He had no idea what combination of qualities allowed her to get to him. Did he want to rescue her? Was it the blend of honesty and raw vulnerability? Yes, she was pretty, but so were a lot of women. She wasn’t unusually funny or smart. So why couldn’t he just walk away?

He tried talking to his great-aunt about the problem but she’d insisted that wasn’t a phone conversation. If he wanted to talk about Unity, he was going to have to come to Silver Pines.

He ignored her ultimatum for two days before finally making the drive. When he arrived at her house, there was a note on her front door that said she was at the east community room and he should join her there. As if she knew he would be arriving this afternoon.

“I hate being predictable,” he muttered, following the signs to the building in question and going inside.

Inside, double doors were propped open and music with a classic Cuban beat spilled out. He moved toward the sound, knowing he would find Dagmar in the middle of whatever party was going on. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t recognize the danger until it was too late.

He was all the way inside the room when he realized it wasn’t a party—it was a dance lesson. Before he could bolt for safety, the music stopped and he heard a familiar voice calling, “Darling, you made it. And your timing is perfect. You know how I love to rumba.”

His great-aunt sailed toward him. She’d replaced the purple streak in her hair with a green one. Today she had on a dress with a full skirt that came to midcalf, and dance heels. The music began again and he instinctively took her in his arms and began to dance.

The movements were familiar. Slow, quick, quick. He moved her around the room, keeping pace with the other ten or so pairs of dancers. He guided her through a crossover break, then spun her expertly before returning to the basic step. As they continued around the room, he noticed about five or six women standing in a group. They were all staring at him expectantly.

Dagmar waved at them. “You know you’re going to have to dance with my friends who don’t have partners.”

“I could tell you no.”

She smiled. “I doubt that.”

She was right, so he surrendered to the inevitable and danced with all the single women for the better part of two hours. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about getting in his workout today.

When everyone was finally sated, he drove Dagmar home. She fixed a plate of appetizers while he made cocktails. After everything was prepared, they made their way to her living room.

“Thank you for dancing with my friends,” she told him, toasting him with her drink. “That was very sweet of you. We’ll be talking about it for weeks.”