His Love - Cassandra Dee Page 0,19

meals. I can’t, Luke, it’s impossible.”

I frowned. What the fuck? Nutrition shakes, like Ensure for old people? That shit tasted disgusting as fuck, and smelled like garbage most times.

“I’m going to talk with Miss Lane,” I ground out. “No dancer should be on meal replacement drinks, especially not one as young as you.”

Kitty colored, speaking quickly.

“No it’s not that,” she corrected, stumbling over the words. “Miss Lane was making a suggestion, it’s not a requirement.”

But I could tell that the female was just saying that. Miss Lane had made derogatory comments about my girl’s body and I was going to set that bitch straight. I was going to put her in her place because it was one of the benefits of being CEO.

“No,” I drawled. “That chick is off the reservation, and I’m going to talk to her about it,” I threw out casually. “Along with some other things.”

Kitty colored.

“Like my solo last night?”

My chest practically expanded with pride.

“Absolutely your solo,” I ground out. “You were fucking amazing honey, absolutely dazzling as the Red Queen.”

I wasn’t just saying that. My girl is a brilliant dancer and Kitty colored.

“It was amazing wasn’t it?” she whispered. “I never felt so moved by the music, the melody took over my limbs, I was on another plane. Thank you for giving me the chance, Luke,” she colored. “I know you put in a good word for me.”

I grinned.

“It wasn’t just a good word, honey, you deserved it,” I said.

And what I was saying was true. Because Kitty was up there, she was definitely part of the elite with her expressiveness, the detail with which she performed every move, the obvious delight she took from dance. I’d greased the wheels, sure, but the girl had done it herself. After all, you can put a dog on stage, but you can’t make it perform unless it’s got that special something within.

So I grinned again.

“It’s all you, sweetheart,” I ground out.

Kitty colored.

“But I know you had something to do with it.”

My huge shoulders shrugged.

“So what? That’s what the boss does. We find underutilized talent and make suggestions. Something wrong with that?” my eyebrow quirked.

Kitty bit her lip.

“No, not at all, I just don’t want the other dancers to talk, that’s all,” she said softly.

Aw fuck. The other dancers. One of the things I hate about ballet troupes is that it’s like a fucking coop of chickens sometimes. With this much estrogen and this much competition, the females can be vicious, biting each other with sharp beaks, pecking each other’s eyes out.

“Why, someone say something to you?” I said casually, voice smooth. Of course, I was going to pound that fucker into the ground if Kitty had been treated badly. Or more accurately, I was going to fire them, their dreams of stardom in the big city gone kaput.

“No, not at all,” said Kitty slowly. “It’s just a feeling I have. Call it girl sense.”

An eyebrow raised.

“Girl sense? What’s that?”

The brunette shrugged slim shoulders again, big boobs going up and down, distracting as fuck.

“It’s just a feeling,” she said in a low voice. “But I don’t want to say anything because there’s nothing concrete. Can we talk about something else Luke?” she murmured. “Forget I said anything. Show me what you like to do in the gym, let’s get back to you,” she smiled persuasively.

I could tell the brunette wanted to change the subject, it was only too obvious. And I get it. When you have nothing but a chill down your spine, it’s hard to say exactly what’s wrong. But as a billionaire CEO, I’ve learned to trust my instincts and that fucking chill is often the first sign that shit is about to hit the fan. So my little girl wasn’t wrong, she wasn’t a space case or some batshit crazy insane woman. Kitty was probably right on the money, she just didn’t have the experience to know it yet.

And I resolved to keep a close eye on her. Because that curvy figure, that sweet frame, were too much to sacrifice. I wanted her happy and flush, bouncing up and down my dick every night, and if Kitty was upset about some shit, it wasn’t going to happen. I wanted that pussy ripe, spread open and willing, and that meant my girl needed to be comfortable, ready to entertain hard cock at all hours.

But right. We were in the gym, and the girl was flirting with me now. Walking over to the elliptical trainer, she trailed