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REVIEWS for The Dance

Outstanding Read: A "I really enjoyed Jami Davenport’s The Dance. It is a beautiful love story and so much more. There is a lot of plot weaving and twists here that you wouldn’t expect in this kind of story but it all works, especially the love scenes— can you say “smokin’”? If you’re looking for a read which will bring tears to your eyes and joy to your heart then pick up The Dance, you won’t be disappointed." —Lynda, Simply Romance Reviews

5 Cherries: "Right from the get-go, The Dance embraced humor, warmth, very human characters, and a wealth of possibilities. It’s a well told tale about two people who make choices with the best of intentions and get the worst results. However, until they face their demons, and for one of them, it ends up being formidable, they will have an incomplete future.
     You might wonder about my word choice, ‘incomplete future’. Think of a scale—you put two items to weigh and they don’t match. Of course you are going to add something to or subtract from the one that needs to be balanced. Thing is, sometimes the item we believe to be perfect ends up being not enough. That is how I see the relationship between Rico and Mariah. It’s a delicate dance to make a relationship work and Ms. Davenport explores this from a very human perspective. Our hero and heroine each end up giving, but the scales remain unbalanced. They have to come to terms with what each is willing to do, to go that extra mile, if they want that balanced future, a complete future.
     The back drop totally fascinated me. Oh sure, this occurs in a delightful and romantic location but what hooked me were the horses, especially Mariah’s horse, Sueño. The riding discipline that Mariah practices is called dressage. I had no clue what that was; couldn’t wrap my mind around what that would look like. I found a co-worker who knew exactly what it was because she herself practices it with her horse so I was able to pick her brain. How cool was that? Think of the Lipizzaner stallions and you’ll get the picture. Once I figured it out, I had a new appreciation for Mariah’s character and enjoyed the story on a whole other (new) level. Now I am fascinated with Ms. Davenport’s choice of profession for her character. I wonder, what was her inspiration?
     The conflict of the story is meaty and emotional. Ms. Davenport resists, though I have no idea how she did it, the easy way out for her characters. I really wanted Rico to save the day. I wanted the conflict to end as happily as Mariah and Rico eventually become. The author stuck to realism and endeared her characters to me even more. They are not perfect, they are not cardboard and neither are they capable of super human acts. Rico and Mariah are just a man and a woman stumbling through the pile of yuck life has thrown at them, to come out on the other side with bumps and bruises but whole.
     The passion they share is sweet and hot. The happily ever after is well earned and emotional. And through it all, Ms. Davenport keeps it optimistic with humor, love of family and hope. Which is a good thing because there are some tense moments which for me, were jarring and emotional. You can’t come away from reading The Dance untouched. I certainly didn’t and I highly recommend this book to everyone who enjoys a well told romance." —Xeranth, Whipped Cream

5 Flags: "The Dance is a great book! It pulls on your heartstrings and caused me to tear up a time or two. I really felt for Mariah and all the hurts she had to work through. Her growth throughout the story was inspiring. Rico, of course, had my heart from the beginning. And when the two are together it is beyond scorching! Through all of this The Dance is still more than just a love story, there are some ups and downs which keep you guessing and causes plenty of hand wringing as we wait to see if they will get their happily ever after. I definitely recommend this book, it's a great read filled to the brim with real emotions and plenty of heat." —Lynda, Euro-Reviews

4 Stars: "Entertaining...
     Jami Davenport has created an entertaining look at the lives of has-been rock stars. The Dance is about maturing, learning to trust, and learning to love. The characters are well-developed and have depth. Fans of romantica will enjoy The Dance." —B. Lamar, Review Your Book

STORY EXCERPT

Okay, who turned out the lights?

Was she dead? Did they have mud in heaven? Sticky, gooey, cold mud? Certainly heaven’s mud wouldn't smell like rank fertilizer and stale water.

A distant voice penetrated her muddled brain.

Mariah Baker wiggled her toes and fingers to test each one. Lifting her head, she scraped the mud from her face with her gloved hand. Her blurry eyes focused on two large cowboy boots about a foot away. Angels didn't have big feet and wear scuffed cowboy boots.

“Are you okay?” A deep, sexy voice vibrated with concern.

