Free The Dark Duet by Kasonndra Leigh Page B

this? Of stopping these feelings for her? Do I truly wish to do so? I must find a way; if not for my own insatiable need to tempt danger, then for her safety. Gash and his idiotic sidekick made it clear where Rudolph stands when it comes to me getting involved with Alese on a personal level, which I should never have allowed to become an issue. Tomorrow, I will avoid her during practice, and whatever payment I have to make for tonight’s exhibition will be awarded and forgotten.

CHAPTER 11
    ~ Alese~
    Nikolai dodges me throughout the entire practice the next day. Our show, Maleficent, is starting to come together and Nikolai dances like a man possessed. I cannot believe he made me do what I did last night. Then again, I have the feeling this man can make a woman do anything he wishes, and with someone like Nikolai Belikov in control of my future, that scares me for some reason. Nevertheless, he is flawless as he dances onstage, his body a vessel of music, muscle, and emotion. I’m in awe of him, yet something about his body reminds me of someone else.
    I turn toward my group mates, trying my best to concentrate on the sheets of music I’ve been given by our conductor, Yuri. If Sir Belikov wants to play hard ass, then I can most definitely return the favor.
    As his set comes to an end, he glances my way while the Tomczak girls hang all over him, making me think the rumors I’ve heard about him spending more than just a bit of practice time with his dancers ring with truth.
    Oh just ask him out and stop being a chicken shit.
    Yeah, sure I can do that, and what happens when he rejects me and tells me why I shouldn’t be hitting on the man turning me into a killer?
    I work extra hard to ignore him, even going as far as flirting with Paolo, Nikolai’s flamboyant, but talented lead dance instructor. Plus, I woke up with the headache from hell this morning, and I’m pretty sure I’ve overdosed on Advil. A wave of dizziness washes over me. I grip the sides of my violin, closing my eyes and grounding myself.
    “Are you all right, Ballentine?” Julia, my fellow violinist, asks, her face blurring in and out. Oh shit. I’m so going to kiss the floor. What the hell?
    “Sure I am,” I lie, my tongue tasting dry and feeling thick at the same time. Meanwhile, my head gets lighter as though someone inserted helium inside of my brain.
    “I don’t know. You’re like turning green.”
    I attempt to respond, but instead, the room starts spinning and nausea rises up in my throat. The next thing I know, the darkness surges in from both sides of my vision and shouting erupts around me.
    I fall into a dream-vision. I’m lying in bed with a gorgeous man as he kisses me deeply, the same one who frequents my dreams. From the way he’s kissing me and the intense sensations flowing through my body, I can tell he’s no stranger. I run my hands through his dark, wavy hair, pulling back to glance into kind, blue eyes that are the tiniest bit slanted along the edges, marveling over his plump lips, which are swollen from all of our kissing.
    The dream progresses further as I get up to make him eggs—sunny side up, his favorite way—and he tells me that he’s going to check the mail. As I attempt to walk away, he pulls me backward, so that my ass is pressed against him, kissing the back of my neck as he does so. The gesture both tickles and turns me on, and I can feel the love inside of my heart. There’s a knock at the door.
    What is this thing I’m inside? A dream? A vision? It feels so real.
    “I’ll get it, love,” he says in a British accent, making it the first time I have ever heard him speak. As he pulls away and walks out of the kitchen toward the front door, a strong sense of dread slams into me. I know something bad is about to happen, yet I don’t know how I can sense this. A terrific crash roars through the front room, and I can hear men scuffling and fighting.
    I drop the vase of flowers I’m holding and reach into the