ANOTHER SKY

by Jayne Frost

  “What did I tell you,” came Sasha’s voice from below. “Nothing special.”

  The comment jerked me to my feet, and I began to clap. The sound reverberated, knocking everyone out of their stupor. And soon the whole auditorium vibrated with applause.

  Relief etched Gelsey’s features as she slowly let her arms fall to her sides.

  “I love you,” I mouthed.

  With a small bow of her head, my little mouse was no longer mine. She belonged to this world now. And I was the one along for the ride.

  Gelsey

  “You’re just being stubborn,” I said as I reached over Miles to turn the small alarm clock in my direction.

  I thought I was safe since he was half-dozing. But he grabbed me and flipped me onto my back before I could scurry away. One leg slotted between mine…and that smile. He was the best kind of trouble.

  Linking our fingers, he brought our hands over my head. “I am stubborn,” he said burying his face in my neck.

  His distraction wouldn’t work on me. Because I was stubborn too.

  Looping my leg around his, I pulled him closer. “It’s just one little party,” I whispered as my fingers toyed with the soft strands at the nape of his neck. “I’d really like you to go with me.”

  He went solid in my arms, his lips frozen on my collarbone. I knew he was thinking. Contemplating. And probably wishing he hadn’t stood up in the theater and made his presence known.

  After that, things had gotten complicated. Simon had asked me to a party at the Plaza. An honor, considering that none of the other apprentices were invited. And I bet it had something to do with Miles.

  Just stop by for drinks. No big deal. Bring your boyfriend.

  Some of the Company’s biggest donors were going to be there, according to Tatiana, who’d rushed over as soon as Simon had proffered the invitation.

  “You must go,” she’d said with a smile. “And convince your boyfriend to come as well.”

  Sealing her edict with a swift kiss to my cheek, she’d glided away before I could protest. Tatiana definitely had a softer touch than Ivan, but they both found a way to get their point across. To let me know what was expected.

  I was going to the party, whether I liked it or not. Whether I wanted to or not.

  But Miles was his own man. The only thing I could do was ask. Which I’d done while performing my version of a striptease to sweeten the pot.

  All I’d gotten for my trouble was a polite “no thanks” when it came to the party and three orgasms after he’d pinned me to the mattress and pounded me into next week.

  Apparently, I sucked at the seduction thing as a means of getting my way.

  Propping up on his elbow, Miles looked down at me with a question pinching his brow. “Tell me why.”

  I pulled the sheets up to my chin to cover my bare breasts. “Why what?”

  “Why you want me to go with you. Is it because Myron asked?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Simon.”

  Something about my artistic director rubbed Miles the wrong way. But he wouldn’t admit it.

  Since I still hadn’t answered the question, Miles’s lips inched toward a frown, his eyes clouding with some impending storm.

  Taking his face in my hands, I ran my thumbs over his stubble, then gently pressed a kiss to his mouth.

  He leaned into my touch, the way he always did.

  This was our thing. My thing. Maybe seduction wasn’t my forte, but I knew how to chase the clouds away.

  “I want you to come because I love you. And you’re a part of my life. I know you think you’re taking something away from me whenever you’re around. Like, stealing my thunder. But I don’t care. You’re not my rock star boyfriend. You’re…”

  His gaze fell to my lips as I tried to find the words. But only two came to mine.

  Coaxing those brown eyes back up, I smiled. “My everything.”

  The declaration took over all time and space and became a truth all its own. Miles was my everything. And I wanted to share everything with him. All the pieces of my life that paled in his presence but were still important.

  Smiling, he eased his forehead against mine. “Then I guess we’re going to a party.”

  Two hours later, I emerged from the bathroom after my shower, ready to brave the New York shopping scene to find a dress.

  Miles was relaxing on the bed, mindlessly flipping through channels on the big screen.

  Swallowing my disappointment that he wouldn’t be joining me on my excursion, I set about to find my sandals. The room was kind of a mess. Not dirty, but cluttered.