She tried to raise her head higher. A large hand to match those big feet entered her field of vision.

“What happened...?”

“You fell off your horse.”

Oh, yeah, she remembered now. An invisible horse-eating troll lurking in the nearby woods scared her ditz-brained gelding. He’d bucked and sent her flying like a rag doll, ending with an ungraceful face plant. At least it was a soft landing, as last night’s rain had transformed the footing in her riding arena into a mud bog.

“Are you all right?” The man sounded rattled.

“Mmmm.”

“Don’t move. You might have broken something.”

“Nothing’s broken. I just had...the wind knocked out of me.” She choked and spit out a mouthful of mud. The owner of the cowboy boots squatted next to her. Long legs, strong thighs, narrow hips, broad chest. Definitely heaven.

With a groan, Mariah pushed herself to a kneeling position and came face-to-face with Adonis. Well, at least he could have doubled for a Greek god. His appearance tickled her memory, yet she was certain she’d never met him. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and stared.

And stared.

And stared.

Heaven wouldn’t have temptations like him. He’d turn any good girl into a very bad girl.

A day’s growth of beard darkened his handsome face. His unruly brown hair begged for attention from a decent stylist. He wore clothes most garage sales wouldn’t bother to sell. His threadbare jeans had never seen a designer label. Yet his disheveled appearance didn’t come close to concealing his model good looks. Suffice it to say, the man fit every clichéd description of a hero in a romance novel, despite his scruffiness.

Too bad she'd sworn off men as of last night. So what if he was kiss-your-heart-goodbye gorgeous? Unfortunately, her heart wasn’t listening. Instead, it told her brain to get lost and snuggled up next to Mr. Scruffy, at least in its dreams.

He might appear scruffy, but he smelled wonderful in a clean, masculine sorta way. His scent actually permeated the smell of rancid mud that clung to her body. Without thinking, she leaned closer to get a better whiff of his expensive aftershave. A dedicated shopper, Mariah knew expensive when she saw it or smelled it. She’d also bet a winning lotto ticket he wore a Rolex watch and Gucci sunglasses.

Raising her gaze back to his face, she found him staring at her. He removed his sunglasses and shifted his gaze from her lips to her eyes. The man had the most incredible brown eyes, as yummy as a chocolate mocha espresso fringed with long, black eyelashes. Now why did guys always have eyelashes like that when they never appreciated them?

Those mocha eyes sucked her in like dust bunnies sucked into a vacuum cleaner. She felt light-headed. And hot. Really hot. Taking a deep breath, Mariah gathered her composure—and her dust bunnies—about her like a suit of armor.

Relax, girl, relax. This guy radiated sexual energy like the sun radiated heat. She’d just been gobbled up by his magnetic sensuality. He was dangerous, and she didn’t need a guy like that to complicate her life. Get rid of him, the sooner the better, her boring good girl side warned her.

“I’m Ric...” He hesitated. “I’m Rodrigo Perez.” He studied her with interest, as if waiting for a reaction. “I’m staying at the Delgado’s vacation house for a month. That’d make me your neighbor.” He held out his hand to her.

She stared at it, while her mind stalled somewhere between fantasy and reality. He cleared his throat to get her attention. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. He grinned with amusement. His hand still hovered in mid-air. Mechanically, she removed a mud-encrusted glove and offered her hand to him. His long fingers surrounded her smaller hand with a firm but gentle hold. His thumb traced a sensuous circle on her palm. He lifted her fingers to his lips. His warm mouth grazed her trembling knuckles, lingering on each one. All the while, his dark eyes never left hers. Mariah fell for his technique, hook, line, and sinker; stupid, gullible woman that she was.

A five-alarm siren clanged in her head, and she jerked her hand away. The sudden movement dislodged a mud clump from her riding helmet, and it plopped onto her nose. The irritating man raised one dark eyebrow. His mouth twitched in a suppressed smile as he dabbed the mud with his thumb. It was a good thing she was still kneeling or she’d have crumpled to the ground in a heap of female hormonal mush. He dabbed the mud with his thumb. It was a good thing she was still kneeling or she’d have crumpled to the ground in a heap of female hormonal mush.

“And you are?”

