Ballet Master by Cassie Mint
Ten
Raphael
The river sparkles in the evening light, snaking between the avenues below. I stand at the edge of the hotel roof terrace, a warm breeze tugging at my hair, and fill my lungs with a deep inhale.
Paige.
I gust out my breath.
It’s done. I have solved the problems I caused her. There is nothing left to do now but return to the airport. My plane ticket is booked, my bags are packed, and yet I can’t seem to force my feet to turn and go.
A life without Paige… Never seeing her dance again. Never making her sweet mouth sigh and utter bad words.
I can’t bear it.
“Fuck.” I tear my gaze away from the river and turn back to the terrace, ready to force myself to honor her wishes. She doesn’t want to see me again, so I will not cause her trouble, even though my chest is one throbbing mass of pain.
A movement catches my eye. Graceful and slight.
It can’t be.
Paige stands ten feet away on the terrace, watching me with unreadable eyes. Her pale blue dress whips in the breeze, floating around her legs, and goosebumps ripples over her crossed arms.
“Paige?” Her name is thick in my mouth. “Do you need something from me?”
Perhaps the name of a contact. Or a reference of some kind.
Whatever she asks, I will give.
But Paige does not answer straight away. She cocks her head, watching me closely.
“These auditions…” She firms her shoulders. Clears her throat. “Are they real? You know… based on talent? You haven’t bribed anyone, right?”
I straighten, affronted.
“Of course not.” What kind of man does she think I am? “You will have to dance your best to be in with a chance.”
She relaxes slightly, her eyes warming.
“Good,” she whispers. “That’s good.” Her fingers pluck at her floaty skirt, but she doesn’t say anymore. And though I hate to leave her presence, my flight is waiting.
“I must go.” Her eyes widen, and though I shouldn’t, I risk a step closer. If I could only catch her scent one more time, even touch her—but I will not be greedy. So I give her a polite smile. “My flight leaves shortly. If you need anything from me, you can reach me via my agent.”
Her lip wobbles. I reach for her, gut churning, my hand hovering uselessly in the air. What the hell have I said now?
“You’re going?” Her voice is so small. “When will you be back?”
Months. Perhaps years.
But there is something lost in her eyes. So I risk the question, even though her answer may hurt.
“When would you like me to come back?”
She scoffs, scowling at her feet. “Tomorrow,” she says, so sullen. “As soon as you arrive, I want you to turn around and get back on the plane.”
She is in a huff, my funny girl, so busy staring at the roof tiles that she misses my sudden grin.
She wants me to stay.
My heart—it might burst.
“Paige,” I say carefully. “Come here, please.”
She scuffs her sandal against the terrace. Her hands grip her elbows so tight, her fingertips turn white, and that’s how I know that she is hurting.
Never again.
I’ve made enough mistakes for our lifetime.
“Paige.” I put some command into the word, using the air of the ballet master. The man who calls the shots; who makes and breaks dreams. Her feet move automatically, before her brain realizes, and I snatch her close and hold her against my chest.
“I don’t understand.” Her words are muffled in my shirt. I kiss the top of her head, hard.
“I love you, angel. Do you understand that?”
She freezes. Then, all at once, her arms band tight around my waist.
“I love you too.” The tip of her nose brushes my chest. “I’m so sorry, Raphael. I thought…”
“What?”
The tips of her ears turn red. “That it was about sex. Not love.”
Even as she confesses her fears, her slight body pressed against my own makes my blood pump faster. Hotter. I duck my head, nipping at her earlobe.
“I see. Can it not be both?”
She sucks in a surprised breath, then melts against me, rubbing her hips against mine.
I chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