  We’d declined maid service for privacy reasons after Miles told me some horror stories about the lengths the tabloids would go to for a couple of pictures.

  I thought he was being paranoid until he’d shown me a few online photos taken at the height of his fame. Whiskey bottles. Condom wrappers. White powder on the nightstand.

  “All doctored,” he’d said with a shrug. “I don’t really give a shit about what people say about me. It’s expected. But I don’t want to drag you into anything.”

  Miles caught me around the waist when I popped up with one shoe in my hand, my gaze sweeping the room for its mate.

  “Stop,” I said, making a halfhearted attempt to break free when he pulled me onto the bed.

  Prying the sandal from my hand, he tossed it to the floor. “There is no stop. Only faster and harder.” His lips curved against my ear. “Miles is also an appropriate response. But only when I’m deep inside you.”

  My eyes rolled back when he wedged his muscular thigh against the apex of my thighs.

  “I have to find a dress,” I panted, my nipples tightening under my sheer bra.

  Ignoring my plea, he dipped his head and clamped down on the stiff peak through my T-shirt. “Uh-huh.”

  I gripped his hair, but that only seemed to spur him on. “Miles…”

  He finally rolled off me when the hotel phone rang. I took the opportunity to slide off the mattress and continue my quest for the lost footwear.

  “Yep,” he said, sounding a little annoyed as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. “Thanks.”

  After dropping the phone back in its cradle, he climbed to his feet while I continued to crawl around, peering under chairs and tables.

  I blinked up at him when he stopped in front of me and offered his hand, the corners of his mouth curving into the heart-stopping smile I loved. “Let’s go, baby.”

  Without hesitation, I let him help me to my feet. “Go where?”

  “To find you a dress.”

  Miles eased back in the winged chair, his eyes meeting mine in the full-length mirror. We were in a suite one floor below ours at the Ritz with two personal shoppers from Saks. Violet, the younger of the duo, hovered behind me, making slight adjustments to the fabric of my latest choice, while her partner, Cynthia, stood next to one of the three wardrobe racks with her hands clasped in front of her.

  “What do you think?” I asked Miles, running my hand nervously over the bodice. “Too much?”

  The dress was beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’d ever worn. White with thin straps that tapered into a deep V at the back, the material merely a whisper against my skin. I’d never felt anything like it.

  Miles smiled. “No. Not too much. But I thought you liked the black one?”

  At that precise moment, Cynthia stepped forward with the dress in question draped over her arm.

  Darting a gaze to Violet, scrutinizing my reflection with a most serious expression, I asked, “Which one do you like?”

  Startled, her eyes met mine in the mirror. “You’re asking me?”

  Color rose in my cheeks. Wasn’t that why she was here? I certainly didn’t have any experience with cocktail attire. Or any attire that wasn’t purchased at Target or Wal-Mart.

  “Yes,” I squeaked.

  Cynthia, a few years older with maybe a little more experience, appeared behind me. “Both dresses are lovely
.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “And they fit you perfectly. It’s just a matter of choice, really.”

  My shoulders sagged. How could I ever decide?

  Miles cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. But he only had eyes for me. Soft eyes that held nothing but love. “We’ll take them both.”

  Violet and Cynthia quickly rushed to the cart with the boxes of shoes stacked four deep while I gaped at my boyfriend.

  “Both?” I hissed. “I don’t need both.”

  When would I ever wear something like this again? At least if I found something at a discount store, I wouldn’t feel so guilty if it just hung in my closet. And what did a dress like this even cost?

  Miles pushed to his feet, closing the distance between us as I frantically searched for the tag.

  Taking my hand, he brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to my palm. “Yes, baby. Both.”

  Miles

  Gelsey shifted her feet, a little unsteady on her designer heels. She looked gorgeous, the extra four inches bringing the crown of her head to right about my chin level. Every time she moved, I got a delicious whiff of her shampoo.

  Distracting, since I was trying to focus on my conversation with Kristof, the conductor from the New York Philharmonic. The hum of conversation in the Palm Court at the Plaza and his thick Austrian accent conspired against me, and I was only able to understand about half of what he said. But that was all right, because, in the end, we spoke the same language—music. It was universal.

