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Rage rolled through me. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  She shook her head, not answering. But I knew, even as I’d asked the question, I’d known.

  She hadn’t wanted Isabel to know.

  “You chose to dance,” I said quietly.

  “Yes.” She licked her lips once more, a habit born of nerves I suspected.

  “I was told I’d have the weekend to be brought up to speed, then I’d perform on Sunday for the first time.” She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “Ballet isn’t exactly what you expect to see when one goes to a strip club. I’ve studied jazz and tap to some extent as well, but…well. What they expected of me was different from anything else I’d ever done. I was taken to a studio where a teacher waited for me.” She swallowed, then looked back at me. “That teacher was Nadia Burov.”

  Involuntarily, I tightened the hand on her ankle. The fragile feel of her bones had me easing back.

  “Your teacher is involved with the Castellanos clubs?”

  She nodded, looking away.

  Well, that explained how Nadia had known what was going on with Daria when she hadn’t come back as planned.

  “Why do you even stay here then?” I asked, unable to keep that question quiet. “Isabel’s brother kidnapped you and forced you to dance, and your ballet instructor is somehow involved in the whole thing. Why stay?”

  Why did you leave me?

  But I kept that question tucked away.

  “It wasn’t Isabel’s fault, what happened,” Daria said, shaking her head. “I’m safe with her. Not that I plan on attending another strip club with her or anything.”

  Again her hesitation. I could tell my questioning was gutting her, yet I had to know.

  “She’s already proven she’s not going to sell me out to her brothers or her father. As far as Burov…” She closed her eyes and rested her head on her knees. “I’m here on an education visa. If I’m not going to school, I’ll be deported. There’s nothing for me in Russia anymore.”

  “You’re not going to be deported,” I told her, stroking my thumb along her calf. “Come here.”

  She came to me, and I wrapped her in my arms. “I’ll take care of you,” I said quietly, staring up at the ceiling. “The Castellanos won’t bother you, and I won’t let you get deported.”

  She laughed weakly. “It may not be up to you, Brooks.”

  I stroked a hand up and down her back. “It will be okay, baby. Trust me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Daria

  I had to leave the hotel early the next morning so I could go by the apartment I still shared with Isabel—and now, Sean. She was gathering up her things when I rushed through the door, and a wide grin lit her face.

  “Well, well, well…” She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Look at you.”

  I blushed hotly.

  “You spent the night with Brooks, didn’t you?” she asked with a sly grin.

  I nodded as I hurried into my room, hoping she wouldn’t follow. But she did, closing the door behind her.

  I stripped out of my clothes and hopped into the shower to wash off. I kept my head out of the spray, knowing I didn’t have time to wash and dry my hair. I was pushing it as it was.

  Isabel was sitting on my bed when I came out, wrapped in a towel. I rolled my eyes at her.

  She just grinned even wider. “Come on. Spill.”

  “About what?” I asked, rummaging through my drawer for a clean leotard and tights. I needed to do my laundry.

  “You can’t just leave me hanging here…not with me knowing you spent the night with Brooks. That’s like…well, it’s more than a couple of nights you two have spent together now. From what I’ve heard about him, anything more than two dates is a record.”

  “We haven’t even gone on one date,” I pointed out. I didn’t think the meals we’d shared together when he’d been hiding me from Duardo really counted as dates.

  “No! You’ve spent the night, Daria, Brooks doesn’t do that.”

  “How do you know?” I asked, annoyed.

  She shrugged. “I hear things. So, are you two serious?”

  I put on my tights, focusing on that task much more than I needed to, struggling to come up with an answer.

  I knew I had feelings for Brooks that I shouldn’t have. The question was, did he have feelings for me?

  “I don’t know, Iz,” I finally said. “I just don’t know.”

  “You’re falling for him.”

  I couldn’t lie, so I just looked up at her and nodded.

  She squealed. “And I just know he’s falling for you. Even those manwhores can take the fall from time to time. Just think, if the two of you get together, we’d be like family!”

  “I can’t even contemplate that,” I said, shaking my head. I grabbed my leotard and wiggled into it, topping it off with a short denim skirt and sliding my feet into a pair of flats. “Let’s go. We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

  Isabel continued to wax on about Brooks and me. I tried not to let myself get carried away by her animated chatter. Deep inside, I thought Brooks did care for me, in a way.

  But I didn’t see him ready to tie himself down. Especially not with me.

  And I had to be honest…as much as I cared for him, I wasn’t interested in being tied down to somebody who openly admitted he was involved in the mob.

  “Shoulders back, Daria,” Burov snapped.

  I gritted my teeth and did as instructed, although if I pulled my shoulders back much more, I just might dislocate something.

  I could no longer call her Madame.

  Outside of class, I avoided her, taking great pains to be anywhere but where she was. I’d even stopped using the restrooms at the school for fear she might walk in.

  I couldn’t be outright rude to her. She was petty enough to make me regret it, but I was also having a hard time being polite to her.

  As Burov walked on down the line, calling out instructions, Isabel mocked her in a low voice. “Shoulders back, Daria,” she said in a voice so low, I barely heard her.

