“So you finally remembered me?” Shelia said when he stopped by her side.
“How could I forget you?” Damien’s suddenly bored eyes drifted over his date’s angry countenance.
“I don’t appreciate being abandoned for Bambi,” Shelia made her displeasure known.
His eyes narrowed. “First of all, this party is for Natasha, not you. Secondly, you don’t now nor will you ever own me. I do what I want when I want. Thirdly, if you’re not having a good time, no one’s forcing you to stay.”
“Damien.” She grabbed his arm as he turned to walk away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I was all alone.”
“I’m sure you weren’t traumatized for the few minutes I attended to the guest of honor.”
“Don’t be too sure.” She placed a hand on his chest and pressed close. “Now that you’ve done your duty, why don’t we get out of here and go back to my place?”
“Maybe later. I still have a lot of mingling to do.” He disentangled his arm from her fingers. “Are you coming, or do you want me to have a car take you home?”
His demeanor made it crystal clear he was fine with whichever option she chose. Shelia was a readily available date when he needed one. She wasn’t the type of woman he could ever be serious about, which he supposed was her appeal. She had used some of his contacts in entertainment to further her career. In fact, he had gotten her the audition for her current job, so she couldn’t complain about their casual on-call arrangement.
“I’m coming with you.” She walked over and linked her arm through his.
“Suit yourself,” he said and shrugged.
As they walked toward the buffet tables, his eyes automatically scanned the immense crowd for Natasha—the woman he really wanted at his side for the remainder of the party.
* * *
“Congratulations, Natasha.”
“Thanks, Rachel.” Natasha scanned the crowd. “Have you seen Dennis?”
“A few minutes ago. I think he was heading toward the buffet.”
“I should go find him.”
“He’ll keep for a minute.” Rachel placed a halting hand on her arm. “You and Damien looked good together on the dance floor.”
“He was just being polite.”
“I doubt that.” Rachel laughed. “There’s no law against you two dancing.”
“I know, but his date didn’t seem too happy about it.”
“Shelia?” Rachel shrugged dismissively. “She’s overly melodramatic. I think it stems from her acting career.”
“You don’t sound like you like her.”
“Oh, she’s all right.”
“Why didn’t you come with Damien tonight?”
Rachel smiled. “Damien and I are good friends. We don’t date each other.”
“Have you ever?” Natasha didn’t know why she was feeling so bold, but she couldn’t seem to stop the questions from exiting her mouth.
“No.” At Natasha’s obvious interest, Rachel decided to elaborate. “We met about eleven years ago when I was choreographing a ballet he was dancing in. We hit it off and have been friends ever since.”
“Oh.” Natasha smiled brightly. “That’s nice.”
“That information pleases you.”
“No, not at all.” Natasha quickly denied. “I just…”
“Are you interested in Damien?”
“Damien has a no-dating policy for his troupe,” Natasha sidestepped her question. “I had to assure him tonight Dennis and I are just friends.”
“Really?” Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“His concern was professional, of course,” Natasha quickly added.
“Of course.” Rachel didn’t look convinced. “But you still didn’t answer my question—are you interested in Damien romantically?”
Natasha chose her words carefully. “Rachel, I like Damien. He’s been kind to me. But I’ve worked too long and too hard for this opportunity to jeopardize it.”
“All that’s true, but…”
“There you are.” Dennis touched Natasha’s arm. “I was beginning to feel ditched.”
Natasha could have kissed him for interrupting Rachel’s inquisition. She was quickly running out of ways to deny that she did have inappropriate feelings for Damien.
“I’m sorry.” Natasha took his hand. “I promise to be a perfect, attentive date for the remainder of the evening.”
“I’m going to hold you to that one.” He pulled her toward the dance floor. “Excuse us, Rachel?”
“Of course. Have fun.”
Rachel watched the two leave with mixed emotions. Natasha appeared to be honest and focused on her career, but she also was interested in Damien. She couldn’t blame her, but she had no intention of standing idly by again the way she had ten years ago while Damien got hurt. She intended to keep an eye on Natasha, just in case she wasn’t what she appeared to be.
* * *
As Natasha danced with Dennis, she found herself wishing she was being held in Damien’s strong arms again. Of their own volition, her seeking eyes found Damien, who stood several feet away with Shelia close by his side. Natasha suppressed a shudder as Damien’s intense gaze held hers for several moments before Dennis innocently led her away. She steeled herself not to seek out Damien’s gaze again, but she felt his burning eyes on her several times through the remainder of the evening, though he never physically sought her out, much to her dismay.
It was the best night of her life; it was also the most revealing, because seeing Damien with another woman made her realize that despite her good intentions, despite the inappropriateness of it, despite the innumerable reasons why she shouldn’t, she was developing feelings for her boss—feelings that she silently vowed to keep in check, somehow.
Chapter 4
The next morning at 4:00 a.m. Natasha walked into work, stifling a yawn behind her hand. After a night of merriment, she had somehow dragged herself out of bed at her usual time. She performed her morning workout and, humming music from the ballet, entered the rehearsal hall promptly at 5:30 sharp. Once rehearsal began, however, she quickly realized this was going to be a long, difficult day.
“No, no, no!” Damien shot out of his chair and walked toward the stage and quickly up the steps. “Natasha, what are you doing?”
“I’m dancing.”
“Is that what you called it?” An eyebrow rose mockingly as he reached her side.
She bristled at his insult, even though it was justified. She wasn’t at her best today; her mind had been wandering to the wonderful party last night.
“I’m…” His angry look cut her words short.
“This is the passionate part of the dance, and you’re not doing it right. You’re not crisp enough! You’re being stilted, careless and cold!” He screamed the words at her.
“I’m sorry.” His criticism stung all the more because it was warranted.