“I’m Mariah,” she croaked, feeling like an idiot.

“Well, Mariah, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thanks.”

Rodrigo straightened to his full height, leaving Mariah to stare at his belt buckle, tight jeans, and... Oh, my.

“Can you stand?” He didn’t wait for an answer but bent down to help her. Avoiding his touch, Mariah scrambled to her feet.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Concern gentled his brown eyes.

“I am. Really. I’ve fallen off many times. It’s nothing. Something in the woods scared my horse.”

“Can’t imagine what that would be.” He shrugged and looked away, shifting his weight from one cowboy boot to another.

Sueño, her gray gelding and the guilty party, wandered over and stuck his head between them. Mariah picked up his reins.

“Where did you...? I mean, how did you...?” Her brain couldn’t seem to form words. His amused grin didn’t help.

“I was walking along the road and saw you launched into the air like a human catapult. I ran over to check on you.”

“Thank you for helping me.” She wiped her face with the bottom of her T-shirt. She must look a fright. And she considered him scruffy?

“I’m just glad to see you’re okay.” A slight accent blended with the rich timbre of his voice. A handsome man with an accent made for an even more deadly combination.

Attempting to be inconspicuous, she rubbed her clammy hands on her thighs. Her horse stirred beside her, and she glanced at him. The big busybody hadn’t missed a thing. One furry ear swiveled to catch each tidbit of conversation. His eyes followed their every move with interest. Mariah glared at Sueño. Maybe you’d like some popcorn and a beer while you watch me squirm? Whose side are you on? After all, who feeds you? Help me out here, will you?

Sueño shook his long forelock over his eyes and ignored her.

Knowing she was on her own, she searched for something clever to say. She turned into a blabbering idiot around most men. She doubted the Prince of Grunge would be an exception. “You’re staying at Max and Carmen’s house? It’s...it’s really nice. I’ve been in it. I did some work for them about six months ago. Carmen wanted the rooms redone in a country style, something relaxed. I looked all over Seattle for just the right...” Now, she was blabbering, but what woman on earth would blame her?

“Yeah, it’s a great place. I’m enjoying it. Very private and peaceful,” he agreed smoothly.

Did the man ever sweat or get nervous? Mariah considered it a good thing he had tacky clothes, or he’d be too perfect.

Pulling herself together once again, she put on her polite cocktail-party voice and inquired, “Where are you from, Rodrigo?” His accent intrigued her, and much to her surprise, she imagined him whispering Spanish to her in the middle of the night.

“I spent the first eight years of my life in Puerto Rico. Now I live in LA. I’m here on Orcas Island for a vacation.” He paused to look around him. “Do you have any idea what a view like this would cost in Southern California?”

“I can’t begin to imagine.” Mariah glanced around, but her mind barely registered the spectacular scenery.

The horse arena sat on a bluff overlooking a small cove. In the distance, the San Juan Islands glittered like jewels on the water. A green and white Washington state ferry wound its way through the myriad of passages bound for the Orcas ferry landing. To the north, the boats in Deer Harbor floated lazily in the morning sun.

Even in her most tumultuous times, this place had brought her peace. Unfortunately, the taxes and expenses on the place were driving her out. That stack of bills on her desk increased exponentially in comparison to her meager income.

Rodrigo coughed and brought her attention back to him. He wrung his hands together. “I have to confess. I’ve been watching you ride for a few days.”

“You’ve been watching me ride?” Oh, great, her neighbor was a stalker. Even as she considered it, she didn’t believe it. He appeared to be a professional heartbreaker, not a stalker. She’d almost married a man like him once so she recognized the type. Besides, tourists from the nearby resort stopped on the road occasionally and watched her ride.

“Uh, yeah.” Rodrigo pushed his hair off his forehead and looked down at his feet. He seemed worried about how she’d interpret his confession. “I was walking by earlier this week, and I saw you through the trees. I’ve never seen anyone ride a horse like that. It’s pretty amazing.”

Mariah glanced up at him. A shock wave zipped through her system. She stepped away and added more space between them.

“Thank you. I’m...I’m surprised you found my riding interesting. Most people would rather watch concrete dry.”

He raised one eyebrow. “What do you call this type of riding you do?”

