by Laina Kenney
It was not his fault that he could never give her what she was searching for. Until the past few days, she hadn’t even known the elusive secret wish of her own heart. How could she blame Alyo for not sensing something she had never acknowledged? He was a gentleman right down to his talented toes.
When Alyo answered, his familiar accent and the bright sound of his voice took her back. She took a deep breath, and launched into her spiel, talking quickly over his exclamations of delight. After a moment he quieted and just listened to her. By the end of the conversation, he was adding ideas of his own to punch up the program.
Anja hung up the phone. Ellen’s impatience was palpable.
“Alyo will come,” Anja said. “He was going to drive, but I think I talked him out of that. Why spend most of a day sitting in a car when you could be moving?” She shook her head. She had never understood his obsessive love of shiny sports cars. “And he will give our program a spectacular finale by dancing with Genessa as the male lead to her swan piece.”
Ellen fanned herself and pretended to swoon. “Genessa will faint when you tell her that she’ll be dancing with Alyo. And then I’ll faint when that amazing man walks in the door.”
“No one had better faint,” Anja said. She might faint herself. She couldn’t quite believe that she had called Alyo in New York and he was coming to Michigan to help her. He said he would be arriving tomorrow evening and she had no idea where to put him for the next four days. And nights.
“Will you dance with him? You know he’s likely going to try to get back together with you and—” Ellen stopped to wiggle her eyebrows.
Anja laughed sadly.
“Yes, perhaps. But that is long over. We will dance the waltz and I will thank him very much for joining our fundraiser and that will be the end.”
“It’s only over for you, honey. I don’t think it’s over for him. Maybe if things don’t work out with Zenn, they could work this time with Alyo. I hate to think that you would spend your entire life alone just because one man is an idiot.”
Anja returned Ellen’s impulsive hug, but all she said was, “No.”
She understood that Ellen was a romantic at heart and she only wanted her friend to be happy, but it still hurt to think of any man but Zenn. It was too soon. And Alyo was firmly in the past, with or without Zenn Carder.
She still wanted Zenn more than she had ever wanted a man before. She was very much afraid that no matter how many men she dated, no man would measure up now that she had experienced Zenn.
Chapter 10
Zenn didn’t bother to look up when he heard the pounding on his office door. His staff knew better than to corner the lion in his den. And, he had to admit, he had been behaving very much like a beast the past two days without Anja.
The doorknob rattled and the door opened a fraction then Max’s startled voice cursed. He shoved past the heavy chair that had guaranteed Zenn’s privacy and slammed the door shut behind him.
“What the fuck?” he asked with a vivid gesture at the chair.
Zenn shrugged and continued staring blindly at the open file he had not been reading for the past hour.
“Man, you are in a bad way,” Max said, helping himself to a handful of corn chips from Zenn’s uneaten lunch. “How long have you been in here? Have you even showered this week?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Max snorted around the chips.
“Yeah, this looks fine to me. Shut up in your office on a gorgeous sunny afternoon while another man walks away with your gorgeous girl. That’s just like you.”
Zenn’s head snapped up.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
Max dropped into the armchair.
“Oh, now you’re interested?”
Zenn sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I might as well be. We both know you’re not going to leave until you say whatever you came to say. Just tell me.”
Max leaned forward. “Well, I heard the lovely dancer on the radio a few nights ago and when she announced her secret celebrity for the fundraiser I expected to hear your name.”
Zenn groaned and dropped his head on the desk. He felt like such an ass backing out of the fundraiser, but he couldn’t think of any way to spend time with Anja rehearsing their waltz without wanting to seduce her on every available surface. She burned in his blood like a drug.
“But instead, she started waxing poetic about some New York City dancer coming to save their show since their local celeb had been forced to cancel at the last minute. She didn’t mention your name, but her voice could have melted iron. She is some pissed with you.”
Zenn shook his head. He didn’t want to get into that with Max. The sick feeling in his gut was bad enough without adding the weight of Max’s opinion.
“So, I figured you two had a little lovers’ quarrel and you would have to grovel some, and then you’d patch it all up in time for the dance program just like in a Hollywood movie. And when I saw Anja in the shop and she placed a rush order for a glorious new leather outfit, I thought you had made up. Imagine my surprise when I asked if it should be kept a secret to surprise you.”
Zenn wanted to shake Max to make him get to the point faster, but that would only draw things out. With Max, it was always faster to just keep his mouth shut and wait, as much as it tortured him.
“Not curious yet? But it gets better.” Max was clearly enjoying himself in the role of storyteller.
“Just spit it out, for fuck’s sake,” Zenn said.
“She smiled nice as you please and told me it didn’t matter if you heard about it, since it wasn’t for you. And then I saw her head back outside, and a silver Corvette pulled up and the goddamned poster boy for toothpaste and hair products escorted her away. According to her studio manager, she used to live with him in New York City, and as soon as he heard she was in need”—the word came out in a slow drawl that made Zenn’s teeth clench—“he came running to help her out of a difficult spot and most likely to woo her back. Not that I’m surprised. A woman who looks like that must have a string of broken men littering her past. And her assistant thinks this new old guy is dreamy. She said that word and her smile made me think she’s been fantasizing about him during working hours.”
