Come, Dance With Me

by Mary Middleton

  She blotted her lipstick and opened the door, turning left and walking along the corridor. After just a few steps she realised the air was humming with action. Then she heard raised voices and, instinctively knowing it concerned Andrei, she quickened her pace. Dread began to ferment in her belly and droplets of perspiration broke out on her forehead as Andrei’s voice echoed around the building.

  Sasha ran along the corridor, her tail feathers bouncing, breasts jiggling and her heels clicking quickly on the floor. At the corner she paused for breath, her eyes darting about the scene as she summed up the situation.

  A small crowd had gathered backstage where Andrei had backed her boss against the wall and was clutching a handful of pristine shirt front in his sizeable fist. He was leering into Mike’s face, his accent sounding more pronounced as he furiously accused him of things. Things that made Sasha’s blood run cold with shame and revulsion; the whole episode made all the more unbearable for it being so public. Sasha knew she was going to need all her resources.

  ‘Andrei! Stop it!’ She stepped from the cover of the wall and, as she did so, a murmur rippled through the onlookers. She glimpsed Terry and Viv, their faces pink with gleeful excitement, the team of set builders, coffee cups in hand peering from the back of the crowd. Catching sight of Sasha, Mike beseeched her over Andrei’s shoulder, his eyes begging silently for her to call off her hound. ‘Andrei,’ she repeated, ‘let him go. Now.’

  Andrei ignored her, if anything his grip tightened before he began to address Sasha without looking at her, his words all the more menacing for their softness.

  ‘I saw you with him, Sasha. How could you? He is old enough to be your father. I watched him smearing his oily hands all over you, pretending to comfort you. Is this decrepit old man really the reason you rejected me …again?’

  The watching crowd was lapping this up. Sasha set her jaw.

  ‘Andrei. You have it all wrong. Come to my dressing room so we can talk in private. Come on, before someone sends for security. Mike won’t take it further, will you, Mike?’

  Mike shook his head fervently. ‘No, no. I won’t mention it, not a word. No hard feelings, Andrei. Let’s forget all about it, huh?’

  Keeping his piercing eyes fixed on his prey, Andrei slowly loosened his hold and let Mike’s feet touch the floor again. After pulling his tie straight and tugging at his jacket Mike slid away, his face scarlet with indignation while Andrei slowly turned to where Sasha was waiting.

  Sasha closed the dressing room door and perched on the edge of the table before turning her face toward him, her arms folded about herself as if seeking comfort. Andrei looked shamefaced, miserable, his head was down, his chest still heaving with frustration.

  ‘What on earth made you do that?’

  He collapsed into a chair, ruffled his hair. Sasha tried not to admire his tanned biceps against the virgin whiteness of his shirt. He was so beautiful on the outside, so dark within, such a contrast of desire and loathing. It was safer not to look at him. She closed her eyes, turned her head away while she waited for him to explain.

  He got up again. ‘I couldn’t stand it. I want you, Ok? You keep turning me down, running out on me, scorning me, and it doesn’t make sense, Sasha, because when we dance and I hold you in my arms, I can feel your body silently screaming for me.’

  He was standing close, too close. She could see the passion quivering on his skin, the anger snapping in his eyes, the testosterone scent of his body swamping her.

  Oh, God, she thought, he can tell how I feel. Help me now, God, please. But out loud she said nothing, just shook her head, unable to look at him. He stepped closer, put a hand on her arm, his fingers fiery on her skin. ‘Just tell me why, Sasha. Before I go crazy.’

  She laughed. A short, sharp sound that was totally devoid of humour. ‘You just can’t take rejection, can you?’

  He stared at her for a long moment, his face impassive. ‘I guess not. For me, it’s a new experience. You are the first person ever to refuse me. I’d just like to know the real reason why.’

  She flapped her arms, the feathers on her skirt floating up in the air and settling slowly again. ‘I just don’t think it will work. How can we continue with the competition and expect to hold down a relationship at the same time. There would be too much between us.’

  He stepped forward, his body close. ‘There is already too much between us. I can’t spend every day with you, touching you, smelling your perfume, watching for your smile. I want you too much. You have got into my head …’ He rapped his skull with his sore knuckles … ‘I can’t stop remembering how it felt to make love to you.’

