"Roberts, Nora - Stanislaski 08 - Dance of Dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

or a gesture of the wrist was employed to accent the mood.
The late summer sun poured through the windows, patterning the floor. Drops of
sweat trickled unheeded, unfelt, down Ruth's back as she turned in, then out of
Nick's arms. The character of Carlotta would enrage and enrapture the prince
throughout the ballet. The mood for their duel of hearts was set during their
first encounter.
It was at times like this, when Ruth danced with Nick, that she realized she
would always worship him, the dancer, the legend. To be his partner was the
greatest thrill of her life. He took her beyond herself, beyond what she had
ever hoped to be. On her journey from student to the corps de ballet to
principal dancer, Ruth had danced with many partners, but none of them could
touch Nick Davidov for sheer brilliance and precision. And endurance, she
thought ruefully as he ordered the pas de deux to begin again. Ruth took a
moment to catch her breath as the pianist turned back the pages of the score.
Nick turned to her, lifting his hand for hers. "Where is your passion today,
little one?" he demanded.
It was a salutation Ruth detested, and he knew it. The grin shot across his face
as she glared at him. Saying nothing, she placed her palm to his.
"Now, my gypsy, tell me to go to the devil with your body as well as your eyes.
Again."
They began, but this time Ruth stopped thinking of her pleasure in dancing with
him. She competed now, step for step, leap for leap. Her annoyance gave Nick
precisely what he wanted. She dared him to best her. She spun into his arms, her
eyes hot. Poised only a moment, she spun away again and with a grand jetщ,
challenged him to follow her.
They ended as they had begun, palm to palm, with her head thrown back. Laughing,
Nick caught her close and kissed her enthusiastically on both cheeks.
"There, now, you're wonderful! You spit at me even while you offer your hand."
Ruth's breath was coming quickly after the effort of the dance. Her eyes, still
lit with temper, remained on Nick's. A swift flutter raced up her spine,
distracting her. She saw that Nick had felt it, too. She saw it in his eyes,
felt it in the fingers he pressed into the small of her back. Then it was gone,
and Nick drew her away.
"Lunch," he stated and earned a chorus of approval. The rehearsal hall began to
clear immediately. "Ruth." Nick took her hand as she turned to join the others.
"I want to talk to you."
"All right, after lunch."
"Now. Here."
Her brows drew together. "Nick, I missed breakfastЧ"
"There's yogurt in the refrigerator downstairs, and Perrier." Releasing her
hand, Nick walked to the piano. He sat and began to improvise. "Bring some for
me, too."
Hands on her hips, Ruth watched him play. Of course, she thought wrathfully,
he'd never consider I'd say no. He'd never think to ask me if I had other plans.
He expects I'll run off like a good little girl and do his bidding without a
word of complaint.
"Insufferable," she said aloud.
Nick glanced up but continued to play. "Did you speak?" he asked mildly.
"Yes," she answered distinctly. "I said, you're insufferable."
"Yes." Nick smiled at her good-humoredly. "I am."