“Dressage, a very old equestrian sport. Actually, it’s more of an art form than a sport when it’s done correctly.”

“How do you steer him? With your thoughts?”

“No, not really. I use subtle signals from my leg and shift my weight in the saddle, but there are times when it seems as if he’s reading my mind. When we’re in sync like that, it’s the most incredible feeling. It’s like we leave this planet, as if we’re in a different plane of existence. It’s hard to explain. Time slows, has no meaning. It’s almost...holy. Athletes have a term for it. They call it being in the zone. Sueño and I seem to find that zone together more than any horse I’ve ridden.” Mariah stopped. She'd told him way too much. To his credit, his eyes didn’t glaze over from sheer boredom.

“How long does it take to learn to ride like that?”

“It takes years. This horse is my baby. I raised and trained him myself.” Mariah patted her gelding’s coat.

“You’ve done a great job, but it’s more than training, even I can see that.”

She looked away for a moment then met his eyes, feeling a little jolt right down to her toes. “Yes. Yes, it is,” she admitted in a soft whisper. She didn’t speak of her connection with this horse to just anyone. Non-riders didn’t understand. In fact, most riders didn’t understand it either.

Rodrigo reached up to pet the horse. Sueño lowered his head so the man could scratch a preferred spot behind his ears.

“He likes you,” she noticed with surprise. “He’s very picky about his people. I can’t believe he’s letting you pet him. He's very perceptive about people. I should listen to him more....”

“Si, you should. I love animals.” Rodrigo interrupted, stroking Sueño’s neck. Her horse gave him a hard push with his nose.

“Feel free to smack him when he does that. It’s rude.”

“Why does he do it?”

“He wants a carrot.”

“A carrot? Sorry, big guy, I don’t happen to have one on me.” Rodrigo held his hands out, palms up. Sueño sniffed at each hand.

“He doesn’t deserve a carrot when he behaves like that.”

Expressing his opinion against the no carrot rule, Sueño gave her a hard push and knocked her off balance. Rodrigo came to her rescue again and caught her before she fell, holding her a little too close. Her body betrayed her, and her heart and mind followed. Throwing her good-girl reputation to the wind, she fastened to him like Velcro. His warmth soaked into her pores. That hard, muscled chest pressed against her soft contours. She inhaled the scent of his aftershave and filled her lungs with his essence. Heaven could never feel this good.

Sueño snorted again and tugged on the reins, yanking her back to Pacific Daylight Time. Leaping backwards, she extracted herself from Rodrigo’s arms. Keeping a safe distance from the two males, she studied them warily. Rodrigo didn’t seem to notice or care that his white T-shirt now sported several muddy spots.

“You know, you shouldn’t let him get away with that.” Humor glinted in his dark eyes. “He’s being rude.”

“Thanks. I’ll remember that.” She didn’t trust her voice enough to say another word.

She’d just clung to a strange man like he was a Titanic lifeboat and enjoyed every delightful second of it.

* * * *

Wiping his now muddy hands on his jeans, Rico Sanchez, aka Rodrigo Perez, took a second to gather his composure. That close encounter with Mariah flustered him more than he wanted to admit. The feel of her body against his went beyond mere physical attraction and approached the dangerous. He shoved his hands in his pockets and adopted a casual pose. Under that mud was one classy woman. He didn't want to scare her off by acting like an uncivilized ass.

Unfortunately, he’d already earned the title of ass. For starters, he’d been skulking in the woods watching her ride and freaked out her horse. He had no idea horses were such flaky animals.

While scaring the horse had been an accident, lying about his name had been deliberate. He wasn't sure what had prompted him to do that. She might not even recognize the name if she'd heard it. It'd been so long since he'd been in the news.

He was here to find the person he'd lost, the real person under the public image. He needed to be around people who didn't have any preconceived notions about him. Since his popularity had gone down the tubes, the only women interested in him were gold diggers and publicity seekers. The Gold Diggers had no clue that his money had followed his popularity into the toilet. A little white lie about his identity in exchange for a month of anonymity wasn't too much to ask.

The horse snorted and pawed the ground, demanding her attention. Rico looked at the animal. It blinked its big brown eyes at him. Perhaps he had an ally in that furry, four-legged beast. “What’s his name?” After all, a guy should know the names of his allies.

