She waited until each girl said, “Yes, Madame,” to her directly, then she nodded. “Very well. Get your things, and I will see you in two weeks. As usual, I will be here for the next thirty minutes if there’s anything you need to discuss with me or any other movements you wish me to repeat. To the rest of you, good night.”

As several of the girls lingered, obviously wanting to ask her further questions, he touched her arm. “Janet, I’ll just hang out in the corner. No rush at all.”

She nodded, but one of the girls fixed him with a reproving look. “Everyone calls her Madame while in class. We all agreed.”

He nodded solemnly. “My apologies. I obviously need more thorough instruction. I’ll just be over here in the corner if you need me, Madame.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ackerman.” The look she flashed him said she’d be more than happy to give him that instruction, and that she might make him pay dearly for teasing her. He hid his grin as he returned to his chair.

As he took a seat, the one girl who hadn’t blushed and fluttered when he did the lift with her sat down in the chair next to him. Since the chairs were all pushed together, her hip was brushing his. She met his gaze with a bold stare and inviting smile. Tasha was obviously one of Janet’s top students, the first to step forward for the lift and when Janet required proof of their practice earlier in the class. She also had the feline smile and brazen confidence of a barfly. Unfortunately, she had the dangerous looks to go with it. She had jewel-blue eyes and long black hair, which she’d now unbraided and was stroking her fingers through, letting it pour in a silken curtain over her shoulders. Since she was all of fourteen years old, any intelligent man would steer clear, recognizing pure trouble when he saw it.

Tasha’s parent apparently had not yet arrived for her. Since his chair was at the end, and there was fortunately another foot of wall space, he scooted his chair out, removing the physical contact between them. Her gaze faltered somewhat, and he glimpsed the uncertain child beneath the wannabe siren. Then the feline smile returned. “I enjoyed our lift together,” she said. “You’re very strong.”

He shrugged. “You don’t weigh that much.”

Those lips curved farther. She wore too much lipstick. He wondered if he was getting too old, since he found himself wanting to get a napkin and wipe it off, tell her to stop trying to be something she wasn’t. The fact she was a kid, on that awkward cusp of learning to be a young woman, gave him patience. Though her next words eroded that considerably.

“You can’t say that about Debbie. I’m not sure why Madame lets her stay in this class. It’s for serious dancers, and she’s obviously not serious if she’s carrying around that flab.”

The little bitch was fourteen, he reminded himself, and fixed her with a considering look. “You know, Tasha, when I was training in the military, seventy percent of my class didn’t make it to graduation. Most of them quit during the first four weeks. And a bunch of those were guys who looked the part, who were absolutely sure in the beginning they had everything it took to make it. Then, when they were faced with the reality of it, they found they didn’t have the commitment for the long haul.”

Her brow creased. “So? A lot of guys are all talk, no action.” Her gaze swept him. “Are you one of those? Because you look like you could do a lot.”

Jesus Christ. He didn’t want to know how she’d learned to be this brash, but he decided if Matt needed a full security detail on Angelica when she hit puberty, he’d take the job. SEALs were trained to do the impossible, after all.

“The ones who made it were the kind of guys who knew what it was to be knocked down. They knew winning is about a refusal to fail. Until you’ve been pushed down over and over, and you still get up and dance and give it one hundred percent, don’t talk to me about being serious. I’ll bet Debbie is here every week, even knowing a lot of you don’t think she should be. She practices the steps and works hard for Madame. Which means she’s stronger under fire than someone whose natural talent has kept them untested. So if I was putting money on it, I’ll bet she’s here for graduation, whereas the first time someone sets you back on your heels, you’ll run to Daddy or Mommy to have them fix it for you.”

Wow, he hadn’t expected to go there. Tasha paled. It was actually an improvement over the little-girl-pretending-to-be-a-seasoned-slut routine, but Max cursed himself as she got up and fled. Well, if she didn’t come back next week, he’d proved his point.

“Ah fuck, Ackerman. Don’t be such an asshole.” He would have left it alone if it was fully deserved, but he knew his own shit had driven his mouth, so after a few minutes, he got up and followed her. Several other girls were in the process of heading out, but once they cleared, it left the waiting room deserted, except for Tasha. She stood at the window, staring out at the parking lot, holding her tote bag on her shoulder. It had one of those boy bands printed on it, and a Hello Kitty key chain hung from the strap. He was an idiot.

