by Teri Wilson
If he agreed to headline The Circle Club, the news would be splashed all over New York City. Zander would make certain of it. Once word got out, every music critic in the tristate area would turn up to see the great Julian Shine onstage again.
Except Julian wasn’t great anymore. He wasn’t nearly as good on the piano as he’d been on the trumpet. He was painfully aware of that fact. He sure as hell didn’t need to read about it in the New York Times.
Zander nodded. “Tessa told me you’d say that.”
At the sound of Tessa’s name, Julian’s libido went on high alert. He slung back the remainder of his espresso.
“She’s rather fond of you, you know,” Zander said, lifting a brow. “That doesn’t come easy for her, especially after all she’s been through.”
“Her fall. Yes, I know about that.” Julian gave a curt nod. He wasn’t altogether comfortable with the direction the conversation was headed. It felt wrong to discuss Tessa behind her back.
“It wasn’t just the fall. It’s everything that happened afterward. Losing her hearing was devastating. Then Owen left, just when she needed someone most.”
Owen? The name sounded vaguely familiar. “Her dance partner?”
“He was her dance partner.” Zander sighed. “And more. He blamed himself for her hearing loss. If you ask me, it’s because he knew her injury was his fault to begin with. He couldn’t handle the guilt of what he’d done. That makes him a prick in my book, but it left Tessa feeling broken. She doesn’t think she’s worthy of a real life. Real happiness.”
Julian’s gut churned. He had the sudden urge to find the despicable-sounding Owen, wherever he was, and pummel him within an inch of his life.
He’d dropped her. Then he’d walked away.
No wonder she had trust issues.
“Tessa’s special,” Julian said, as a heaviness hit him square in the center of his chest. “I have no intention of hurting her. I promise you that.”
“Good.” Zander nodded and glanced at the clock again. “I thought she might join us. She usually drops by on Monday mornings, before rehearsal, but she must have something else going on today.”
The heavy sensation in Julian’s chest intensified. He felt like a vise was closing around his heart. He cleared his throat. “I thought she had to teach a ballet class this morning. I seem to recall her mentioning something about it last night.”
This morning, actually.
And she’d most definitely mentioned it. Julian remembered the conversation with perfect clarity—since they’d both been naked at the time.
Zander shook his head. “The studio is closed on Mondays. Always has been. I ought to know. My entire life as a kid was centered around the operating hours of the Wilde School of Dance.”
“Of course.” Julian gave him a grim smile. The darkness was gathering inside him again. Suffocating and black as night. “My mistake.”
Tessa had lied her way out of his bed this morning.
He needed to get out of there. He couldn’t keep sitting in the Bennington, pretending to have a normal conversation with her brother, while his mind was spinning with a million possibilities, each one more humiliating than the next. Tessa wasn’t the only one with trust issues.
She’d lied to him.
Why?
There had to be an explanation. He couldn’t have misread her reaction the night before. She’d been so ready...so responsive. He hadn’t imagined the way she shivered every time he looked at her, how she writhed when he touched her. She’d climaxed the instant he’d pushed inside her velvety heat. He could practically still feel her pulsing around him. She couldn’t fake that kind of passion. No one could.
“I should be going.” Julian stood. He needed answers, and he wasn’t going to find them here. “Thank you again for your hospitality.”
Zander shook his hand. “Anytime. Think things over, and if you change your mind about The Circle Club, give me call. I promise to make it worth your while.”
Change his mind?
Not likely.
Not anymore.
Chapter Fourteen
Chance leaned against the rehearsal studio piano and drummed his fingers in an obvious attempt to get Julian to look up.
Julian shook his head and kept playing his warm-up scales. He wasn’t in the mood for a discussion. Not with Chance, anyway. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to talk to Tessa. At least not here. He just wanted to bang out some music on the piano, earn his paycheck and then get out as quickly as possible.
But in true Chance form, Julian’s oldest friend wasn’t willing to be ignored.
“I know you see me standing here, man.” He waved a hand directly in front of Julian’s face, much like he used to do when they were kids and he grew bored of Julian playing his trumpet all the time.
Julian sighed and looked up. His hands kept traveling over the keys. D chord, E flat, F, G. “What do you want?”
“Your girlfriend is missing,” Chance said.
The piano went silent. Julian didn’t bother correcting him this time. She’s not my girlfriend. “What are you talking about?”
“Tessa’s not here. She was supposed to arrive an hour ago for a costume fitting, and she never showed. Ivanov is on a terror. That tutu is covered in half a million dollars’ worth of diamonds. I thought you might have some idea where she could be.” The Russian’s voice boomed from the direction of the hallway. Chance rolled his eyes. “Please say you do, or else we’re in for a long, painful day.”
Shit. Where was she?
“I don’t.” Julian raked a hand through his hair. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Great.” Chance rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you saw her?”
Julian met his gaze, but said nothing.
Chance’s brow furrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Julian wasn’t keen on discussing what had transpired between him and Tessa. Aside from the obvious fact that it was private, he also wasn’t entirely sure what, if anything, was going on between them, thanks to his chat with Zander.