  Our discussion had run the gamut, shifting easily from the Beatles to Yo Yo Ma, and finally to the acoustics at the David Geffen Hall.

  Kristof’s wife, Astrid, a violinist in his orchestra, glided over. “You must come to a performance,” she said, inquisitive gaze flicking from me to my girl.

  I ran my fingers along Gelsey’s spine to get her attention.

  Clutching her untouched glass of champagne, she peered up with wide, blue eyes. “What?” As if she just realized that Kristof and Astrid were there, she jerked, and color rose in her cheeks. “Oh. I’m sorry. Did I miss something?”

  Astrid touched Gelsey’s hand, genuine warmth in her expression. “No worries, love. It is a bit overwhelming. Even an experienced performer would be nervous in this den of lions. I’ve never known Simon to invite an apprentice.” Inclining her head, Astrid’s eyes roamed over Gelsey’s face with familiarity. “But then, you’re not just any apprentice, are you?”

  Gelsey licked her lips. “Sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You are your mother’s daughter,” said Kristof jovially as he pulled his wife to his side. “We saw Katya perform at the Royal Ballet with Ivan Volkov before she retired. She was breathtaking. And the whole of New York is waiting to see her reborn in you.”

  Even I felt the pressure of his statement. The weight of the expectation.

  But Gelsey merely lifted her chin, a practiced smile curving her lips. “I hope I won’t disappoint you. But my mother was one of a kind. It’ll be tough to fill even a fraction of her pointe shoes.”

  The couple laughed at the joke, but Gelsey’s back was so stiff, it felt like granite beneath my touch.

  Impulsively, I thrust my hand at the conductor. “It was nice to meet you, Kristof. But if you’ll excuse us? I see someone trying to get Gelsey’s attention by the bar.”

  A white lie. But I feared if I didn’t get her alone for a moment, she might buckle under the stress.

  Simon had definitely thrown Gelsey into the deep end. This party was overflowing with the crème de la crème of New York society. Patrons of the arts. And while there were probably a few genuine souls roaming around, like the conductor and his wife, most were busy showing off their jewelry and engaging in oh-so-serious conversations about their nannies and the price of real estate in the Hamptons.

  “Thank God,” Gelsey whispered as I led her to a quiet spot between two arched windows.

  Once we were alone, her facade of calm crumbled around the edges, and worry lines creased her brow.

  “What is it, baby?” I stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the party. “Not having a good time?”

  Her lips fell into a frown. “I’m just…a little nervous.”

  When her gaze dropped to the floor, I threaded a hand in her hair, coaxing her attention to mine. “What else?”

  She cringed. “Is it that obvious?”

  For me, it was. Yes, Gelsey was her own woman. Strong. Capable. And so fucking beautiful. The confidence would come. One performance and she’d own any room she walked in to.

  “Not at all. I just thought…you know…all the new faces.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head. “You don’t seem to be having any problem with it.”

  I smiled.

  Gelsey only saw the me I was now. One of the things I loved about her. I never bragged about meeting the Queen. Or doing a half-time show at the Super Bowl. Or even performing for the President. But then again, I had Tori and Paige and Rhenn by my side. Gelsey was all alone.

  “I’ve had a little experience with this kind of crowd.”

  She blinked, gazing at me in that way she did sometimes. Like she was seeing me for the first time. I felt like a god when she looked at me that way.

  Looping my arm around her waist, I pulled her close. “Have I told you how pretty you look tonight? And those heels.” Dipping low, I smiled against the shell of her ear. “I can’t wait to see you in them and nothing else.”

  “That can definitely be arranged.” Clutching the lapels of my suit jacket, she dragged me in for a quick kiss. “Also—have I told you how pretty you look tonight?”

  Easing back, I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not pretty, baby. Devastatingly handsome. Rugged. Well hung and totally fuckable. But—”

  “Gelsey?”