  I did, though, and so did Gloria, the dancer behind her. I heard Gloria’s faint snicker and closed my eyes, hoping Burov hadn’t heard.

  But of course, she did.

  I could see her walking toward me in the reflection of the mirror. Doggedly, I kept my gaze on the back of the head of the woman in front of me.

  “Did you say something, Daria?” she demanded.

  “No, ma’am,” I replied.

  She just stood there, her very silence accusing me.

  Behind me, Isabel said, “It was me, Madame. I’m sorry.”

  I knew Isabel was trying to get Burov off my back. She’d been subtly running interference ever since she noticed the wicked woman had started to pick on me.

  Even after Isabel confessed, Burov continued to watch me.

  I didn’t turn my head to meet her eyes. She might bark at me for even breathing without her direct order. That wasn’t the only reason I didn’t look at her, though. I was worried about what she might see in my eyes, and I couldn’t afford to make her dislike me any more than she already did.

  Eventually, she moved off and started calling out commands again.

  The warm-up finished without any other incident. As we moved to get into position for rehearsal, Isabel caught my gaze and rolled her eyes expressively.

  I didn’t dare let myself smile.

  I couldn’t see Burov, but I knew she was watching me.

  Class that day seemed to take forever, and I was dragging by the time it was over. Although I hadn’t slept much the night before, that wasn’t the sole reason for my bone-deep fatigue.

  It was stress.

  For the rest of the morning and through the afternoon session, I’d been the focus of Burov’s ire. How I’d managed to keep from snapping back at her was beyond me, but it had drained my last nerve.

  “Wow, she’s been a real bitch today,” Isabel said as we walked out int
o the sunlight.

  Knowing Burov was ensconced in her office and out of earshot, I finally let myself respond. “I sort of noticed,” I said, my grimace expressing more than my words.

  “There’s Sean,” she said, gesturing down the curb. “Oh…Daria, look who’s with him.”

  I absently followed her gaze, only to do a double take when I saw the tall, graceful man leaning against the car next to Sean.

  It was Brooks.

  I swallowed at the sight of him. “What’s he doing here?” I asked softly.

  “I could be wrong, but something tells me you are what he’s doing here.” She winked at me when I looked over at her. “Pun intended.”

  My cheeks went hot, and I gave her a dirty look.

  I hated how easily I blushed.

  She laughed and hooked her arm through mine, tugging me along with her. “Come on. Sean said something earlier about going out to eat.”

  We drew even with the men, and Isabel let go of me to throw her arms around Sean’s neck, landing a loud, smacking kiss on his lips.

  I shifted from one foot to the other as I met Brooks’ eyes. “Hi.”

  He smiled at me, and I noticed his eyes crinkling a little at the corners.

  “Hi, yourself.” He moved in closer, and I froze as he dropped a kiss on my cheek. He straightened and held out a hand for the gym bag with my clothes and shoes. “Let me take that,” he offered.

  Without thinking, I turned it over.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him, wincing after the last words left my lips. I couldn’t have blurted that out any more rudely if I tried.

  “Sean mentioned that he and Isabel were going out to dinner.” He brushed a stray lock of hair back from my cheek. “I asked if we could join them.”

  “Like a date?” Okay, I was going to glue my mouth shut if I kept blurting out stupid things.

  Brooks smiled at me. “Just like a date. You interested?”

  Isabel was nodding at me with exaggerated movements of her head, and I pointedly ignored her. While part of me wanted to say yes, the uncertainty kept me silent as I thought about it. I was already too involved with him. Once he was tired of me…

  Maybe he won’t get tired of me. Isabel thinks he’s falling for me.

  I was afraid to hope for that.

  But as he smiled down at me, I couldn’t stop the faint lightening of my heart. Maybe he was serious about me.

  Maybe.

  “Yeah.” I smiled at him. “I’d like that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Daria

  We ended up at a hole-in-the-wall Italian place that Isabel loved. We rarely came here—the carbohydrates in pasta were so, so bad—but the place was one of my favorite restaurants ever.

  I hadn’t realized how intimate the place could be until we were seated in a cozy little nook, the area partially obscured by several potted plants.

  Brooks sat next to me while Sean and Isabel sat on the opposite side of the table. I could feel the long, lean line of his thigh pressing against me, and it proved to be very distracting.

  After dinner and our dishes were cleared, we sat drinking cappuccinos and chatting. I’d just put my cup down when a hard, warm hand landed on my thigh. I shivered a bit.

  Brooks gave me a concerned look. “Are you cold?” He had a look of pure innocence on his face.

  “I’m fine,” I said, pleased at how steady my voice sounded. Trying to distract myself, I looked at Isabel. “I wanted to let you know I’m going to start looking for an apartment. You and Sean should have the place to yourself now that you’re married.”

  “No!” Isabel protested.

  Sean didn’t say a word, but I thought I caught a faint flicker in his eye—relief.

  Isabel was looking at me and didn’t notice.

  “It’s time, Iz,” I told her.

  “But…” She frowned at me, leaning back in the booth and crossing her arms over her chest. “There’s no rush for you to move out.”

