Chapter 3

I wasn't sure about adding another chapter to be honest-Alberto really doesn't get much love, does he? : ) Anyway, I'm actually taking Spanish classes at the moment, so may not need google translate for much longer. : )

As always, I have no beta, so any grammar mistakes are mine. Apologies. : )

'…Other dancers may be on the floor, dear,

But my eyes will see only you.

Only you have that magic technique-

When we sway, I go weak.

I can hear the sound of violins,

Long before it begins.

Make me thrill as only you know how-

Sway me smooth, sway me now…'

-'Sway' written by Pablo Beltrán Ruiz, 1953 (the version I have in mind is the one by the Pussycat Dolls)

/

Sharona sincerely wished she hadn't told Kaitlyn about her little visit from a certain Mexican earlier, but of course, once her friend had returned to their locker-room after a hard-fought victory against AJ, she'd clocked the yellow roses, now stuck haphazardly in a bucket she'd found in the bathroom, and what the hell was she supposed to do with fresh flowers when she travelled so much, anyway?

'Oh, girl, he is into you!' She exclaimed, once Sharona had reluctantly admitted that yes, Alberto had personally delivered said roses. 'You realize how much pride he'd have had to swallow to actually come here himself, right?'

Sharona gave a non-committal grunt in response, unwilling to say anything remotely positive about Señor Del Rio or his pride or his impeccable taste in flowers and suits and cars.

Damn him!

'They're just flowers, Katie.' She replied. 'It's not like he showed up with a fur coat dripping in diamonds or something.'

Kaitlyn snorted. 'Right.' She chuckled. 'Like you'd wear a fur coat dripping in diamonds. You'd beat him with the damn thing first.'

Sharona grinned helplessly at her friend's succinct summation, but then frowned when she added, 'Did he say anything else?'

Heaving a sigh, Sharona told her, 'He asked me out to dinner. And before you ask, I said no.'

'Why?' Kaitlyn seemed genuinely confused, which only seemed to annoy Sharona further.

'Because he's arrogant and impossible and I don't trust him.' She snapped. 'Guys like him, they think they can wave a bunch of flowers in a girl's face, and they'll fall flat on their faces kissing his feet. But not me.'

Immediately, she felt guilty about her words-actually, Alberto had been nothing less than a gentleman when he'd turned up, and honestly, she was wondering if she'd done the right thing, refusing his request for a date.

But no way in hell was she letting anybody else know that-not even her friend.

Seemingly resigned, Kaitlyn threw up her hands. 'Alright,' she ceded. 'You know what you're doing. How do you feel about going out tonight? I was talking to Zack Ryder earlier, and he knows this great little club not far from here, plays some great hip hop, even some Latin. It'd be fun!'

Sharona let out an amused groan. 'I swear, Zack would find a party in a cemetery.' She quipped-truthfully, she was rather fond of 'The Long Island Iced Z', he was a pretty cool guy, despite his colourful dress sense and quirkiness. 'Alright, why not?' She finally agreed. 'Sounds like a cool place.'…

/

As it turned out, the 'Boiler Room' was a cool place-a renovated warehouse, the club had a massive dancefloor and a long, state-of-the-art bar, set in chrome and ebony. Kaitlyn and Sharona arrived first, spotting Zack and John Cena as thy arrived a few minutes later. It seemed, as the building quickly started to fill up with patrons, that it was going to be a busy night.

Sharona went up to the bar and ordered a Corona with a slice of lemon-her favourite drink stemming from her time in Mexico-for herself, and a vodka and Coke for Kaitlyn. As the girls sipped their drinks, Usher's 'Caught Up' started blaring over the sound system, and unconsciously, Sharona started to sway in time to the music.

Kaitlyn grinned. 'Feel like dancing already?' She had to shout to make herself heard.

'Later.' She replied. 'I need a little more Dutch courage first.'

About thirty minutes later, Kaitlyn went to the restroom, and as Sharona stood with her back to the dancefloor, thinking about nothing at all, she suddenly felt a presence at her elbow, and then, a terribly familiar voice murmured, 'You know, somehow, I thought you'd prefer tequila, niña.'

Sharona's mouth dropped open, half in shock, half in horror, as she slowly turned.

It couldn't be, it couldn't be, it couldn't…

And yet, somehow it was. Alberto stood before her, one elbow on the bar, chin tucked under his hand, looking tormentingly casual out of his suit, wearing what she was sure were designer jeans, that seemed to mold to his lean, muscular legs in a way that was all too sexy, and a deceptively simple-looking blue shirt, that probably cost more than she made in a month.

'W-What are you doing here?' She finally managed to splutter, and Alberto actually grinned, causing his eyes to crinkle playfully. He had completely thrown her off-balance, showing up here, looking he could have stepped off of a catwalk, instead of out of a wrestling ring.

'You look surprised to see me, Sharona.' He looked so damnably amused, it should have irritated her, but she was too busy checking him out, she realized to her horror.

Checking him out? That was a joke-she was pretty sure she was mentally undressing the guy!

'I enjoy music as much as the next person.' He continued smoothly. 'And I know the owner.'

'I bet you do.' She muttered, but Alberto seemed totally oblivious to her almost completely non-verbal reaction to him. He probably thought his very appearance had stripped her of the power of speech. Which, actually, was closer to the truth than she would ever tell him.