Max grabbed more chips and crunched happily.
Zenn’s mind was in turmoil and he blurted out the first words he thought.
“I left bruises on her. It really threw me.”
Max sat forward. “Yeah, I worked that much out. It had to be something to do with your ex and how she messed you up because otherwise you’re not given to pointless drama.”
Zenn sighed. “I messed up Catherine, too, Max. She was too young, too inexperienced for what I asked of her. It’s better for Anja if I stay away from her. She’ll be safer without me in her life.”
Max shook his head. “You know my opinion on that, so I won’t bore you with another round of ‘smarten-the-fuck-up.’ But I can see there’s something you haven’t thought of yet, so I’ll just throw it out there.”
He stopped when Zenn glared.
“Well, don’t shoot the messenger. It’s so obvious you’re going to want to kick yourself. You walked away from Catherine, and maybe that was for the best. But Anja isn’t a shy virgin who’s lived her entire sheltered life in the same little town. Any idiot can see that she’s a woman who knows her own mind. You’ve introduced her to an aspect of her character and her needs that she has never known and never explored before. She came from a tiny town in Russia that most Russians have never heard of and she worked her pretty ass off to conquer the New York City Ballet. So you have to ask yourself, if she is the type of woman to find something she wants and needs then back off just because the first try didn’t work out? Or is she going to keep trying until she gets it right?”
The thought hit Zenn like a fist to the face and he sat there stunned.
No, Anja wasn’t the type to back down. She stepped forward and put herself out there every day, ev
en when it was hard for her. She had accomplished what only a handful of select people had ever done in the world of classical dance, accepted her honors and then moved on to the next challenge. She had started her own business educating and training her students to an international level in small-town Michigan and experienced success because she demanded it of herself.
“She told me I was only apologizing to myself,” he said slowly. “She didn’t want my apology because she wasn’t sorry.”
Max nodded. “Uh-huh. Smart lady. So, the question really is, if Anja is going to explore the world of Dominance and submission anyway, even on the outskirts, do you want her to do that with someone else? Do you think that would be better for her or even for you? Or do you want to be the man guiding her and protecting her from all the other men out there who will take one look at those soft blue eyes and lose their minds in a split second just like you did?”
Zenn bared his teeth and Max smiled. He relaxed back into the chair with a smug grin on his face and Zenn couldn’t blame him. He was always right, the bastard.
“So why are you sitting here when you should be across the street groveling?”
Zenn stood then looked at his bare wrist. Where the hell was his watch? He tried to think back but didn’t know if he had even worn it this morning. Fuck, he was a mess.
“It’s four thirty,” Max supplied. “On Thursday.”
“Fuck, it’s Thursday. She won’t be across the street. She’ll be down at the old theater supervising rehearsal for the show tomorrow night. The kids are so amped up for this performance, that Anja spends half her time telling them to please stop chattering and pay attention.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
Zenn grimaced. He knew he needed to apologize ASAP but he didn’t want to grovel in front of probably a hundred little girls and their parents. The people in the town already knew far too much about his life courtesy of Catherine and her penchant for airing their dirty laundry on network television.
Max was watching him.
“If you’re worried about more bad publicity about your sex life,” Max said, “don’t even think about it. Half the town knows for sure and the other half will probably figure it out, but no one is going to run off at the mouth if you actually man up and make this work with her. I think you’ll find that other people will forgive you more easily than you forgive yourself.”
Max stood and clapped him on the shoulder.
“I never thought I’d see that look on your face again. You’re in love with her, you moron. That’s why the man we called Mr. Smooth is fucking it all up. I’m loving this, by the way.”
Zenn’s heart thumped and the blood rushed in his ears. He knew he was in love with Anja. It would be impossible to miss. She was more important to him than anything. But he had never told her. She didn’t know how he felt about her because he had protected himself by keeping the words inside. Christ, he was a moron.
“She’s perfect for you. And you’d be great for her, as long as you can manage to shed your fucking baggage and grab the chance that life is offering you. Of course, she’ll make you pay for being stupid first, but who could blame her?”
Max looked far too happy at the prospect.
Zenn groaned and pushed to his feet. She sure as hell would make him pay. She’d make him grovel and he would do it.
If he was lucky, she would accept his abject apology and give him another chance. He might as well start as he meant to go on. He had a feeling that Anja would call him on it if he screwed up again. If he was lucky, she’d still be giving him hell for random stupid things ten years down the road.
He was whistling when he walked out the door.
Chapter 11
He had started out happier than he had been in days, a man with a purpose, but by the time Zenn arrived at the old Harmony Theater he was seething. There were posters all over town advertising the fundraiser, and the name beside Anja’s was wrong because it wasn’t his. He didn’t recognize it, but it was obviously a Russian name. They would have that heritage in common as well as their love of dance, where Zenn could barely keep his feet moving in time when Anja counted aloud for him.