“Sueño. Sueño Araña.” Removing her riding helmet, she plucked a clump of mud and grass from her long mahogany hair.

“Dream Weaver,” Rico mused. “Is he your dream weaver?”

“I guess you could say that.” Mariah chewed on her lower lip. “I really need to clean up and finish my ride, Rodrigo, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you.”

She hesitated then leading Sueño, she turned away and walked through the gate toward the small red barn.

Rico watched her go. He knew a dismissal when he heard it, but that had never deterred him before. He didn’t give up that easily on a woman who intrigued him.

Reluctant to let her leave, he hurried after her. She glanced at him but kept walking. “Do you need something else?”

“Uh, yes. What’s the best restaurant around here?”

“Rosario Resort has good food. It’s not cheap, but the view of the bay is worth the price. They have a piano bar and dancing, too.”

“Sounds romantic.”

She blushed and looked away, increasing her pace. Damn, he almost had to run to keep up. Now there was a unique situation: Rico Sanchez running after a woman. Well, a damaged ego was worth a reprieve from the loneliness. Talking to her made him forget how empty he felt inside.

He checked out her left hand and didn’t find a ring. He made it a practice not to mess with another man’s woman. He did have his scruples.

They entered the barn, and Mariah tied Sueño to a post. The wide aisle was neat and tidy with a couple stalls on both sides. Rico watched as she used a wet paper towel to clean her face. Even in her messed-up state, she enchanted him. Right then, he knew what he wanted to do. A little romance never hurt anyone, and he could use an attractive distraction like her.

“What time can I pick you up?” He grinned. With an expertise born of practice, he disguised his insecurities behind a wall of cocky confidence.

“I don’t even know you.” Her green eyes took on a stubborn glint.

Rico focused the full heat of his gaze on her. “Have dinner with me tonight, and we can work on that.” He flashed his most disarming grin, guaranteed to charm the resistance out of any woman. In his younger years, he’d mastered hustling a woman to the point of perfection then to the point of boredom. He suspected hustling this woman would prove to be anything but boring, especially as out of practice as he was.

His gaze roamed over her killer body. The skin-tight riding breeches and soiled tank top did little to hide her delectable curves. In fact, the mud stuck to all the right places. He smiled in true appreciation as he brought his eyes back to hers. Her cheeks turned redder than a stop sign when she caught him staring.

“So, what time?”

“I can’t, I have plans tonight.”

“Change them please.” He smiled and turned on the Latin charm, attempting to disarm her reluctance. Her emotions played across her face, making her as easy to read as a theater marquee. He’d never considered innocence to be sexy before, but it sure as hell was on her.

“Sorry.”

“You break my heart.” He put his hands to his chest.

“I doubt that. It was nice meeting you, Rodrigo. Now I must get back to work.” She turned her back on him.

Rico opened his mouth to protest then snapped it shut. He loved challenges, and her refusal only encouraged him.

ADULT EXCERPT

She was behaving like a bad girl, a very bad girl. She’d always been a good girl. She shouldn’t be doing this. The rest of her mind and body shut out that one small voice until it was forgotten. That voice of reason stood no chance during a time of lust.

“Mariah,” Rodrigo whispered into her mouth. “God, you are hot. I gotta have you, Mariah.”

He picked her up and cradled her in his arms. She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He carried her into the bedroom, kissing her the whole time. “You’re making me crazy, baby.”

He laid her tenderly on the bed. Drunk with love, she sprawled there, lazily regarding him with half-lidded eyes.

Rodrigo unzipped his fly, his mocha eyes never leaving hers. He stripped his jeans with the efficiency of a man on a mission. Grinning at her, he pulled his underwear down over his hips and kicked his clothes out of the way.

The reality of her situation slammed her back to earth’s atmosphere. Mariah stared at him in abject horror. It was so huge. Clutching the blanket, she scooted further up the bed, closer to the headboard.