But he was also beginning to worry. It wasn’t like Tessa to forget a costume fitting. Especially this one. Tessa hadn’t even been a minute late to rehearsal since the second day of auditions, when she’d crashed into him. “I saw her earlier this morning.”
Chance lifted a brow. “Interesting. Does this mean what I think it means?”
Good question. Julian wished he knew the answer. “It means I’m concerned as to her whereabouts. Nothing more. Has anyone tried to reach her?”
“She has a cell phone, but she only texts because of the you know...” Chance gestured to his ear. “I sent her a message earlier but haven’t gotten a reply.”
Dread settled in Julian’s gut like a lead weight. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, along with the business card Zander Wilde had pressed into his palm before he’d left the Bennington. He didn’t want to call Tessa’s brother. He didn’t even want Zander Wilde’s number in his phone, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Zander picked up on the first ring. “Julian! It’s great to hear from you so soon. I hope this means you’ve reconsidered my offer.”
“I’m sorry, but no. Actually, I was wondering...” Before he could finish, he looked up and saw Tessa darting into the room. Her face was flushed and streaked with tears, and Mr. B was tucked under her arm. But she headed straight to her usual spot at the barre, pulled her pointe shoes out of her bag and began the complicated process of putting them on while her little dog sat and watched.
Julian’s jaw clenched. He didn’t bother telling himself that Tessa wasn’t his and whatever was going on with her wasn’t any of his business. They’d spent one night together. He didn’t have any kind of claim on her.
But that night meant something. It wasn’t just sex. It
meant something because he cared. As much as he’d tried not to, he did. He might even be in love with her.
“Julian, are you still there?” Zander’s voice echoed in his ear.
“Apologies. I seem to have misdialed.” He hung up without waiting for a response, stood and marched toward Tessa.
Chance muttered something behind him, which he ignored. He couldn’t sit on a piano bench and play scales when Tessa was so visibly upset.
She’d been crying.If he’d had any part of whatever was making her so upset, he’d never forgive himself.
One of the other dancers reached her before he did. Violet, if he remembered correctly. She was huddled beside Tessa, peppering her with questions, when he slowed to a stop directly in front of them.
“Tessa,” he said.
She didn’t respond. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment. Julian felt like he’d stepped back in time, to the day he’d first tried to talk to her on the train. A rush of coldness came over him, reaching icy fingers straight to his core. He thought about the song he’d played for her just hours ago—“Dance, Ballerina, Dance”—and the disappointment that nagged at him when she hadn’t remembered its significance. He cursed himself.
She doesn’t hear me.
How had he missed the signs again?
Mr. B pawed at Tessa, prompting her to look up. She took in his presence and smiled. But even as her generous lips turned up at the edges, her eyes filled with tears. “Hello, Julian.”
Violet shot him a curious glance.
“We need to talk,” he said, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could offer her some kind of comfort. The urge to pull her into an embrace and hold her was so strong that he had to cross his arms to stop himself from doing so.
Violet looked him up and down. “She can’t. She already missed a costume fitting, and rehearsal is about to start.”
“I think Tessa can speak for herself.” Julian’s gaze flitted from Violet’s annoyed countenance back to Tessa. “Can we talk?”
He placed his right hand against his heart and moved it in a deliberate, clockwise circle. Please.
Tessa nodded. “Yes, but not here. Meet me in my dressing room.”
Violet grabbed her wrist. “What are you doing? Have you seen Ivanov yet? He’s on the warpath.”
She gathered Mr. B in her arms and stood. “He can wait. I’ll be right back.”
Violet stared at her in disbelief and then gave Julian a look that was dripping with disdain. Apparently he was ruining her career now. Perfect.
He followed Tessa out the door and down the hall, toward the dressing rooms. Mr. B peered over her shoulder, with his ears pricked forward and bright eyes trained on Julian. The dog seemed to like him. That was something.
“Where is she? Is she here yet?” Ivanov yelled from behind a nearby closed door.
Julian was tempted to swing the door open and put him in his place. It was a wonder he hadn’t strangled the guy by now.
“Here.” Tessa stopped at the door marked Principal Ballerina and motioned for him to enter. “Come on in.”
Julian stepped inside and closed the door firmly behind him. The room was tinier than he’d imagined, only large enough to contain a small, sagging sofa and a tiny desk, with a matching chair. A mirror, surrounded by vanity lights, hung above the desk. The only other thing on the wall was a poster of a dancer, whom he recognized from his childhood. Big eyes, willowy limbs. She looked a lot like Tessa, minus the glittering fire in Tessa’s eyes and the winsome quality of her movements, along with the way he seemed to hear music whenever he was in her presence.
He swallowed. Hard.
Tessa deposited Mr. B on the sofa and turned to face him. He wanted to touch her. Not doing so was killing him. The only thing stopping him from kissing her right there and then was the unshed tears shimmering in her emerald eyes.