  His face was so close to hers that all she was aware of was his breath licking her cheek, his cologne filling her nostrils. An electric flare of desire zigzagged between them. She felt herself sway toward him. For what seemed like hours they stared into each other’s eyes, hovering on the brink of something huge and hot, as if they teetered on the edge of a volcano where, below them, the voluptuous, deadly lava heaved, drawing them into its heat.

  Chapter Six

  ‘Have you seen the papers?’ Lisa pulled a wry face as she slid the folded newspaper across the cafe table. ‘I warn you, Sasha, you aren’t going to like it.’

  Sasha frowned, smoothed out the front page and opened her eyes wide at the headline emblazoned across the top, stating the lie as if it were indisputable truth.

  Andrei Gets Sashy With It

  The accompanying image hit her like a smack in the face, reddening her cheeks. She looked in horror at herself dressed only in a skimpy costume, one hand upon Andrei’s naked chest, her knee raised across his pelvis, her body stretched backward, her sequined breasts prominent. He held his head high, as masterful as ever, with one hand placed possessively on her naked ribs, like a dog with a juicy bone, daring anyone to take her from him.

  Sasha hadn’t realised they looked like that. They were really hot, not like themselves at all. The photographer had captured every ounce of the lust that they had believed they kept carefully hidden. It seared across the page, burning between them and she knew that no matter how hard they denied it, after seeing this picture, nobody would ever now believe they were merely colleagues. Seeing clearly, for the first time, how they appeared when they were together, Sasha could scarcely believe herself that there was nothing between them.

  Her eyes swept down the page, her mouth falling open as she digested the slanderous report.

  ‘Oh, my God, Lisa. Mum and Dad will have read this …listen. ‘It has been hot gossip for sometime that Andrei Kovalevsky, Celebrity Dance’s Golden Boy has been getting it on with his partner in the competition, T.V. host, Sasha Johnson and we think this photograph confirms the rumours. It is only a few years since Andrei’s name was linked with another contestant, Conchita Marlais …’

  Sasha sat up. ‘Was it? I wasn’t aware of that …’ Her mind slid back to the photograph he had shown her. That photo album of his is a trophy cabinet, she fumed silently before ducking her head back to the article.

  ‘…the playboy ballroom champ is at it all over again. This time with a girl we’d all certainly like to get to know very much better.’ Oh, my God, who are these people? How do they get away with it? Don’t they realise we have families? We should sue the bloody filthy rag.’

  She crumpled the paper and threw herself back in her seat.

  Lisa pushed her coffee toward her. ‘Drink up,’ she said. ‘It’s getting cold.’

  Sasha picked up a spoon and stirred it sulkily. ‘It isn’t true, Lisa. None of it.’

  Lisa looked at her slyly. ‘You wish it was though, right?’

  Sasha didn’t reply for a long time. She really didn’t know the answer herself. After another mouthful of tepid coffee, she shook her head, her eyes shadowed with the tragedy of it all.

  ‘He isn’t right for me, Lisa. I’m not prepared to indulge in another fling and I won’t be his plaything. Look what happened last time.’

  Lisa
inhaled deeply, concerned that she give the best advice.

  ‘Maybe he’s grown up, since then, Sash. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, it seems to me it might be more than just a fling he is after.’

  Sasha jabbed a long red fingernail at the newspaper headline.

  ‘Look at what it says here; ‘It’s only a few years since Andrei was linked with another contestant.’ He makes a bloody habit of it! It’s common knowledge he was knocking off Celia Chernikova for years.’

  Lisa, a little taken aback by her friend’s irate response, dared to smile.

  ‘Sash, if the story about you and Andrei isn’t true, why do you believe what it says about Conchita? Maybe that is all lies as well, and the rumours about Celia.’

  ‘Celia is horrible. Every time I see her I can imagine them together …off the dance floor. I hate it.’

  A tear trickled down Sasha’s cheek and plopped onto her hand, she wiped it away, gulping, trying to prevent more from falling.

