Playing With Desire. Reese RyanЧитать онлайн книгу.
was brilliant.”
Karina’s tight smile relaxed into a more genuine one. No quicker way to the woman’s heart than to recognize her outstanding balletic skills. Even nearing the end of her career, no one could pull off double and triple fouettés with the skill, beauty and sheer will of Karina Alexandrova. “Thank you, Maya. And please, call me Karina. All my friends do. And any friend of Liam’s is certainly a friend of mine.” She shifted her gaze to him.
Liam nodded toward the roses on her dressing table. “I see you got the flowers.”
“Yes, and they are very beautiful. Thank you. You always know how to make a girl feel special.” Karina gave him a knowing grin, then turned back to his date. “Maya, have you ever been backstage at a performance?” Maya shook her head. “Then we must make this a special occasion. Several members of the company are having a small opening-night reception, if you’d like to meet some of the other dancers. Would you like that?”
Maya’s eyes danced. Utterly adorable. “I would.”
Karina opened the door and summoned a stagehand. She poked her head back inside the dressing room. “Gordo will walk you over to the reception. If you don’t mind, I need to borrow Liam for a moment or two. Then I’ll send him right over.”
Maya glanced at him, her brows furrowed. He nodded, his arms crossed as he leaned against a dressing table. “I’ll catch up with you shortly,” he said. A message meant for both Maya and Karina.
She smiled in response, then thanked Karina before following Gordo down the hall.
Karina locked the door, then stood with her back pressed against it. She pursed her lips and gave him that look. The one that always meant trouble.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” She inched closer, her gaze gliding down the length of his body.
“Neither was I. After all, the last time we saw each other you chucked a metal garbage can at my head. Only missed it by this much.” He held up his thumb and forefinger to demonstrate. “Forgive me if I was a little skeptical when you offered opening-night tickets for me and a guest. How’d you know I was here in Pleasure Cove? Last time we spoke I was still in LA.”
“A girl has her ways. And as for our little...misunderstanding, you know us ballerinas. We’re a temperamental lot.” She shrugged, a feigned look of innocence on her face. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”
Liam chuckled. “You did indeed. Thank you for the tickets. I was debating whether to use them when I discovered Maya had never been to the ballet. Seemed like fate.”
Karina stepped as close as his long legs, stretched out in front of him, would allow. Frustrated by the barrier he’d created between them, she folded her arms and pursed her lips. “I know I left you a guest ticket, but I hoped you’d come alone.”
“Still reigning queen of the mixed signal, I see.”
“I would think you’d understand them by now.” She pouted.
He did. In fact, before meeting Maya, he’d been debating whether to take Karina up on her offer. Doing so would’ve been a mistake. He realized that now. “Karina, you’re a talented, beautiful woman, and I adore you. But we’ve been down this road before, love. Time to stop bashing our heads against the wall.”
She turned her back to him and strode toward her dressing table on the other side of the room. Raising her eyes, she met the reflection of his gaze in the mirror.
“I was angry before, and I apologize for that. We agreed to an open relationship. Then I changed the rules. It was wrong of me. I realize that now.”
“Appreciate the apology.” His posture softened. “Doesn’t change the fact that you want more than I can give you. You deserve to be happy. I want that for you, but it’s not something I’m prepared to offer. Sorry, love.”
She crossed the room and stood in front of him again. “I don’t need anything more. I can be happy with things the way they were.”
“No, you can’t.” Liam stood. He gripped Karina’s shoulders and kissed her forehead. “And we both know it.”
He walked to the door and unlocked it.
“What about Maya?” Karina’s voice was shaky. “Can you give her what she deserves?”
He slipped out of her dressing room without a response. It was a question best left unanswered.
By the time he found Maya, she’d drunk two glasses of champagne and met nearly half the ballet company. They stepped outside the theater and into the warm night air. The salty breeze coming off the Atlantic Ocean rustled loose strands of her hair. Her skin glistened in the light of the moon shining brightly above. She’d been practically giddy back at the party. Suddenly, she seemed sad.
“What’s wrong?”
Maya shook her head. The knot she wore at the back of her head had loosened and hung low over her right shoulder. “Nothing. Tonight was incredible. Just like you promised. Thank you. I had a wonderful time.”
“What, you think the night is over? It’s not even midnight.”
“Way past my bedtime.” She laughed.
“That saddens me deeply.” He chuckled. “Besides, it’s your birthday. That warrants an exception, wouldn’t you say? You’d planned to go to a jazz club with your sister tonight. So let’s do it.”
“You listen to jazz? Really?” Arms crossed, she regarded him as if he were trying to convince her that the earth was flat.
“Don’t look so surprised. I’m a man of many interests. Classic American jazz happens to be one of them.”
“Who’s your favorite jazz artist?”
“Miles Davis, though I’m also partial to John Coltrane and Dave Brubeck.”
“Favorite Miles album?” She narrowed her gaze.
He smiled. “Is that even a question? Kind of Blue, of course.”
Shoulders relaxed, she nodded her agreement. “There’s a small jazz club near the waterfront that plays live music on Friday nights. The place is a dive, but the music is excellent and the martinis are fantastic. We missed the earlier jazz band, but they play Latin jazz at midnight. There’ll be dancing, if you like that sort of thing.”
“Spent a few holidays knocking about South America. My samba is a little rusty, but I do an impressive mambo.” He winked.
“Is that right?” She smiled, eyes twinkling. “Well, that’s something I seriously need to see.”
At the jazz club, the ten-piece band crowded the small stage. The vocalist belted out a song over the blare of the horns and the rhythm of the bongos and congas. The dense Friday night crowd, comprised mostly of tourists, pressed in all around them. However, Liam’s focus was on only one thing: Maya.
She was stunning in that strapless red dress. Released from the knot, her loose curls grazed her bare shoulders as she swayed her hips to the music in ways that made portions of his anatomy sit up and take notice. She was relaxed. Openly flirtatious.
The alcohol she’d consumed no doubt contributed to her relaxed state of mind. Yet, she wasn’t drunk. She was less guarded. More comfortable in her own skin.
On the dance floor, she owned her beauty. Embraced her sensuality. When they first met, she almost seemed embarrassed by it.
The band took a break and the female vocalist started singing a slow romantic ballad accompanied only by the guitarist and keyboardist.
Maya turned to leave the dance floor, but Liam caught her hand in his. Turning back to him, she smiled. One arm slung low across