He walked straight past the group of ladies chatting in the main hall. When he walked into the darkened gallery and heard the music that was playing his heart dropped into his shoes.
The stage was lit with soft pink lights and Anja was dancing their waltz with another man. The tall blond bastard was so fucking smooth Zenn knew he didn’t have to look over his shoulder to try to check in some mirror if his body position was right the way Zenn did. He was so damned perfect even Zenn could see it, and he knew next to nothing about the technical side of dance.
Anja and the stranger moved and swayed together like gently flowing water. The stage lights glinted off his golden hair as he swirled and dipped Anja into her elegant flourish and stole a quick kiss while she was draped over his supporting arm.
Some of her older students including Genessa Smith occupied the first row, and they clapped and cheered for their teacher. Zenn saw Anja’s smile and heard her soft laughter and his blood started a slow smolder.
He started down the aisle. If that blond sonofabitch thought he could just walk in to save the day and walk away with the girl at the end of the night, he was wrong. So fucking wrong.
Zenn wanted nothing more than to smash the bastard’s face in and throw Anja over his shoulder, but he reined himself in with an effort. She wouldn’t thank him for acting like a caveman in front of all her students and their parents. He might behave like a primitive sometimes, but he could manage to keep his fists to himself.
If the bastard kept his mouth shut, Zenn might even be able to be nice about stealing Anja out from under his nose, but if he tried to interfere he was in for a nasty shock. Football players didn’t play by the same rules of nice as fancy male ballet dancers.
The students had dispersed by the time he arrived center stage. The look of shock on Anja’s face did nothing to improve his mood. Her puzzled little frown made it look like she had never expected to see him again and couldn’t figure out if she was happy about it or not.
He shifted and held out his hand, willing her to take it. A big part of him wanted to command her obedience, but he felt he had lost that right. She would have to give it back to him first, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. He wanted her forgiveness, but he wanted so much more that it scared the hell out of him that he might not get it. He might have lost the opportunity to find out if what they had could last. He hadn’t known until that moment how much he wanted his whole life to center on one petite dancer and it shook him to his soul.
She just looked at him without moving and her face gave nothing away.
Zenn had a brainwave.
“Would you like to dance? They’re playing our song,” Zenn said and Anja stepped forward.
“Excuse me. We are in the middle of rehearsal,” the other man said in perfect English. “You are wearing street shoes. Please leave the stage.”
Zenn’s instincts were screaming at him to grab Anja and make a quick getaway, but he smiled. Or maybe it was more like baring his teeth, but he was making an effort to be pleasant, goddammit.
“I’m asking the lady to dance.” If the words sounded forced, then at least he was still speaking and not brawling yet.
The blond man tilted his head and the motion gave the impression that he was looking down his long nose at Zenn, even though they were close to the same height.
“As you can see, the lady is busy. Perhaps you should make an appointment with her manager if your request is urgent. Ellen is out in the lobby.”
Zenn grappled for his diminishing control and relaxed his fingers out of fists. He didn’t want to start a fight over Anja. No, he did want to start a fight, but he wasn’t going to do it. Only because he suspected it wouldn’t win him any points with his sweet little dancer. He needed to win Anja back after his own brainless behavior, and knocking out the competition sou
nded like a great idea to his stupid hormones. Everything about her made him react like a teenager.
He reached deep for control and turned to Anja. “Do I need to make an appointment to speak with you?” he asked softly. It grated on his nerves, but if she wanted to humble him, he would stand down and take it. He would do anything to show her that his whole outlook had changed. She could demand any damned thing she wanted from him and he would break his back to deliver. He deserved that and more from her.
She didn’t say anything for a moment and his heart stopped.
“No appointment is necessary. Come with me.”
The Russian dancer grabbed her arm but before Zenn could do anything she shrugged him off with an elegant twist.
“Take five, Alyo,” she said sharply and gestured for Zenn to follow her.
There was a spate of angry Russian behind them, but Anja ignored it and so did Zenn.
She led him through a maze of dark, narrow corridors and up a set of ringing metal steps with no railing into a dressing room that, although it was clean, had seen better days.
She turned to him and crossed her arms over her breasts. She held herself so tightly that her small breasts plumped up over the top of her laced bodice.
“Well?”
Zenn cleared his throat. Now that he had his chosen audience, he didn’t know where to start. Every clever word of the apology he had come up with in his head fell into dust at the sight of her beautiful face. Her posture closed off and not encouraging, her mouth was tight, but her eyes on him were soft. Hopeful?
“Anja, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so damned sorry.”
She threw up her hands.
“Not this. Not sorry. I will not hear this again. You interrupt rehearsal and you give me only another apology I do not want. I will not listen to this!”
Zenn stepped back to block the door until his mind could start working again. She short-circuited his brain every damned time. That was his whole problem. The sight of her, the sweet smell of her skin, awakened his primal senses and shut down his reasoning until he was drunk on her presence.