Free The Boss and Her Billionaire by Michelel de Winton Page B

“Well, perhaps if you didn’t keep me waiting for cues…”

    “Don’t worry, darlings.” George stepped in between them. “The audience didn’t even notice. Off you go, girls.”

    The twins stalked off, noses high.

    “Sorry, I…”

    George held up a hand. “You and I know you missed a cue, but hardly anyone in the audience even
    knows what a cue is, let alone whether you missed any of them. You have that rare gift, faking it till you make it.”

    Dylan tried not to let the alarm show on his face. He knows I lied my way into that audition.

    “You can swoop in and start dancing out of cue,” George continued, “but because you do it with such
    aplomb, everyone thinks you’ve started exactly where you should have.”

    Relief washed over Dylan. He didn’t fancy the fallout if people discovered that he had next to no formal training—especially on a night when he’d let himself and the other dancers down.

    “Now go to bed early, and don’t give yourself away so easily tomorrow. Those women will eat you alive if you let them.”

    “I thought I might go through tomorrow’s routine a couple of times first.”

    George gave him a careful look. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. You need to rest.”

    “I know, and I will.” Dylan was suddenly determined. “I’ll get it soon enough. But I need it clear in my head, or I won’t sleep well.”

    “I guess we can’t have you tossing and turning,” George said.

    “And I just have to check in with Michaela—I mean, the cruise director—to see if I can be excused from anything tomorrow. My schedule today was almost twice everyone else’s.”

    “Good luck with that,” George said over his shoulder as he left the theater. “She’s not much of one for letting people get out of anything she wants them to do.”

    Dylan thought of how she’d melted under his kiss.

    Neither am I.

Chapter Five
    “Someone paged me?”

    Michaela found Dylan rehearsing in the theater by himself, with the sweat from two shows shining on
    his skin and overpowering his usual soapy smell.

    He stopped moving, and she heard the strains of tomorrow’s show coming from a small CD player in the
    corner.

    “Hi,” he said. “I needed to ask you about the activity roster. But before that, I just need a partner for this part.” He took her hand and pulled her firmly into a spin.

    “Excuse me?” She allowed the incredulous tone sharpen her voice.

    “Seeing as you’re here…just for a second.”

    His dark smile held something indefinably attractive in it, but Michaela shook her head.

    “Just stand there. That’s it,” he said, ignoring her refusal.

    There wasn’t an opportunity to move as he leapt around her, pulling her into spins and then releasing her to eat up the stage with his grand jeté. She gave up trying to escape and enjoyed the spectacle of his muscles tightening and releasing, his long frame a perfect swath of movement through space.

    Thoughts of wrapping her own legs around that waist and running her hands over his broad, strong
    shoulders brought a quiver to Michaela. When the music finally stopped, she had to take a few deep
    breaths to stop herself from stammering her words.

    He walked to his bag and took a swig of water. “Thanks. Glad you didn’t mind being used like that.”

    Mind? Michaela ducked her head, hoping the blush wasn’t obvious.

    “I wanted to ask you a favor,” he said with a sly look.

    Michaela drew herself up, trying to cover her desire with officiousness. “You are familiar, aren’t you?
    You page me to come down here, which isn’t correct procedure with a superior, you drag me into your
    dance rehearsal and sweat all over me, and now you want a favor? You’ve got cheek, I’ll give you that.”

    His face turned stony. “I thought… I didn’t know about procedure. Would you like to sit down?”

    Dylan took her elbow and led her into the seating. Choosing a plush couch, he sat. With him still