Our First Dance

by Judy Lynn Hubbard

  * * *

  A short while later, the lights suddenly dimmed and the audience sat forward expectantly, like children waiting for a treat. Soft strands of music began playing, and slowly the dancers materialized on the stage in preparation for the start of the ballet.

  From the wings, Damien jealously watched Dennis dancing seductively with his Natasha. For the first time in a long time, he wished he was still performing. He would give anything to be the one out there now with her. She was so beautiful, perfect, and she was dancing like an angel, flawless, graceful, enthusiastic and with a myriad of emotions. She brought his passion to life as no other dancer could.

  He glanced at the audience, who seemed enthralled, before returning his attention to Natasha. A smile lit up his face and remained there throughout the entirety of her performance. After the first act, the curtain closed to exuberant applause. Natasha and Dennis broke apart, and she ran offstage into Damien’s waiting arms.

  “You were fabulous!” He swung her around in a circle.

  “Was I, really?”

  “Perfect.” He kissed her cheek and placed his arms around her waist.

  He walked her to her dressing room. No sooner had the door closed than his body trapped hers against it and he kissed her achingly. His hands ran down her trembling body and hers slid underneath his jacket, pressing into his back as passion grew within them to the point of explosion.

  “Tasha,” he rasped against her ear before biting into her lobe.

  “Damien, I adore you,” she urgently whispered before reluctantly stepping away from him.

  “Come back here.” He decisively reached for her, but she evaded him.

  “I have to get ready for the next act.” She removed her headdress.

  “Sure you don’t need any help undressing?” He purposefully walked toward her, hands moving to her shoulders, pulling her top down her arms.

  “I would love it, but we would be very late for the next act, if I accepted.” She repositioned her top and wisely opened the door.

  He leaned over and whispered for her ears only, “We will finish this to both our satisfaction later.”

  “Promise?” Her eyes gleamed.

  “Oh, yes, I guarantee it,” he groaned.

  She smiled and blew him a kiss as he reluctantly left. With much effort, she tore her thoughts away from Damien and quickly put on her next costume—this one black and white.

  Soon she was back onstage, with Damien watching from the wings. All too soon, the last act arrived, and Natasha was dressed in a wispy, ankle-length white sleeveless creation that flowed around her when she moved. Her hair was completely covered by her white feather headdress, and she was absolutely stunning.

  This was the fast-paced, acrobatic part of the ballet. Damien’s heart stuck in his throat as Natasha made a flying leap and he prayed Dennis would catch her, which of course he did flawlessly. He was in awe just watching her. She was magnificent, perfect—everything he could have asked for and more. God, how he loved her! He couldn’t wait to tell her, and he would tonight.

  He glanced out at the audience, who was as enthralled by Natasha as he was. A smile lit up his face. She would be in demand after this stunning performance; he was so happy for her that he could hardly contain himself.

  The remainder of the ballet flew by until finally the audience sat in silent awe and dismay that it was over. Then they broke out to thunderous applause.

  When the curtains opened again, Dennis and Natasha occupied the stage alone, holding hands. Natasha and Dennis lost count of the curtain calls they made. The secondary characters were sent onstage to take their bows, and then Damien and Rachel faced the standing audience’s claps and cheers with bright smiles. Then Natasha came back with Damien, who presented her with a huge bouquet of white roses and kissed her cheeks before leaving her alone onstage to take her solo bows.

  She had waited forever to experience this feeling and now that it was here, she longed for Damien to be beside her. She glanced at him as he stood in the wings proudly smiling at her, and nothing had ever felt so perfect in her entire life.

  Chapter 15

  Unfortunately, Natasha and Damien had to wait much longer than they hoped until they could be alone because an after-ballet party was being held in Damien’s penthouse. He had invited the entire cast and crew and their families. The penthouse was huge, comprising the entire top floor of the building, yet there were wall-to-wall people.

  A long buffet table with everything imaginable lined one side of a wall. Music played in the background and people danced on one side of the room, or where they stood. Everyone was laughing, happy and having a wonderful time.

  “Tash, you were wonderful.” Nicole enfolded her in a hug, followed by her parents.

  “Thank you. Dancing the lead is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “The best?” her mother teased.

  “Well—” Natasha’s eyes sought out Damien’s across the room “—maybe second best.”

  “So Damien is more than a friend,” her mother teased. “Isn’t he?”

  “Yes, Mom, he is, but we want to keep our relationship to ourselves for a little while.”

  “We understand, sweetheart.” Lincoln kissed her cheek. “Just be happy.”

  “I am, very.” Natasha smiled.

  “Excuse me, everyone. May I steal Natasha away for a few minutes?” Damien placed a possessive arm around Natasha’s waist.

  “Of course you may,” Linda approved.

  Natasha allowed herself to be led away to the dance floor, where Damien pulled her into his arms. She closed her eyes as they barely moved to the soft music. She felt his hand tighten on her waist before his fingers slid caressingly up and down her spine. She sighed in contentment, pulling slightly back to stare into his handsome face.

