it into his mouth, closing his eyes as if he were sampling a rare delicacy. “Lucky for me.”
“Would you like some wine?” she asked with a laugh, unable to resist any longer.
“Love some.” He tossed his jacket carelessly over the back of the sofa.
She stood to retrieve another glass and the wine bottle from the bar before pouring him a drink. Walking back to where he sat, she handed him the glass, resuming her seat on the floor in front of the sofa.
She picked up a slice of pizza and took a tiny bite, too excited to eat. Damien Johnson was in her home, and he was offering her the part of a lifetime; she was going to dance Juliet!
Suddenly, he took her hand, pulling her up onto the sofa beside him. She started to protest but decided against it.
“Tell me about yourself, Natasha.”
“There’s little to tell.” She swallowed with difficulty. She couldn’t breathe when he was this close to her.
“I doubt that.” He took another drink of his wine. “How long have you been dancing?”
“Since I was five.”
“You were brilliant in Swan Lake.”
“Thanks.” She sipped her wine. “I’m surprised you could pick me out of the ensemble.”
“You danced the lead in a matinee performance,” he reminded.
“How do you know that?”
“I was in the audience. Your performance was the reason you received an invitation to my tryouts.”
“I only danced the lead in one performance when the lead was sick. It’s lucky you picked that showing to attend.”
He smiled. “Luck had nothing to do with it.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I asked Ted Levy—” he dropped the name of her ex-director “—to let you dance that performance so I could see you onstage before an audience.”
She nearly choked on her wine. “You what?”
He chuckled. “You heard me.”
“I wish I had known I was auditioning.”
“Why? You would have been too nervous had you known my intentions. My way was better.”
She supposed he was right. Anyway, what did it matter now? Everything had worked out for the best.
“I tried out for the lead in that ballet and a lot of others.”
“You didn’t get it,” he softly finished for her.
“No.”
“And that bothers you?”
“No…yes.” She paused and continued, “I don’t want to sound conceited…”
“You don’t.” He touched her cheek tenderly. “Let’s face it, Natasha. We both chose careers that are extremely hard for African-Americans to excel in.”
“That’s true,” she agreed on a sigh. “But I never wanted to be anything else.”
“You shouldn’t be anything else. You’re meant to dance.”
She smiled at his genuine praise before admitting, “This is my chance, Damien.”
“I know.” He nodded his head.
He was so understanding—so genuine. She wasn’t used to having anyone like him sympathize with her plight—except her family, of course. In a few minutes, he had made her want to open up in ways no one else ever had. That realization unnerved her and prompted her to switch the focus of conversation onto him.
“How long since you stopped performing?”
His eyes clouded a little. “Ten years.”
“Don’t you miss it?”
“Some.” He shrugged. “But I’m much more fueled by the creation and execution of the dance than actually performing.”
“You’re excellent at it,” she praised. “All of your ballets received rave reviews. Everyone is expecting great things from this one, as well.”
He winked at her. “And I don’t intend to disappoint them.”
“You won’t.”
“We won’t.” He squeezed her hand lightly.
From his reputation, she had expected him to be full of himself, but he was kind and utterly likeable. He didn’t laugh at her, try to trample on her dreams, or expect anything from her as so many others had in the past. He seemed to genuinely believe in her talent—that she could dance the lead—and she wasn’t going to disappoint him.
Unable to stop himself, he lightly fingered her cheek before moving down her jaw. He smiled when she gasped softly. His eyes lowered to inspect the pulse beating erratically at the base of her slender, graceful throat before his hungry gaze returned to her uneasy one.
She pulled back slightly, and his fingers fell away from her soft flesh. He leaned forward and picked up another slice of pizza. She took a drink of her wine and watched him silently for a few minutes. There was no denying the sexual tension between them was as thick as suffocating fog, but they were going to spend months in each other’s presence and would have to come to an understanding of what their relationship would be.
“Damien, I don’t want anyone to think that…” She paused, unsure of how to continue.
“What?”
She exhaled before continuing. “I don’t want anyone to think that I didn’t earn this part.”
He stared at her silently for several seconds. She tried to discern what he was thinking. Had her unspoken worry been communicated to him? When understanding blossomed in his eyes and he smiled, she knew he appreciated her concern.
“People will think what they will, Natasha, but we both know the only reason you’re going to dance Juliet is because you earned it, don’t we?”
She returned his smile. “Yes, we do.”
“Good.” He stood and placed on his jacket. “Rehearsal starts tomorrow at 5:30 a.m. sharp.”
“I’ll be there,” she assured while walking him to the door. “Thank you again for this opportunity, Damien.”
“You don’t owe me anything except a flawless performance.” He touched her arm lightly before leaving.
Once alone, Natasha’s smile turned into jubilant laughter. She pirouetted around the room before plopping happily down onto the sofa. She had done it; she was going to dance the part of Juliet! Snatching up the phone, she tried