  ‘Hey.’ Lisa reached out, gave her a reassuring squeeze. ‘Don’t cry, not in here, you never know who is watching. Anyway, if you don’t fancy him, why do you care?’

  Sasha’s answering smile was wobbly, but she managed to blink her way through the moment of weakness.

  ‘I don’t know what to do, Lisa. I do like him, more than like him.’ She swallowed a lump in her throat, ‘the problem is keeping him at arms length when it isn’t really what I want at all. Oh, life is so bloody difficult sometimes!’

  ‘Sasha, you make it difficult for yourself. If I were you, I’d jump at the chance. You said he was fantastic last time. Can’t you just enjoy it for what it is? Maybe you should just shag him and get it over. It might make you feel better. Why does it have to be the real thing for you? Suppose that the ‘real thing’ never shows up?’

  ‘Trouble is, Lisa. I think Andrei is the real thing for me, but I know he doesn’t see me like that and I can’t bear to let him use me again. I don’t want to be just another of his conquests, another forgotten name on his list.’

  Lisa caught the attention of the waitress and ordered two mugs of hot chocolate.

  ‘…with squirty cream,’ she added, ‘lots of it. We need cheering up.’

  ‘Don’t we all, love.’ The waitress winked at her as she collected their dirty cups and shuffled back to her kitchen.

  While Sasha dried her eyes Lisa looked at her bowed head and was wondering how she could cheer her up when the door opened, the chiming bell grabbing her attention. She looked across the crowded café and her chin dropped.

  ‘Flippin’ ‘eck, Sash.’ Sasha raised her head. ‘Don’t look now, but the most terrific hunk just came in. Oh! Oh, my God, look out, he is coming this way. Shit …’ she glanced up again, her face falling in disappointed realisation. ‘… He is bloody well looking for you, isn’t he? I might have known.’

  A dark shadow fell across the table and Sasha looked up sulkily, expecting some autograph hunter or something but, suddenly, her crumpled, unhappy face blossomed with surprise.

  ‘Jack!’ she cried, leaping to her feet and into the stranger’s arms. Lisa watched, open-mouthed as his arms went around Sasha’s waist and squeezed tight. ‘What are you doing here?’ Sasha’s words came tumbling from her mouth, her conversation with Lisa forgotten.

  ‘I came early for Christmas. I couldn’t miss the Celebrity Dance final, not with my little sister sure to win it.’

  Realisation hit Lisa. This was the brother Sasha used to talk about all the time. He worked as a geologist in Columbia or somewhere. Lisa had imagined all geologists to be scholarly types with straggly beards, spectacles and chequered shirts. Sasha had forgotten to mention the fact that her brother Jack was a stunning specimen of the male species.

  The waitress appeared with the drinks and Lisa cleared her throat.

  ‘Ahem. I think we’d like another one please, Deirdre. Do you take cream and sugar, Jack?’

  Sasha pulled away from his arms and turned toward Lisa.

  ‘Oh, I am so sorry, Lisa, it was the excitement. Jack, this is my best friend, Lisa and, Lisa, this is my big brother, Jack.’

  She hung on to his bicep, smiling broadly, the trauma of her romance briefly pushed to one side.

  ‘So I gathered.’ Lisa smiled lustily at Jack as he eased his hunky body into the seat opposite and Sasha slid in beside him. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  When he smiled his straight, white teeth contrasted sharply with his tanned face. Lisa found she couldn’t tear her eyes away. He could do with a shave but the fact did nothing to detract from his good looks. Jack Johnson was every bit as beautiful as his sister but in a masculine sort of way. They reminded Lisa of a pair of dress up dolls s he’d had as a kid, long, lean and handsome, the pair of them.

  Briefly she wondered if it was wrong of her to fancy a man who looked so very much like her best friend but, after a moment or two, she decided she didn’t care if it was. He was gorgeous.

  Leaning one cheek on her hand, she began to absentmindedly spoon whipped cream into her mouth, watching the way his lips moved when he spoke, loving the timbre of this voice, the way he stirred his chocolate and licked the cream from the spoon, the way his tawny hair curled at the nape of his neck, the way he coughed. She sat up. The way he coughs? What on earth am I thinking?