  “It has been a wonderful night,” she purred.

  “Yes, it has, and it will only get better,” he promised. “I only wish…”

  “What?” She moved closer. “What do you wish?”

  “I wish everyone would disappear so that we could be alone.”

  “So do I,” she groaned. “When are they going to go home?”

  “They just got here,” he ruefully reminded.

  “They did, didn’t they?” she softly yet urgently groaned.

  “I know.” Despite the crowd, he kissed her lightly. “Tasha, before I forget to tell you, I want you to know that you made the premiere a personal success for me tonight.”

  “We made it a success,” she corrected. “We’re very good together.”

  “The best.” He smiled.

  “The best,” she echoed.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

  “Thank you.” She pressed closer to him. “And you are very handsome. You look so good in that tuxedo.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He smiled.

  “Mmm-hmm.” She kissed his cheek.

  “I want to kiss you.” Hungry eyes locked on her mouth. “Really kiss you.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  He glanced around. “We have a houseful of people.”

  “So.” She moved closer.

  “The entire troupe is here, and we have to maintain our cover, remember?”

  She sighed. “I forgot. When are they going to leave?”

  He laughed. “Not for hours yet, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh, God,” she moaned in agony. “May time fly by on wings,” Natasha prayed.

  “Amen,” Damien agreed and twirled her across the room. “Hey, we’ve been doing this for months. A few more hours won’t kill us.”

  She smiled wryly. “Wanna bet?”

  “We’ll survive.” He fought the urge to pull her closer. “And when they leave, the fu
n really starts, but until then…” he suddenly released her a few feet away from the locked balcony. “Wait two minutes and meet me outside.”

  She laughed. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He chuckled before unlocking the balcony doors and disappearing inside.

  “Damien,” she whispered to his retreating back. A smile flirted about her lips as she glanced at the clock. “What do you have planned?”

  * * *

  One minute before midnight, Marcy strategically positioned herself next to Nathan. She reached him just as the group countdown reached zero and white and black balloons, along with colorful streamers, miraculously began raining down on them.

  “Happy New Year, Nathan.” She could tell her voice startled him as he turned around to face her.

  “Happy New Year, Marcy,” he echoed.

  Lord, she was gorgeous. Why did she have to be so damned beautiful, and why did he have to meet her now? More important, why did he have to be so attracted to her, when he knew there was no way he could act on that attraction?

  Instinctively Marcy knew he was about to shake her hand. She shook her head and placed possessive hands on his broad shoulders.

  “It’s customary to seal that wish with a kiss,” she reminded, and before he could react, she pressed her mouth to his.

  He told himself it was only going to be a light kiss; however, once his mouth touched hers and those soft, honeyed folds parted so quickly, so easily, he couldn’t help diving in. Her lips were quicksand, and he was drowning in them. The hands on her waist pulled her a little closer. One hand moved up to entangle in her luxuriously thick, soft hair, as he had longed to do since meeting her, and he decided to let himself go a little deeper—for a little while longer.

  When long minutes later he pushed her slightly away, she was weakly clinging to his lapels, eyes wide with wonder and longing. He reminded himself he couldn’t afford any entanglements emotionally, especially not now; Marcy Johnson could quickly become that—if he let her, which was something he must not do.

  * * *

  Natasha snuck out to the heated balcony as Damien had instructed. The glass doors and windows were covered with curtains, affording them complete privacy.

  “Right on time.” Damien smiled and handed her a flute of champagne before pulling her into his arms.

  “On time for what, Mr. Johnson?” Natasha laughed.

  “We’re ringing in the new year alone without prying eyes watching our every move.” Damien kissed her neck lingeringly.

  “Oh, I like the sound of that.” She wound her free arm around his neck.

  “I thought you might.” Damien clinked his flute with hers as the crowd inside could be heard counting down from ten. “Happy New Year, Tasha.”

  “Happy New Year, Damien.”

  She pretended to sip her champagne to seal the toast and gladly relinquished her glass to Damien, who deposited them both on a nearby table before pulling her completely into his arms.

  His mouth slowly lowered toward hers. They both made the slight movement that had their lips caressing. Natasha stood on her tiptoes to reach his mouth, which played with hers softly for a few moments until the control they had exerted all evening snapped and they both surrendered to heaven.

  Natasha wound her arms around his neck. The hands on her waist lifted her effortlessly off the floor, bringing her delectable lip closer to his. Their mouths feasted as if devouring a long-denied banquet of life-sustaining food. She moaned against his lips and opened her mouth wider beneath the insistent, wonderful pressure of his.

  They tilted their heads to the right and to the left, trying to taste as much of each other as possible from every vantage point possible. He held her effortlessly against his hard body. Her feet dangled in the air. Her arms tightened around his neck when his piercing tongue danced a fierce ballet with hers before stroking the roof of her mouth maddeningly. She moaned in ecstasy, letting him know she would do anything he asked and silently prayed he would ask for everything she had to give. Time was suspended as they savored their private moment for as long as they could.

