When the ballet instructor asked Greta to dance with a male partner, I sat up straighter. Not because I was jealous of the guy because he definitely was fishing in a different pond than me. No. Even from afar I could see how uncomfortable Greta felt. My protectiveness roared its ugly head. I didn’t have any right to be protective. At least not like this, not in this deep sense. Greta had her own protection waiting outside for her and also in the front. Seeing Greta’s obvious discomfort at having to touch her dance partner I got why Nevio wasn’t here in the theater. Considering his lack of control and penchant for violent outbursts, the male dancer would already have been history.
Greta’s expression became tighter and tighter as the dance began and the guy touched her hip. Fuck, it took all my self-control to stop me from rushing to the front and putting a stop to this bullshit.
Fabiano didn’t react, and if I did and acted like a protective bulldozer, he’d undoubtedly get suspicious. Neither Greta nor I could really risk that. So far he didn’t even know I was here. I’d come in after he’d settled on his seat in the front.
To be honest, I still couldn’t believe Greta was really here. When she’d told me a week ago that she’d be in New York for a dance rehearsal at Juillard, I’d thought it was to get me off her back. But now she was here and the way she’d danced would haunt me until the day I died. It was otherworldly, passionate and so unbelievably graceful.
The guy put his hands on her waist to lift her off the ground but Greta jerked away and shook her head. “I can’t.”
“You have to do a couple dance to apply for the program.”
“I know,” Greta pressed out with a tight smile, backing away from the guy. “It’s okay. Thank you for the chance.”
She turned around, gave Fabiano a quick glance that made him sit back down and she headed backstage. I wasn’t really surprised that she didn’t want him to console her. That guy was as cold as a dead fish. Mom always told me he used to be very different, but I only knew this version of my uncle.
I got up and went back the way I’d come in but took a detour that led me behind the stage. As usual I’d studied the layout of the building before I’d set foot inside of it. It was a habit that would probably one day save my life. Today it guaranteed that I’d find Greta without Fabiano being the wiser. I knew our time was limited. Fabiano had probably already alerted Nevio and it was only a matter of time before the latter would come in to get his sister.
If he found me anywhere near her…
I knocked at the female dressing room and after a moment a redhead opened the door, her gaze slowly rising from my chest up to my face. Her eyes grew wide and her face flushed.
“I need to talk to the girl who just left stage, black hair, about this height.” I motioned at my chest.
“She’s not here. She just rushed through.”
I turned, not waiting for more. I glanced around the dimly lit hallways leading to several storage rooms. I began to search the area and found Greta in a dark corner at the back of the hallway, her back pressed against the wall, her head bent down. She almost looked as if she were in a trance.
She tensed when I moved closer.
“It’s me, Amo.”
She didn’t look up or acknowledge my presence in any way.
“Are you all right? Do you want me to get Fabiano or your brother?” I really wasn’t fond of the idea, and it would end in a mess but if Greta needed them, I’d do it.
“I came here for quiet to calm down.”
I nodded. “You want me to leave?”
I couldn’t imagine leaving her like this. Every fiber of my body screamed to go closer, to comfort her with my touch. Fuck. That was the last thing she needed. The last thing I should do.
Her head rose and she fixed me with her dark eyes. “No.”
I moved closer until I stood right in front of her. She was really here. She tilted her head back to keep up eye contact. “Do you want me to have a word with the dance instructor? I’m sure there’s a way around the partner dance.”
Greta smiled slightly. “Partner dances are a crucial part of ballet.”
“But it’s your dream to dance. You just give up even though I could help you get a spot in Juillard if that’s what you really wanted.”
Dad would kick my ass. The Falcones probably too. Not to mention that it would look hella suspicious if I helped Greta. But she’d be in New York.
Fuck.
And then what?
I was still supposed to marry Cressida. She had completely ignored my dishonorable stunt in the Sphere. She’d probably even accept me fucking someone in front of her. She wanted to become my wife, no matter the price.