her head. For such a tiny woman, she had the look of an immovable object.

      “You started this, Sergeant. Now you finish it.”

      This was his own fault, he told himself. He never should have said what he was thinking. But Gina had a way of irking him like no one else he’d ever known.

      He swept his gaze up and down her compact, curvy form before coming to rest on those beautiful brown eyes of hers. And damned if she didn’t know just how pretty she was, too. Oh, not that she seemed conceited, but there was a confidence about her that came from knowing she presented a hell of a picture. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized how right he was in his assessment of her. Pampered, spoiled, obviously used to getting her own way, she was completely unprepared for someone—anyone saying no to her.

      “So, General,” she said, “do you explain, or do we stand here all night?”

      All around them their fellow students were leaving the tiny parking lot. Overhead, dark clouds sailed across a black sky, obliterating the stars and threatening rain. Even in southern California, January weather could be unpredictable. And just in case it was going to start raining anytime soon, he decided to end this debate once and for all. If she wanted the truth that badly, she could have it.

      “It means that I know you better than you think I do.”

      “Oh, really?”

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