Yves left in a haze of happiness but Petra paced and fretted, second-guessing, until she collapsed on the beige velvet couch. On one hand, she was thrilled by Rubio’s talent, by his consummate skill as a dancer, but on the other hand, she was too aware of him as a man. He’d made sure of it by touching her inappropriately and giving her those knowing smiles. Maybe it was a power-positioning thing. Maybe it was a Brazilian thing. Maybe...
Maybe he found her as attractive as she found him.
No. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want him to find her attractive. She didn’t want him to do anything but partner her through pirouettes and arabesques, and haul her into the air when the choreography called for it.
In the midst of her fretting, a knock sounded. She entertained a flash of fantasy, a tableau of him kicking down the door, pushing her to the couch and ripping off her leotard, and—
“Petra?”
Female voices. She opened the door to find a couple of the other principal ballerinas outside.
“Can we come in?”
“Sure,” Petra said, standing back to admit them.
“I’m Hannah,” said the taller one, holding out her hand. “And this is Suzanne.”
“Hi,” said Suzanne, grinning and waving. “So...?”
“So...?” asked Petra, smiling at Suzanne’s friendly exuberance.
“Are you going to dance here?” she asked. “We really hope you are, cause we heard that you slapped Rubio in rehearsal. Is that true?”
Petra tried hard to look ashamed. “It’s true.”
“My God,” Hannah cried. “My new best friend.” She swept Petra into an impromptu hug. “Do you have any idea how long he’s had it coming to him?”
Petra grimaced. “I have some idea.”
“Tell us everything,” said Suzanne. “How did he react? Did he go mad? Did he start raging at you?”
Petra turned out the back of her pointe shoes to dry. “He didn’t do anything. I think he knew he deserved it.”
They looked deflated to learn there hadn’t been a big scene.
“He was groping me, being sly about it,” Petra explained. “He said he was sorry and that he’d made a mistake.”
Suzanne snorted. “He’s made that mistake an arseload of times.”
“Yeah,” said Hannah, shaking her head. “And you’ll be his main partner, so you’ll probably be dealing with his ‘mistakes’ a lot.”
“You guys will still dance with him sometimes, won’t you?”
Hannah shrugged. “He’ll dance with Suzanne and some of the others, but not me. He has the option in his contract to dance with whoever he wants. He thinks I’m too tall. Whatever. I’m okay not dancing with Rubio. He can be a massive prick.”
“Aw, Rubio’s okay,” said Suzanne. “And you two will work out fine,” she added, looking at Petra, “because you stood up to him.”
Hannah gazed at Petra in rapt admiration. “I can’t believe you popped him. I heard you also called him Fernando.” She grabbed her head. “God, why wasn’t I there? I should have been there.”
Petra looked between the two dancers. “Why doesn’t he like to be called Fernando? It’s his name, isn’t it?”
“It’s his name, but we’ve all learned not to use it,” said Suzanne. “And here’s another helpful hint. Don’t accept any party invitations from him. Ever.”
Hannah burst out laughing and made a fake whip-cracking sound. “What?” Petra asked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that he doesn’t go to your average parties.” Suzanne lowered her voice to a whisper. “Now you’re joining the company, you’ll eventually hear this around the water cooler, but your new partner’s as kinky as they come. He goes to this orgy-sex-party thing in Regents Park every weekend, at his pal’s big white house. I’ve never been brave enough to try to get in and see what goes on, but I hear Rubio’s an eyeful.” She waggled her eyebrows. “If you know what I mean.”
For a moment, Petra was struck dumb. Literally, she held her breath in a kind of shock. Rubio, kinky? Attending orgy-sex-parties? She put her hands on her cheeks and then ran them down her face.
“Hey, it’s okay,” said Hannah. “He’s not that scary. Just don’t follow him to any parties at big white houses.”
“And don’t get on his bad side,” added Suzanne. “He’s a Lord-Master-Dominant, from what I understand. I mean, you know, it makes sense.”
Hannah made another whip sound and they both collapsed into laughter. Petra managed a chuckle but inside all she could think was Oh my God.
She might have guessed he was a Lord-Master-Dominant, from the way he moved, the way he commanded the attention of those around him, even the way he beckoned her by thrusting out his hand. She knew a little about BDSM, but she’d never done anything aside from fantasize about being tied up. She wondered what Rubio was like when he did BDSM with his partners. Rough? Sensitive? Scary?
It didn’t matter, because she herself was not into BDSM and she’d never hook up with him anyway, because they were partners, not lovers, and when her mother had taken her partner as her lover, it pretty much ruined her life. Petra didn’t want to lose her career, her self esteem, her heart, pretty much everything to someone who turned out to be undeserving.
She owed it to herself—and the memory of her mom—not to repeat Hillary Hewitt’s mistakes.
Chapter Four: Suck
By the end of the first week, Rubio was mentally exhausted. A new partner was bad enough. A new season, shakeups in the repertoire and line ups, all those things stressed everybody out, but he struggled with more than that. Something felt off inside his body. He wasn’t sleeping well. He dreamed at night about white-blonde hair that burned him when he touched it, and lightning-fast toe shoes skittering away, always out of reach.
Rubio felt challenged for the first time in years.
He ought to have been grateful for the challenge. Artistically, he was in a great place. Yves was happy, and the City Ballet patrons were happy, buying up tickets like crazy. Maybe he was happy. He couldn’t tell because Petra Hewitt made him so tired. When Ashleigh and Liam invited him for dinner, he almost said no, even though he enjoyed spending time with them. He knew they would ask him about his new partner and the Romeo and Juliet premiere, and he didn’t know what he’d tell them. Yes, everything is well. Yes, she is a dream to dance with.
Yes, maybe, a little bit, I am enamored of her.
“I can’t stand her,” he said to Ashleigh as soon as they brought her up. “Really, she is the biggest bitch ever.”
“Ruby,” Ash chided. “I heard she’s really nice.”
“She’s about as nice as someone who kicks dogs and drinks baby’s blood.”
Liam threw a piece of dinner roll at him. “Tell the truth. Everyone loves her. Yves told me rehearsals are going great.”
“Oh, speaking of Yves,” said Rubio, “he told me to ask if you and Ashleigh would be at the Romeo premiere.”
“Yeah, we’ll be there,” said Liam. “Mem too. The Saturday-night revels can wait until you arrive in your triumphant glory. Or...are you planning to take Petra out afterward for a romantic candlelit dinner?”
Rubio scowled at him. Take Petra out? He might as well sit across the table from a big block of ice. She was so cold to him, so standoffish.
“If you don’t want to come to the show, you don’t have to,” he said. “Is just Romeo and Juliet.”
“And the first time ever that Fernando Rubio and Petra Hewitt dance onstage together,” Ashleigh added. “Just in case you’ve been on Mars, it’s a big deal here in town. I saw one of your posters on the Tube. You looked gorgeous together.”
“Hm.” Rubio shrugged. “Probably, it will be okay. She’s a good Juliet for someone who kicks dogs.”
Ash made a face at him. “I’m sure Petra doesn’t kick dogs, although I heard some gossip that she bitch-slapped you during your first rehearsal.”