  Jack glanced down at the paper. ‘What’s all this about then, Sasha?’

  Her face turned puce. ‘It’s nothing. Just the tabloids getting their rocks off, as usual.’

  Watching her fold the paper and shove it into her bag, Jack wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t forgotten the state she had got herself into when she’d found she was pregnant with Yana and, as soon as he’d learned who she’d been partnered with for the Celebrity Dance Competition, he’d wondered if she’d be able to handle it. He had read the report earlier and was pretty certain there was still something between her and Andrei and, if they wanted to keep it quiet, well, the scandal in the newspaper wouldn’t be helping much.

  ‘There’s nothing in it, then?’

  ‘Course not.’ She didn’t meet his eye, but darted her gaze about the café as if she expecting someone. Jack decided to leave well alone, for now.

  For more than an hour the conversation flashed, unhindered, about the table. The three of them laughed, gossiped and Lisa was delighted when Jack filled her in on all of Sasha’s most embarrassing childhood gaffs. It was nice to know her perfect friend had often strayed far from perfection in the past; it made Lisa feel better about her own failings …of which there were many.

  Sasha glanced at her watch, then checked it against the clock behind the counter. It was two o’clock.

  ‘Oh, my God, look at the time. Andrei will be livid.’

  She began to stuff her cardigan into her bag and shrugged into her coat. ‘Lisa will take care of you, Jack. I have to go, rehearsals, y’ know.’ She kissed his cheek, winked at Lisa.

  ‘See ya later, guys. Maybe we can do something tonight. I’ll ring you. Bye, Deirdre.’

  Lisa and Jack were left alone.

  ***

  Again, Sasha was late. She hadn’t meant to be. Time had just trickled away without her really noticing. She was so excited about Jack’s return home, it was brilliant that he would see her dancing on the show. Sasha was more determined than ever to get through to the final now. Stopping off at her dressing room, she changed into her dance tights, tweaked her hair and bit her lips to make them appear pinker. Then she flew along the corridor to where Andre was leaning patiently up against the mirrored wall, waiting.

  ‘You have excelled yourself, Sasha. Almost an hour late, you get better and better.’

  ‘I know. I’m so sorry. My brother is home unexpectedly. You remember I told you he works abroad so I rarely see him. I was so excited, I forgot the time.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Andrei’s response was non-committal. He switched on the music and began to guide her through the steps but Sasha, her mind full of Jack’s return, found it hard to concen
trate.

  ‘He said, he’d come to watch us in the final.’

  Andrei stopped. ‘I beg your pardon, who said that?’

  ‘Jack.’

  Her face was pink from the exertion of the dance, her hair beginning to tumble from its bands as usual. She put her hands on her hips, glad of the unscheduled rest, her chest rising and falling beneath her pink exercise vest. ‘He said, he was so sure we would go through that he didn’t want to miss the build up to the final, so he’s come home early for Christmas.’

  ‘Wonderful. Now, can we please concentrate on rehearsing?’

  Her warm fingers rested on his palm.

  ‘You would like him, Andrei. He is funny and clever. Much cleverer than me. I left him at the café with Lisa. It’s her afternoon off. I was wondering if …if you’d like to have dinner …with me and them …sometime.’

  His dark eyes gleamed, a smile lifting one corner of his mouth.

  ‘On a date, you mean?’

  ‘No. Not a date. Just a meal, with friends.’

  He continued with the dance, his other hand sliding around her waist, pulling her close. He looked along his nose, into her eyes, his breath kissing her face.

  ‘Maybe,’ he said, bending her abruptly backwards in the dance.

  Dinner was quickly arranged via mobile phone and they were to meet at seven thirty and, when rehearsal was over, Sasha hurried home, hoping Lisa wouldn’t still be hugging the shower. She opened the front door and almost fell over the threshold, startling Lisa who was in the sitting room painting her toenails, her hair in heated rollers.

  Sasha dropped her bag and disappeared into the bathroom and turned on the taps. There was nothing wrong with a meal between friends was there? She could handle that. Why then, ever since the idea had popped into her head and she’d heard herself issuing Andrei with an invitation, had she been convinced it was a very, very bad move?