  “I know.” At least, there was no rush for Isabel. But I could tell Sean was ready to be alone with his new bride.

  Brooks stroked his fingers across my thigh.

  I’d been about to say something, but that light touch made me stutter, and I looked down at the table as I reached for control. When I looked back at Isabel, I managed a weak smile. “I just think it’s best that I find someplace sooner rather than later.”

  “Where are you thinking of looking?” she asked, clearly realizing I was serious.

  “I don’t know. I’ve glanced at the paper a few times and looked at a few places online. My budget is a problem. I might have to pick up a part-time job.” I’d received some money from Kiska when she died, and I was attending the academy on a scholarship, but the funds I had wouldn’t last forever if I kept dipping into them to help with my rent.

  Rent with Isabel had been gloriously cheap, and she only took the two hundred in cash I paid her every month so I wouldn’t hound her.

  I couldn’t even rent a shoebox in New York for two hundred dollars.

  But I’d figure out something.

  “I’ve actually been thinking about getting a place here in the city,” Brooks said.

  Sean lowered his cup of coffee, eyes narrowing slightly. “Since when?”

  “Since a while ago,” Brooks replied with a lift of his shoulder. “Dad sends me up here a couple times a month these days. I get tired of living out of hotels.”

  He shifted his attention to me, and his eyes explored my face. “Maybe you could move in with me if I do find a place.”

  He could have knocked me over with a feather, and even as my heart pounded harder, my jaw sagged open.

  Immediately, I snapped it closed, but I was still shocked. “I don’t understand.”

  “You could move in with me,” he said again. “I won’t be in the city all the time. Just off and on. You’d have the place to yourself most of the time.”

  I looked away from him, reaching for my cappuccino. I was vaguely aware of Isabel watching me with glee in her eyes.

  Where was the girl who’d warned me away from Brooks just weeks ago?

  “I think I’d have to think about it, Brooks,” I said softly.

  He just shrugged again, a gleam in his beautiful eyes. And his hand slid higher.

  We sat in the back of a cab, driving through the streets of New York as the sun slowly sank down in the west, turning the skyscrapers around us a dozen different shades of pink, yellow, and orange.

  I focused hard on those buildings, gripping the edge of the seat tightly in my hands.

  Brooks had his hand inside my skirt, and his fingers were rubbing me through my leotard and tights.

  I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, trying not to moan.

  “Dinner was good,” he said casually. “Did you enjoy yours?”

  Dinner? He was rubbing my clit in the back of a taxicab, and he wanted to know about dinner?

  “Daria?” he pressed, his nose rubbing against my ear.

  “Dinner was fine,” I said, my voice shaking just a little.

  “We should go back there sometime and have dessert.”

  I nodded mutely, my focus not on dessert at all. I was too busy trying not to rock against his hand.

  He pressed two fingers firmly against me, and I gasped as he pressed against the layers of tights and leotard.

  Strength draining away, I slumped against the cushioned back seat.

  He seemed to appreciate that, and I realized I’d just given him better access. Unconsciously, I parted my legs more and looked down to see his hand moving under my skirt.

  The cabbie made a comment—I had no idea what he said. I only vaguely heard Brooks reply with a yes.

  He sounded way too calm for a man who was currently teasing my clitoris.

  And if he kept it up, I was going to come right there. I didn’t know if I could be quiet about it, either. This was a new sensation, his fingers rubbing me through the fabric of my dance clo
thes, almost as exciting as though they were on my skin.

  I didn’t realize we’d even arrived at the hotel until Brooks withdrew his hand from under my skirt. He slid me a dark, hungry look as he reached into his jacket pocket for his wallet.

  I had a few seconds reprieve as he paid the cabbie, but then his gaze was back on me. I blushed furiously, and my legs trembled as he helped me out of the cab.

  “Come on,” he said, taking my hand and turning toward the doors of his hotel. “I’m just getting started.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Brooks

  The words I’d said back at the restaurant still echoed through my mind.

  I’d invited Daria to live with me.

  And on closer examination, I’d meant it too.

  I wanted her with me…all the time. That wasn’t possible with everything she had going on with school and how much traveling I had to do until things were established in Miami and Sean could take over.

  This was the next best thing.

  Even when I was in Philadelphia, I could take the train and be in New York in just under an hour and a half.

  She hadn’t really responded when I’d made the offer, and now, as I led her into the elevator back at the hotel, I wanted an answer.

  “Have you thought about what I said?” I asked as the doors slid closed.

  She gave me a blank look. Considering her blue-gray eyes were still fogged by lust, I didn’t take it personally.

  “Living with me,” I clarified. “I’m serious about finding a place here. I’d like for you to be with me. But no pressure.”

  Her lashes fell over her eyes, and for a few seconds, I couldn’t see past that shield.

  Then she looked back at me and lifted a shoulder the slightest bit. “We’ll see. Okay?”

  It was better than a no, I supposed, but not really what I wanted, either.

  Backing her up against the wall, I caged her in with my arms.

  “How close were you to coming?” I asked. “In the taxi?”