  The female voice was right behind me. Close enough to assure she might’ve overheard our conversation. Gelsey must’ve realized it too, because her eyes widened to double their size.

  Winking, I gave her a little shrug before sliding out of the way.

  “Tatiana.” Gelsey leaned in for a hug, her smile melting when she noticed the two women standing behind the regal blonde.

  After a tense moment, I gave her a nudge.

  “Oh, yes,” Gelsey squeaked, clearly flustered as she looked up at me. “Miles, this is Tatiana. She’s the assistant choreographer for the Company.” Her smile wobbled, and not in the adorable way I was used to. “And Jelena and Sasha. Two of the dancers from—”

  “Principal dancers,” one of the women spit out, pinning Gelsey with a disdainful glare. Two beats and she turned her frosty gaze on me, the ice melting the moment our eyes met.

  “I’m Sasha.” Her lips curved as she glanced at the other dancer. “And this is my sister, Jelena.”

  The accent combined with her bitter tone shook something loose.

  Sasha.

  The woman who’d insulted Gelsey at the rehearsal this afternoon.

  What did I tell you? Nothing special.

  Both sisters shrank from the scowl I couldn’t hide.

  Gathering my composure, I pointedly ignored the harpies and plastered on a semblance of a smile for Tatiana. Her lips twitched at the corners, like maybe she was aware of the vipers at her back.

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  “You as well.” After offering me her hand, Tatiana shifted her focus to Gelsey. “Simon would like to see you. He has something important to discuss. Sasha and Jelena will show you to his table.”

  The sisters shot simultaneous looks of surprise at Tatiana. But she didn’t spare them a glance.

  Gelsey lingered like she wasn’t quite sure. “I guess I should go then.”

  I gave her the slightest nod. Something just between us. But Tatiana noticed.

  “Do not worry about Miles,” she said, inching a little closer to me. “I will keep him company while you are gone.”

  Pressing a kiss to Gelsey’s forehead, I kept
my gaze on Sasha and Jelena. Don’t fuck with my girl. I telegraphed the message with cold eyes. Not that Gelsey couldn’t stand up for herself. But as an apprentice, I wasn’t sure that she would.

  “Have you ever seen a Lily of the Valley?” Tatiana asked as she watched the trio glide through the crowd, their golden hair shimmering like halos under the bright lights.

  I frowned into my next sip of San Pellegrino. “No.”

  “It is a beautiful flower. Truly alluring. But extremely poisonous.” A hint of a smile played on her lips. “That is Sasha and Jelena.”

  My stomach turned, but I didn’t show it. “Does Gelsey know that?”

  “She is aware. But enough about them. Do you have a moment to chat?”

  Tatiana’s affection for Gelsey seemed genuine, so I abandoned my plan to ditch her.

  “Sure.”

  I followed her to a high table tucked in the corner and admired the view.

  Though I’d been here before, the beauty of the place never ceased to amaze me. Stone pillars sat between arched windows, angels carved into the facades. Palm trees in ornate pots, their fronds dense and the lushest green, reached for the false light peeking through the stained-glass ceiling. But it was the round bar in the center of the room cupping a twelve-foot floral arrangement that really demanded attention.

  A server scurried over, and Tatiana ordered a shot of chilled vodka. Waving him off, I held up my bottle of sparkling water.

  “So, it is true?” she asked once we were alone. “Or are you just acting?”

  Blunt. I liked it. And though I could guess what she was talking about from the way she eyed my water, I played dumb.

  “Is what true?” I drawled, lifting the bottle to my lips.

  She didn’t back down. Not an inch. “That you do not drink?”

  I raised both brows. “That’s not what you want to ask, is it?”

  Shrewd blue eyes locked on mine. “No. I suppose not.”

  “So ask,” I said, tiring of the game.

  She kept quiet until the server dropped off her drink.

  “Are you an alcoholic, Miles?”

  Rock, meet hard place. Most people didn’t ask. Hell, Gelsey never even asked. Just accepted what was written in the tabloids and took her cues from my actions. She’d never seen me with a drink in my hand. Nobody had. Not in years.