  * * *

  It was the wee hours of the morning, nearly daybreak, before the party broke up and Natasha and Damien were finally alone. The penthouse was a mess neither of them wanted to face, so they had gone outside in their formal wear to frolic in the freshly fallen snow; a short while later, they returned to the penthouse giggling, damp and happy.

  “Whose idea was it to have a snowball fight in twenty-five degree weather?” Natasha asked, taking off her coat and hat.

  “Yours,” Damien reminded as he divested himself of his jacket.

  “Well, I’m paying the price for my impulsiveness now,” she promised. “I’m frozen!” She slowly peeled her ice-covered gloves from rigid fingers.

  “I know how to cure that.” Damien took her cold hand and led her into the bedroom, and then into the bathroom where he proceeded to undress himself and then her.

  A few minutes later, they were enfolded by steamy, hot water while reclining at opposite ends of the oblong sunken bathtub. Natasha slid down until the water pooled around her neck, and she sighed in contentment.

  “Warm enough now?”

  “Almost.” She sat up and floated in his direction until she was straddling him.

  “What do you have in mind?” he unnecessarily asked, his hands running down her water-slicked skin, feeling her tremor expectantly at his touch.

  “This,” she whispered, slipping him inside her, shuddering at the blast of heat melting into heat.

  “Tasha,” he groaned, pulling her close, engulfing her mouth with his.

  He released her mouth long seconds later to trail his tongue across her neck and shoulders before focusing on her luscious breasts. Their bodies continued to generate heat comparable to that of the hot water that lapped caressingly around them.

  “I love you,” she whispered and sought his mouth again, cutting off his confession to the same as passion quickly overwhelmed them both.

  * * *

  Later, lying close in bed, toasty warmth enveloped Natasha’s body and heart. She sighed contentedly. This was heaven; she had everything she needed in Damien’s arms.

  “Tasha?” Damien whispered in her ear, arm tightening around her waist.

  “Hmm?” She pressed her back into his stomach.

  “I love you.”

  She gasped, turned around and stared into his serious eyes. “What did you say?”

  He smiled at her tenderly. “I love you.”

  She laughed joyously. “What took you so long to say it?”

  “I was waiting for the right moment.”

  “And this is it?”

  “Yes, it feels right to tell you now.” He kissed her softly before pulling back to confess, “I had the entire event planned out. I wanted to give you candlelight, roses and champagne…”

  “This is perfect.”

  “Yeah?” He grinned.

  “Oh, yes.” She returned his smile.

  Their lips gravitated together again and they kissed long and deep. Before things got out of hand, she pulled away slightly and placed a staying hand on his chest.

  “I have something to tell you too.”

  “Tell me later.”

  She sat up and evaded his lips and arms. “I need to tell you now.”

  “Okay.” He propped his back against the pillows, enjoying the view of her naked flesh. “What is it?”

  “Damien—” she bit her lower lip “—I don’t want you to think…”

  “What?” At her serious expression, he sat up to face her. “Tasha, you’re scaring me.”

  “I’m sorry.” She ran fingers through her hair. “I don’t mean to.”

  “Baby, just say it.” He took her ha
nd comfortingly. “It’ll be all right.”

  “Okay.” She inhaled and exhaled loudly before softly confessing, “Babe…I’m pregnant.”

  He was silent for several deafening seconds. His mouth dropped open in shock. She held her breath, waiting for him to say something, anything.

  “What?” he whispered.

  “I’m going to have our baby,” she rephrased.

  He let out a scream of joy and pulled her close. She exhaled loudly, relaxed instantly and returned his embrace. A radiant smile lit up her face.

  “Are you serious?” He pulled back to stare at her.

  “Yes.” She smiled. “Are you happy?”

  “Happy?” He shook his head. “No. I’m ecstatic! But how? I thought you were on the pill?”

  “I was—I mean I am.” She shook her head. “Believe me, I’m shocked too. The only thing I can figure out is that I was late taking my pill the day we first made love. I know that sounds lame, but…”

  “Tasha, I believe you, and anyway, all that matters is that you’re pregnant.” He smiled.

  “Really?” At his positive nod, she cupped his face. “I’m so relieved.”

  He frowned. “Did you think I wouldn’t be happy?”

  “After you told me about Mia, I was afraid…”

  “Tasha, you are nothing like her—you are the love of my life who has given me life and who’s going to have our child. I love you with everything I have, and I never want to be parted from you.”

  “Oh, Damien.” She pressed her mouth to his for long seconds.

  “How do you feel about the baby?”

  “I’m so happy.” Tears swam in her eyes.

  “Really?” He watched her closely. “Even though you’ll have to put dancing on hold in the near future until after the baby is born?”

  “Yes. I won’t lie to you. That thought terrified me for a short time, which is why I was such a pain a few weeks ago. But, Damien, I love you and our child,” she wanted him to know. “Life is full of give and take. You gain something precious and you risk losing something you value, but I’m looking at this as a temporary setback. I can always return to dancing after the baby is born.”