Necromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 6) - Page 45

“As you wish.”

Why would a man like Ivan be interested in a below-average, overweight, ordinary girl like her? Out of all the women in the world, why would he choose her? She didn’t want to know the answer, not really, because she wasn’t ready to face the truth. A sudden bout of irrational anger, maybe born from jealousy, surged through her.

“Princess?”

He touched her cheek, but she slapped his hand away.

“What’s wrong with you, Alice?”

“We’re a world apart, Ivan.” She used his words against him. “Wake up and smell the roses.”

“What are you talking about?”

She jabbed a finger on his chest. “For starters, you’re famous. I’m not. You made something of your life. I’m a failure. You’re a sex symbol, and I’m overweight. You’re constantly surrounded by millions of fans. I have a cat.” She gave a wry laugh. “And it’s not even my cat.”

He opened his arms. “Come here.”

“Not now. Let me be.”

“Never.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight.

She pounded her fists on his chest, wishing he’d let go and hold on at the same time. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d never felt this conflicted in her life.

“Let me go,” she mumbled against his chest.

The vise of his arms tightened. “That’s the last thing I’m going to do.”

“Ivan, please. I beg you, if you can’t love me, set me free.”

“Shh. Let us be, Alice. No matter how hard we try, we’ll never stay away from each other.”

“What we have isn’t normal. This madness will destroy us.”

He was quiet. After a while, he said, “Then we go down in flames together.”

She couldn’t help but feel cold in his embrace.

While Ivan was busy with choreography, Alice escaped the building. She was about to enter the underground when Henry rang.

“You owe me dinner,” he said.

“Do I?”

“Since you ran out on me the last time I took you to a restaurant, you’re buying.”

“Indian?” The distraction would be good for her.

“Only if there’s Tikka Masala.”

“Majestic in thirty minutes?”

“Good. I’m starving.”

Half an hour later, she sat in a booth with Henry, listening to the challenges of rebellious teenager sons.

After a while, he said, “You haven’t said a word.” He refilled their glasses with wine and leaned back. “What’s up with this special early premiere?”

“The board decided we have a good chance at winning the theater award for the concert.”

“Ah, so you have to get reviews in before Showcase hits the shelves.” He paused. “What bothers me more is this sudden announcement that you’re singing. What prompted the decision?”

“Ivan invited me.”

“What did Johnny say?”

“Not much. We haven’t had time to talk about it.”

“Alice…” He cleared his throat. “It’s been years. You’ve never been on stage. Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Taking a huge risk?”

“The critics will make mince of you if you don’t deliver. It’s going to go back to your history, and your mother, and all kinds of dirty laundry being washed in public. Are you sure this is what you want?”

She didn’t really have a choice. “I’ll just have to hope for a positive outcome.”

He took her hand in a fatherly gesture. “If the reviews are bad and shows don’t sell—”

“The theater will close down.” She hid her face behind her glass of wine. “I know.”

The future of the place she loved more than home may very well depend on her, now. If she screwed up… Maybe that was Ivan’s plan. Knowing how much she cared for the theater, it could be part of the plot to deprive her of everything that had ever meant anything to her. A lump lodged in her throat. If revenge were indeed his agenda, it would be a brilliant plan. If she failed, not only would she have lost her body in submitting to him, but she’d also lose her grace, her honor, the theater, her job, her income and, as a result of that, her home.

“I don’t mean to sound like I don’t believe in you,” he said.

“It’s all right. I don’t blame you. You’re being realistic. I wouldn’t have expected anything less from a hardcore journalist.”

“Are you sure about this?” he asked again.

She nodded, feeling far from sure, but there was no other way.

“You made up your mind?” he insisted.

A part of her was angry with him for having so little faith in her, but at least he was honest. She pulled her hand from his. “You know what they say. The show must go on.”

“Phew.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Will you let me run an exclusive?”

“God, Henry.” She laughed. “Do you ever think about anything but your newspaper?”

“You can’t throw a big fish in front of a bear and expect him not to bite.”

“Fine, but no dirt on my mother.”

“I didn’t know your mother personally, but I know people who did. Why are you still protecting her?”

Tags: Charmaine Pauls Seven Forbidden Arts Fantasy
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