Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Greta smiled slightly. “Partner dances are a crucial part of ballet.”
“But it’s your dream to dance. You just give up even though I could help you get a spot in Juillard if that’s what you really wanted.”
Dad would kick my ass. The Falcones probably too. Not to mention that it would look hella suspicious if I helped Greta. But she’d be in New York.
Fuck.
And then what?
I was still supposed to marry Cressida. She had completely ignored my dishonorable stunt in the Sphere. She’d probably even accept me fucking someone in front of her. She wanted to become my wife, no matter the price.
Greta’s smile brightened. And fuck, seeing it, I would have promised her the world. What was this girl doing to me?
“I love to dance. But on stage today I realized something very important. Doing this program won’t make me love ballet more. My love for ballet isn’t linked to being on stage, possibly quite the contrary. Dancing is my happy place, it gives me comfort and quiets the static in my head. Doing this program would have made me anxious about dancing, would have eventually made me loathe and fear something that means so much. That’s not really worth it, do you think?”
I shook my head, once again amazed by her way of thinking. I loved how she described her feelings about ballet. “So you’re okay?”
“I will be,” she said softly. “I’m sad now.”
I took another step closer, forgetting myself, forgetting everything else too.
“I didn’t expect you to be here today.”
“I told you I had to see you. I couldn’t wait for a better moment,” I said, throwing caution to the wind. I wasn’t even sure what was going on anymore. We were close now, closer than Mika had been, but we weren’t touching.
She didn’t look scared, which didn’t make sense. If a gay, skinny dancer had made her tense on a stage surrounded by people, then being alone with me in this dark corridor should have sent her body into overdrive.
“Am I too close?” I asked gruffly.
Greta simply stared at me. I wished I knew what was going on in her mind, if she felt as unhinged when I was close as I did whenever I saw her. She looked absolutely irresistible in her leotard and tutu. It was something I’d never given a second glance, but this girl in front of me made me weak in the knee looking like she did.
Her words about kissing me crossed my mind and this was the worst possible moment for them to pop up. I was alone with Greta and she wasn’t telling me to back off.
Maybe I was reading her wrong, but I didn’t think I was. Then again I’d never been with a girl like Greta.
“I’m going to do something I shouldn’t do, Greta. Something I swore I wouldn’t do. If you don’t stop me,” I growled.
Greta swallowed, but she didn’t move, didn’t say anything.
I cupped her cheeks in both of my hands, cradling her soft skin, locking eyes with hers. She held my gaze, her breath fanning sweetly over my face. I ran my thumbs over her cheekbones, searching her eyes. Those soulful dark kind eyes that always gripped me by the heart and didn’t let go.
“If you don’t say something…” I trailed off and lowered my lips to hers. I wanted to claim her as mine. I wanted her with every furious pump of my heart. The moment our lips touched my body flushed with heat and my pulse raced in my veins, and everything fell into place. Her lips were the softest I’d ever felt. I wanted this kiss, this moment, to last forever.
Every kiss, every touch, everything faded into meaninglessness.
Greta’s eyes fluttered shut and she covered my hands with her much smaller ones, keeping me in place. It was all the encouragement I needed. I nudged her lips with my tongue. She parted for me and her tongue met mine hesitantly. A low rumble echoed in my chest as I tasted her, a hint of mint and chocolate, unbelievably addicting. It was a slow, sensual kiss. No urgency even if our time was limited. I wanted to savor every second of this. One of my hands moved from her cheek to the back of her head.
Slowly I pulled away, even as my body screamed for more, for another taste, another touch, simply more. Greta’s dark eyes locked on mine, her lips parted, chest heaving. “You kissed me,” she said in wonder.
“Yeah.” The world around us slowly began to come back into focus. I’d kissed Greta Falcone in a dark corridor, with Fabiano and her brother nearby.
My palm still rested on her cheek and her palm on top of it. “You swore you’d never do this. Why? Because of Cressida?”
I chuckled bitterly. A good man would have felt qualms about this because of his fiancée but I didn’t. Cressida meant nothing to me, neither did I to her. We both knew why we were going to marry. Feelings, especially love had nothing to do with it.