Then, a Latin beat pounded through the speakers, and Sharona recognized the song as the Pussycat Dolls' version of 'Sway'. And she could scarcely believe it when Alberto, still smiling, extended his hand to her and softly asked, '¿Quieresbailar?'

She gaped at him, scarcely able to believe what he'd just asked of her. Completely flustered now, she replied awkwardly, 'Uh, I…I can't dance.'

He snorted disbelievingly. 'A Latina who can't dance?' He scoffed. 'No such thing, chica.' Grinning, he added, 'Don't worry, I won't step on your feet or anything.'

Helplessly, Sharona finally allowed Alberto to lead her onto the dancefloor, vaguely aware that she was trembling. Okay, she was a decent dancer, but she hadn't danced with a man, really danced with a man, in a long time.

But as the handsome Mexican took her in his arms, Sharona realized that the real reason she was trembling was because she was undeniably attracted to him. He was so incredibly male, with his olive skin and charming smile and expensive cologne. And strong fingers, she noted, as they gripped her waist.

Instinctively, she started to move with him, as they tangoed across the expansive floor, and as he spun her out of his arms and then smoothly back in, she was buffeted against his broad chest, and she glanced up at him, her heart pounding when she saw that Alberto was no longer smiling. His eyes looked even darker, if possible, and he seemed unable to tear his gaze from her.

'Hermosa.' He muttered, and his head dipped, just slightly, as if he were intending to kiss her, but then he was spinning her around the floor again, the moment all but forgotten. Sharona could see now that most people had vacated the dancefloor and were standing at the edge, watching them intently.

Meanwhile, Kaitlyn had returned from the rest room, and was staring across the floor at her friend and Alberto in silent shock. Shar would probably deny it until the cows came home, but they looked so…familiar together, as if they had been dancing together forever.

They also looked incredibly hot together.

A woman suddenly appeared at Kaitlyn's shoulder and asked, 'Do you know those two?' She nodded. 'Uh, yeah.' She responded. 'Well, I know Sharona. She's a friend of mine.'

The woman smiled knowingly. 'They make a very sexy couple, don't they?'

Kaitlyn's eyes widened, and she turned to the woman. 'Oh, no.' She protested. 'They're not a couple.'

Now it was the woman's turn to look shocked. 'Really?' She exclaimed, then, her smile returning, she added, 'Not yet, maybe.'

Sharona felt like she was going to go mad if this didn't end soon. It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying this-she was enjoying it too much. Moulded against Alberto's body like she belonged there, she now found herself wondering how his hands would feel without the barrier of clothing between them and her skin. And those kind of thoughts about this kind of man were far too dangerous.

It would, she mused, despite her initial dislike and mistrust of him, be far too easy to fall for Alberto Del Rio. And she couldn't let that happen.

When the dance ended, and the cheering and applause finally faded, Sharona said, in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood, 'I didn't get this kind of pop when I won my first Women's Championship!'

Alberto chuckled for a moment, then his expression became serious and he asked, 'Can I talk to you for a moment, outside?'

She wanted to say no, to tell him that whatever he thought was happening between them was an illusion, that she felt nothing. But she couldn't refuse that face, damn him.

'I need to go and tell Kaitlyn.' She told him. 'I can't be too long.'

As she hurried over to Kaitlyn, she sighed when she saw her friend was grinning at her. 'Don't start.' She warned.

'Girl, that was hot.' Kaitlyn gasped, completely ignoring her warning, as usual. 'I seriously thought you two were gonna start making out!'

'He wants to talk to me outside.' Sharona said quietly. 'I won't be a minute.'

Kaitlyn arched an eyebrow at her, and she added, a little harshly, 'Don't worry, Katie-nothing's gonna happen.'

'That's just it, Shar.' Was her response. 'I think something already happened.'…

When she finally joined Alberto outside, he was leaning against his car, the black Maserati Gran Turismo, which she loved-it was a magnificent piece of machinery.

He smiled as she approached. 'Es frescoaquí.' He murmured. 'Hacía mucho calor allí, no?'

Sharona didn't know how to respond-was he referring to the general heat of the club, or the heat they'd just generated with that dance?

As if reading her mind, he slowly came towards her, his expression darkening slightly. 'Don't tell me you didn't feel that, chica. What happened back there.'

Feigning a nonchalance she definitely didn't feel, Sharona shrugged. 'It was just a dance.' She replied.

Alberto just stared at her, obviously unable to believe what he was hearing. 'You can't be serious.' He retorted. 'That was more than a dance, and you know it.'

She shook her head, defiant and wondering why she was bothering. She wasn't that good an actress-surely Alberto would see right through this?

'I don't know what to tell you.' She insisted. 'I mean, it was fun, but….that's all it was. If you misunderstood somehow, then I'm sorry.'

Alberto frowned, and then, she was amazed to see a look of hurt cross his face.

Question was, had she hurt his feelings, or his ego?

'Pues, lo siento.' He said stiffly, bowing a little. 'I will not bother you again.'

And without a word, the Mexican aristocrat turned on his heel and walked back inside, leaving Sharona staring after him once again. He seemed genuinely wounded by her rejection, and not for the first time, she wondered if she hadn't made a terrible mistake…

/

Next: Ricardo is attacked by The Big Show-and Alberto has a favour to ask of Sharona. Will she agree? Please R&R-thank you! Ellen.