Judging by the puzzled and hurt expression on his face, her negative reaction to his size was an unfamiliar experience to him. She couldn’t take her eyes off his huge cock. Compared to Rodrigo, Warren had looked like a short, stubby pencil. Maybe that’s why Jamal always called him a little prick. Guys probably had a sixth sense about stuff like that. Did guys with big pricks command more respect? She didn’t have clue, but there was no way that thing would fit. Warren, the little prick, had hurt her because of her tightness. That thing would never work. Never.

“Rye?” Rodrigo questioned her. He knelt at the foot of the bed, absently rubbing her ankles.

“It won’t fit,” she choked. Her eyes were glued to his midsection.

A soft smile gentled the corners of his mouth, “Of course, it will. We’ll make sure it does.”

“It’s too big.”

He tried his best to look serious. “At the risk of permanently damaging my male ego, I have to admit that I’m not unusually large.”

“You look enormous to me.”

“Well, thanks, but I’m not.” The man actually had the decency to look embarrassed.

“It’ll hurt.”

“Baby, I promise. I’ll take care of you. I’ll go slow. You’ll adjust to me. Trust me.”

His words didn’t convince her one bit. The earlier spell broken, she fought against the panic rising inside her. Oh, no. Oh no. Oh no. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She thought it would be different with Rigo. She thought she’d be okay. But she wasn’t, she was scared to death. Scared that he’d hurt her, or she wouldn’t be good enough, or he’d be disappointed, and she’d be a failure once again.

Rodrigo crawled toward her on his hands and knees. She drew back but had nowhere left to go. He stroked her hair, concern etched on his face. Mariah stared at him, not looking anywhere but his eyes. She attempted to ignore his nakedness, refusing to look at that thing again.

“I’m scared.” Her voice was no more than a croak. Her fear paralyzed her.

“Tell me what you want me to do. Do you want to stop? You’d better make up your mind right away because I may not be able to stop if we get much further.”

Mariah shook her head. She had to trust Rodrigo to help her. “No, I want to do this. I need to do this. Please, just kiss me and be gentle with me. Set me free, Rigo. Please. You’re the only man who can.”

A tender smile played at the corners of his mouth. He kissed her with great care and passion. She felt like a China doll that he was trying his best not to break. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, concentrating on his caresses. Drifting away, she lost herself again in the sensation of his body against hers and his masterful lips and hands. He eased her lace underwear down her hips and past her knees and ankles. Attempting to distract her, he kissed her mouth, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts.

“I need this, Mariah. I need you.” The gravel in his voice betrayed the extreme control he exercised on his emotions. “I ache to be inside you.”

His lips and teeth teased her. He slipped his hands below her waist. One hand caressed her back and the roundness of her butt. His other hand found its way between her legs. He stroked her thighs, his fingers moving higher, seeking heaven.

Mariah clamped her legs together out of habit. Yet, she could feel her wetness, feel how hot she was for him.

“You have my hand in a vise grip, baby. Loosen up.” His soft accented voice cajoled her. A remote part of her foggy brain registered that his accent grew stronger the more turned on he became. She loosened her legs, allowing him to touch her. She wanted to trust him.

He sat back on his haunches, his eyes smoldered with unleashed heat. His gaze focused between her legs. Mariah looked away from him, feeling exposed and vulnerable. She squirmed, but resisted closing her legs.

“It’s okay, baby. You’ll like this.” Stretching out beside her, he ran his index finger through the moist curls. His free hand milked a nipple while his mouth fastened onto the other. He teased her with his fingers and stroked her wet slit until her body instinctively responded. Shifting his position, he straddled her body. His fingers parted her, opening her to him. She tensed when one long finger entered her. He took his time, massaging her, sliding in deeper with each stroke.

Dragging his mouth from her nipple, he gasped. “You okay, Rye? That feel good?”

Surprisingly, it did feel good, really good. The intimate stroking of his finger sent little waves of pleasure shuddering through her. Rodrigo sunk his finger up to his knuckle, slipping easily through her wetness. Gaining a little confidence, she relaxed by a degree. He took advantage and eased a second finger inside her. It was little uncomfortable at first, but her body adjusted. Using his thumb, he stroked that spot guaranteed to drive her insane. She arched, spread her legs wider, took his fingers deeper. He moved his fingers in and out, faster and faster, picking up speed, and pulling her to the brink.

Over the edge.

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