Free Dance to the Piper by Nora Roberts Page A

deal of my life is structured for me, simply to keep me on level ground. The rest has to change, fluctuate constantly, or I lose the edge. You should understand that, you work with entertainers."
    His lips curved as he lifted his glass. "I certainly do."
    "They amuse you?"
    "In some ways," he admitted easily enough. "In others they frustrate me, but that doesn't mean I don't admire them."
    "While knowing they're all a little mad."
    It took only an instant for the humor to spread from his mouth to his eyes. "Absolutely."
    "I like you, Reed." She put her hand over his, friend to friend. "It's a pity you don't have more illusions."
    He didn't ask her what she meant. He wasn't certain he wanted to know. Conversation stopped when the waiter arrived with menus and a list of specials delivered in a rolling French accent Maddy decided was genuine.
    "This is a problem," Maddy muttered when they were alone again.
    Reed glanced up from his menu. "You don't like French food?"
    "Are you kidding?" She grinned at him. "I love it. I love Italian food, Armenian food, East Indian food. That's the problem."
    "You suggested pizza," he reminded her. "It's hard to believe you're worried about calories."
    "I was only going to have one piece and inhale the rest." She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and knew she could have eaten anything on the menu. "I have two choices. I can order just a salad and deny myself. Or I can say this is a celebration and shoot the works."
    "I can recommend the cotelettes de saumon"
    She lifted her gaze from the menu again to study him very seriously. "You can?"
    "Highly."
    "Reed, I'm a grown woman and independent by nature. When it comes to food, however, I often have the appetite of a twelve-year-old in a bakery. I'm going to put myself in your hands." She closed the menu and set it aside. "With the stipulation that you understand I can only eat this way once or twice a year unless I want to bounce around stage like a meatball."
    "Understood." He decided, for reasons he didn't delve into, to give her the meal of her life.
    He wasn't disappointed. Her unabashed appreciation for everything put in front of her was novel and somehow compelling. She ate slowly, with a dark, sensual enjoyment Reed had forgotten could be found in food. She tasted everything and finished nothing, and it was clear that the underlying discipline was always there, despite her sumptuous appreciation.
    She teased herself with flavors as other women might tease themselves with men. She closed her eyes over a bite of fish and gave herself to the pleasure of it as others gave themselves to the pleasures of lovemaking.
    Champagne bubbles exploded in their glasses, and the scents rising up were rich.
    "Oh, this is wonderful. Taste."
    Wanting to share her pleasure, she held her fork out to him. His body tightened, surprising him. He had been aroused just by watching her, but he discovered in that instant that what he really wanted was to sample her, slowly, as she sampled the tastes and textures on her plate.
    He opened his mouth and allowed himself to be fed. As he savored the bite, he watched her eyes and saw they were aware. Mixed with that awareness was a curiosity that became intensely erotic.
    "It's very good."
    She knew she was getting in over her head, and she wondered why the feeling was so alluring. "Dancers think about food too much. I suppose it's because we watch so much of it pass us by."
    "You said once that dancers are always hungry."
    He wasn't speaking of food now. To give herself a moment, Maddy picked up her glass and sipped. "We make a choice, usually in childhood. We give up football games, TV, parties, and go to class instead. It carries over into adulthood."
    "How much do you sacrifice?"
    "Whatever it takes."
    "And it's worth it?"
    "Yes." She smiled, more comfortable now that she could feel her body pull away from that trembling edge of tension. "Even at its worst, it's worth it."
    He leaned back just enough to distance