When he tugged on the strap, she pressed her lips together, crossed her arms over her chest. “Leave me alone.”

“I have a sister,” he said quietly. “And she was like Debbie. She tried really hard to do everything well. Some things she did great, and others she didn’t. You’re the best dancer in the class, Tasha. Debbie may not be a prima ballerina, but I expect she’ll succeed at something else in life, because she doesn’t quit just because it gets hard. That’s the kind of person a smart girl would want as a friend. You seem pretty smart to me.”

Her lips twisted. “You just treated me like I was stupid.”

“Well, you can be smart and still act stupid occasionally. We all do it. It’s part of growing up.”

She slanted him a glance. “You’re already grown up.”

“We never stop growing up, Tasha. If we’re smart.”

“Smart enough to know we’re dumb.”

He grinned. “Yeah. See?”

She shifted to a hip, tossed back her hair. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Working on it.” Quickly realizing his error when her gaze lit up with calculation, he nodded toward the classroom. “Madame.”

“Oh.” Her lips did a pretty pout of disappointment, but then she shrugged. “She’s a really good teacher. Strict, but fair.”

“I’ve noticed that about her.”

“She can be scary, but don’t let that put you off.”

“I’ll do my best.”

A pair of headlights turned into the parking lot, and she adjusted the bag more securely. “That’s my mom. Will you be back next lesson?”

“I’m not sure. It will depend if Janet…Madame, needs me to help out with more lifts.”

“Well, I hope you’ll be back. You’re really hot, even if you’re old.” She gave him a cheeky grin and then darted out the door, hair rippling in the draft.

Some days more than others, he thought. Watching her cross the parking lot, things hurt in his chest. He wanted to grab hold of her, tell her not to treat herself so cheaply, not to let the fact that Daddy wasn’t paying her enough attention drive her into looking for a surrogate. He’d also tell her not to mistake sex and acting like an adult for the love and acceptance she truly needed.

Hell. He really wasn’t sure how Matt was going to do it. He’d be a wreck.

Turning, he discovered he wasn’t alone. The rest of the class had left, because Janet had turned off the lights behind her, only the emergency lights casting a dim light over the wood floor of the main room. She leaned in the doorway, twirling her stick idly, her other arm crossed over her breasts, fingers clasping her biceps.

“I didn’t realize I was in the running to be your girlfriend,” she noted. “I wasn’t informed.”

“I panicked,” he admitted baldly, and won a chuckle. “I was afraid she was going to leap on me like cake, then and there.”

Her expression became more serious. “You had a sister? You were talking about her in the past tense.”

“No. I still have her. She’s just…she’s different now.” He debated, not sure whether to open that door, then decided it didn’t hurt to open it a crack. It was already hurting, after all. “Something happened to her a few years ago, and she has brain damage. She’s in a private facility outside New Orleans. I visit her twice a week.”

Janet’s expression reflected simple compassion. “I’m sorry. Is she why you left the SEALs?”

That empty place in his gut, a reminder of what was no longer a part of his life, gripped him. “Yeah. She needed me. I’m her only family. The only family who can take care of her, be here for her.”

“I’d like to meet her sometime. If that would be okay.”

It surprised him, such that he didn’t say anything right away. She cocked her head. “That is, if you weren’t just using me as your beard to put Tasha off. I assume you are working on making me your girlfriend.”

“I think that depends a lot on whether you’re considering making me…” He hitched over “your boyfriend” because it sounded a little juvenile, but beyond that, it didn’t quite fit. She filled in the missing word though.

“Mine.” She pushed away from the doorframe, turned away. “I guess we’ll see about that. Lock the door, would you? And turn off the foyer light. We’ll take the back exit out.”

When she disappeared so abruptly back into the classroom, his brow creased. He wasn’t sure if he’d done something wrong, but as he complied with her direction and then followed her, he saw she was simply tired. She was leaning on the stick while pushing a stack of yoga mats closer to the wall. As she moved away from them, he noted she was walking stiffly.

“‘We’ll see about that’,” he repeated her words. “Should I treat it as an audition then?”