Prima - Alta Hensley Page 0,29

with all of us before turning to address Clara specifically. “If we can keep you dancing like that no matter what production we put on, then not only will you have proven you truly are worthy of the title of Prima, Volkov Ballet will be recognized as the outstanding company my mother intended it to be.” Everyone cheered in agreement.

As I glanced over to Clara, I couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t lifted a glass to join in the toast simply because she wasn’t holding one. I didn’t know if she wanted to keep a level head, or if it had more to do with her addictive personality, but I instantly felt a bond with her — like we were the outsiders of this rowdy, crazy group.

She seemed to sense me looking, and her eyes locked on mine. She gave me a tentative smile that had my own mug pausing on its way to my lips. There was something more in that smile, something I couldn’t help but think of as expectation. Suddenly, my grin grew as another scenario bloomed in my head. Maybe, just maybe, she was a bit concerned over a possible penalty she’d be forced to pay if Yuri whipped out some sort of breath analyzer and discovered she’d drunk even a drop of alcohol. I’d never truly given the definition of penalty much thought, but now the possibilities seemed limitless.

Fuck. Every time I vowed to myself I was going to behave, that I was going to keep away from her for the sake of everyone else, I couldn’t seem to do it. It was as if she was some sort of magnet and I was made of steel.

“Don’t,” Yuri growled into my ear, anger lacing his tone.

So much for his exuberance. It only took a glance at him to see he was now glaring at Clara, clearly noticing I had been staring at her. He was always making comments about me being a distraction for his dancers, and I knew for a fact it would piss him off if I went anywhere near Clara.

But I no longer really gave a shit what pissed him off. We might be co-owners of the company, but that didn’t mean I answered to him. I never wanted to kick my own ass as much as I did right now for the so called rule we’d put into place to assure neither of us risked our company’s success over a female — or a male in Yuri’s case — but this was neither the time nor the place to get into a senseless shouting match.

Ignoring his directive, and, despite the fact that I still held an almost full mug, I said, “I’m going to get another round for everyone.”

I pushed my way through the crowd to reach the bar, in no real hurry to return to the tables my company had claimed. I could see a few dancers out on the crowded floor, gyrating in ways so far from the precise movements of classical ballet I had to grin. It was good to see smiles on their faces. These people deserved a night off. Yuri had worked their asses off and would continue to do so. He might be a pain in my ass, but the man was dedicated and demanded the very best of every dancer who crossed the threshold of our theater.

As I stood waiting to be served in a massive crowd fighting for a chance to order a drink, I sought out Clara again. She was talking with a few of the other dancers, talking and laughing in a way she hadn’t been able to do up until now. It made me happy and sad all at once. It really sucked that just when I’d decided to tell Yuri to go fuck himself and the stupid rule, I realized I couldn’t go anywhere near Clara without screwing up the friendships she was finally developing with her fellow ballerinas or ending the positive relationship she could have with my brother. I couldn’t fuck up the forming dynamic. Sleeping with the boss could damage the respect she had worked hard to gain up to this point.

But was I being unfair to us by forcing myself to keep my distance?

There was definitely something there. Something between us. A sizzling, intense chemistry, and a connection I couldn’t quite explain. Was I really wishing to push someone aside who could be the perfect woman for me? I’d never cowered to anyone before. Why

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