“When?” he said. And despite his determination to be strong for her, to be someone she could rely on, his voice broke.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking me.” She tried to smile, but the slight quiver in her chin didn’t escape his notice. “When what?”
“You don’t have to pretend with me. I know you can’t hear, Tessa.” Did she think it mattered? He didn’t give a damn how they communicated, so long as they actually did. “When? What happened?”
She gave him a watery smile and shrugged one slender shoulder. “The doctor doesn’t know why. She warned me it might not last, and she was right. I’m not entirely sure when it went away. Sometime during the night. When I woke up and found you playing the piano, I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I’d just slipped back into silence so easily, so naturally, that I didn’t notice at first. And now...” She pressed her fingertips to her lips and shook her head.
Julian’s chest felt like it was being ripped wide-open while he waited for her to finish.
She took a deep breath. “And now everything’s changed. It’s over.”
“Nothing’s changed, Tessa. You’re still the same person you were last night.” Pain blossomed in Julian’s temples, like some kind of terrible flower.
He was the biggest hypocrite in the world.
Chance had said various versions of the same sentiment to him on countless occasions, and Julian railed against it each and every time. Now here he was, looking Tessa in the eye and telling her what was happening to her body didn’t matter.
But it didn’t. He believed that with every shred of his being.
“I’m not the same person, Julian. Yesterday, I was a dancer preparing for the opening night of her first big role. Today, I’m once again a wannabe ballerina who can’t hear. Don’t you see what’s happening? I’m going to have to quit.”
He couldn’t have been more stunned if he’d been slapped in the face. “What are you talking about? No one at the company knew your hearing was coming back to begin with. They don’t care about that. Not even Ivanov. It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters, Julian. It matters a lot. The only reason I got this part is because I could hear again. Now it’s gone. I’ll never be able to keep up. Maybe if I had more time...but I don’t. Opening night is in four days.” She took a deep breath. An eerie calm had come over her. It scared Julian to death, because he knew what it signified.
Defeat.
“You can’t quit,” he said flatly. He wouldn’t let her. If she dropped out of this ballet, there wouldn’t be another. She could do this. If she didn’t believe in herself enough to do it now, she never would.
“It’s my decision, not yours.” Her cheeks flared pink.
She was angry. Good. Julian preferred anger to despair any day of the week. He’d gladly step in as the object of her rage if it meant she’d cut herself some slack.
“You’re right. It’s not my decision, but I can’t stand by and watch you make a mistake you’ll regret later.” Tell her, damn it. “I care about you, Tessa.”
For a fraction of a second, there was a crack in her composure—just a sliver of a moment when Julian caught a glimpse of the woman who’d taken him by the hand the night before and led him out of the ballroom. Her gaze locked with his, and he could tell by the look in her eyes that she was remembering every decadent minute of their time in that hotel room. Every kiss, every shudder, every sigh.
He reached to cup her face, and a shock of something pure and primal shot through him.
Love.
He was in love with her. He’d never been so sure of anything in his life.
Tessa cleared her throat and took a backward step. The room was so small that she was still barely an arm’s length away, but it felt like a mile. “I appreciate that, but...”
Julian filled in the blank for her. “But you don’t believe me.”
Her gaze shifted to the floor. “Rehearsal is starting. I should go. I need to t
alk to Ivanov and Madame Daria.”
It was now or never. If he let her walk away, he might not have another chance to tell her how he felt, to make her believe him. He stood very still and waited for her to shift her gaze toward him again before he spoke.
It was the longest minute of Julian’s life.
Look at me, damn it.
Finally, when he couldn’t wait anymore, he reached for her again. He took her chin in his hand and gently forced her to look at him so she could read his lips. “I understand what you’re going through, babe. Believe me, I do. It’s unfair that you have to go through it twice, but this time, you don’t have to go through it alone. I promise.”
Her bottom lip quivered, and she inhaled a ragged breath. She looked like a frightened animal.
In his gentlest voice, Julian said, “Marry me.”
Tessa’s eyes flew open wide. “What?”
Mr. B jumped to attention on the sofa and let out a bark. Marvelous. Even her dog found the idea of marriage too shocking to contemplate.
Julian got it, though. He’d shocked himself, as well. But the instant the words left his mouth, a feeling he hadn’t experienced for a long time fell over him like a shimmering, sublime curtain.
Peace.
He’d been troubled and restless for so many months that he almost didn’t recognize it. He wouldn’t have now, if Tessa hadn’t opened his eyes. She’d taken him inside her heart and body, and his world had fallen back into place. And now he wanted her to stay there with him. Forever.
“Julian, you don’t want to marry me.” Tessa shook her head. “Have you lost your mind?”
He arched a brow. “I think I’ve found it, actually.”
She blinked. “This isn’t a joke.”
“I know. I’m not laughing. I’m dead serious.” He took her hand in his and ran the pad of his thumb over her ring finger, right at the spot where an engagement ring would sit.
She stared at their interlocked hands for a beat, and her gaze softened. Then she looked up again. “If you’re actually serious, I have two questions for you.”
