Prima - Alta Hensley Page 0,17
mid-stage with her arms arched above her head in the fifth position and have an audience’s attention drawn from the art of the dance to wonder what art had been inked into the ballerina’s flesh.
Evidently even in her rebellion she had been smart enough to know there would be times when her insurrection would need to be concealed. The girl wasn’t only smart, she was ripped, clearly in shape, and there was a way she carried herself in the theater that showed she was no nonsense.
Clara Simyoneva was, without a doubt, a badass chick. I was intrigued — hell, nearly intoxicated — by this different side of her. But that didn’t mean I was about to let her get away with any shit. I had no tolerance for the drama always surrounding a diva.
I waited for her to move farther into the room, gesturing toward a chair in front of my desk.
She sank down, placing the duffel she’d been carrying at her feet. “Yuri told me to come on in and work out the contract with you.”
“Sorting the last of the paperwork right now.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I mean, thanks for convincing me to audition. I really appreciate it.”
“Convincing or goading?” I asked with a grin, glad to see her lips curl up in response.
“Either one, I suppose,” she said with a little shrug. “Or perhaps both. Regardless, I’m still glad you did.”
Nodding, I gave her credit for her honesty. “You’re welcome. I’m pleased it worked, and I’m also glad you’re here. We really do need you. You’ll be a great asset to the theater, and I think we can be of benefit to you as well.”
Straightening the papers on my desk, I then pushed them across its surface toward her, placing a pen on the top page. Even as she reached for it, I shook my head, which had her hand hovering in midair above the document. “No, never ever sign a contract without first reading every single line. There are shady people out there, and you don’t want to get into some hell hole you can’t climb out of.”
Green eyes lifted to meet mine, and I could see the pain reflected in their depths. Remembering my research into her life, it was easy to imagine her informing me she was extremely familiar with hell. Yet, within the time it took her to blink, the pain disappeared and a resolve took its place.
“Are you saying you run a corrupt company or are dishonest with those who dance for you?”
The question took me aback for a moment, but I supposed I’d stepped right into that line of questioning.
“Not at all. We might be demanding of our dancers, but we pride ourselves on being totally honest.” Reaching down without losing eye contact, I plucked the pen from the top sheet and nodded. “And being principled means I need to know you’ve read every page and understand what the content of the contract entails.” Sitting back, I added, “Would you like something to drink while you read?”
“No, I’m fine,” she said, picking up the contract and dropping her eyes to scan the words that would bind her to the Volkov Ballet for the foreseeable future.
While she read, I rose and moved across the room to a mini-fridge. After grabbing two bottles of water, I returned to my desk, set my bottle down on a coaster, opened the second, and held it out. Without looking up, she reached for it and moved it to her lips. I grinned as she downed half the contents before lowering the bottle and looking at it as if perplexed at how it had gotten into her hand. I didn’t tease her, simply sat down and drank mine far slower, content to watch the beauty’s lips move as she silently read to herself. My cock instantly twitched as I imagined those lips wrapped around it, the tip of her tongue that occasionally licked the surface of her bottom lip laving up and down my rigid shaft instead. She flipped the first page over to begin reading the second. I wasn’t surprised when after reading the last paragraph on the final page, she turned the sheets back, finished her bottle of water and then read through the entire document again. Like I’d thought, she was a smart woman.
After she was done, she looked up.
“Any questions?” I asked.
“Not really,” she said nonchalantly but the brief hesitation told me she did have a few.
“Honesty goes both ways,” I said, nodding