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13 Tanya tossed back a Stoli vodka which lit a fire deep in her belly. She didn’t sip it because she didn’t want to get drunk. She wanted the heat. Actually, she wanted to have an excuse for the heat she was already feeling. The Regrettes was a garage-funk-punk rock-or-something band with three female leads and a male drummer. It didn’t matter what they were, they’d burned up the stage with two hours of totally danceable music without even a breath between songs. The DC9 hall was packed with the young people of Washington, DC dancing as hard as at any Ukrainian disco. Alex didn’t just dance, he danced well. Very well, which was the real cause of the heat coursing through her. She’d expected a merely fun evening. But Alex was a man who knew how to lead, how to make any dance snap with t