of my neck standing up. It wasn’t even the fact her fingers were twisting together and she was looking toward the wings of the stage, or toward the exits… or anywhere other than at me. The thing absolutely killing me was that she looked terrified standing on the same stage where we’d first had sex.
“What the fuck is going on?” I asked, no longer concerned about waiting until we were in the privacy of my office.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she said far too fast to be even slightly convincing.
I hadn’t asked if anything was wrong, but her answer confirmed something was definitely wrong. “Bullshit,” I said, moving swiftly down the aisle toward her and trying not to cringe as she instantly moved backward. Halting, I looked up at her. “Clara, talk to me.”
“I-I have to go,” she said, turning on her heel and running toward the wing.
Shock had me frozen for an instant before I said, “Fuck,” and made my own move… not toward the stage, but to the place I was sure she was fleeing. By the time she pushed out the side door, I was ready and reached out and grabbed her arm. The piercing scream almost had me releasing her, but the pure panic on her face had me tightening my hold.
“Let me go,” she demanded.
“Not happening,” I said, pulling the door open again.
“Please, I… I can’t be late,” she said. “I’ll… I’ll call you later, but you have to let me go.”
Looking down at her, every alarm bell I had was pinging through my body. Something wasn’t wrong, something was bad enough to have one of the strongest women I’d ever met shaking like a leaf and looking as if she was going to either pass out, throw up, or die on the spot.
“Clara,” I said softly, reaching out to touch her face only to watch her recoil before realizing I wasn’t going to strike her.
My blood boiled at her reaction. There was just one thing I could think of that would have her reacting like this, and his name was Nikolai Kosloff.
“What did that bastard do?” I demanded.
“Who? I-I don’t know what you’re—”
“Don’t,” I said sharply. “You can tell me to fuck off once we’re done, but not until you explain what the hell is going on.”
Her mouth opened and closed as if she couldn’t decide what to say, what to confess or what to attempt to keep hidden.
“And don’t even think about lying to me,” I added, stepping back inside and pulling her along beside me. I gave a glance out to the parking lot, not exactly sure what I was looking for but certain I’d recognize it if I saw it. Seeing nothing but a few dancers moving to their cars, I pulled the door closed behind us.
“Alek, please…”
She didn’t continue but I felt her plea course through me as my gaze tracked a single tear as it slid down her cheek, my eyes locking on what appeared at first to be a smudge of dirt on the side of her neck and yet I realized it was a bruise. A bruise that looked suspiciously like a fingerprint.
“Ah, fuck,” I said, wrapping my arms around her and holding her close. Leaning down, I brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, gently running my fingertip over the darker spot, seeing a few fainter ones as well. “He hurt you.”
She didn’t respond, but I knew the truth… but had to ask. “Is this… is he what you want?”
Finally, a bit of the Clara I remembered appeared, her eyes widening and a fire flaring if only long enough for her to shake her head.
Relieved, I nodded and pulled her closer. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. I told you I’m here for you no matter what, and I meant it.” I dropped a kiss on top of her head before continuing, “But I can’t help you if you won’t let me in. I’m asking you to trust me, Clara. Let me help you.”
“You can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t… I won’t let you…”
“Let me what?” I asked, sure even she didn’t believe the words she was saying. “Let me in? Let me help you? Let me care about you? Let me…”
“Be hurt,” she blurted out, slapping a hand over her mouth with the realization of what she’d said.
The son of a bitch! He was using Clara’s caring for me as a weapon against her. “Where is he?”
“Who?”
“I’m not going to play this game,