Judy Hubbard - Our First Dance

“All right.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “See you in the morning.”

“Good night.”

Leaving her nearly untouched water on the table, she quickly left. She felt Damien’s eyes boring into her back. She wanted to turn around but didn’t. Instead she walked faster until she was no longer in his sight. She had to do something about her feelings for him, which were completely inappropriate and unexpected. She wasn’t going to destroy this chance by lusting after her boss—no matter how handsome and kind he was, and the sooner her contrary body realized that fact, the better off she would be.

Chapter 3

Several nights later, Natasha walked into the Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel on Dennis’s arm. She wished her parents and sister were here, but her father’s newest gallery was opening in Boston. They had wanted to postpone it, but Natasha had insisted they go since Erina would be with her and she would see them all in a few weeks.

She couldn’t believe she was finally on the receiving end of a party introducing her as a prima ballerina. She glanced around the brightly lit ballroom, her eyes widening farther in awe. There had to be several hundred people in attendance. She had expected a much smaller event, but Damien had spared no expense—champagne fountains littered the room, exquisitely stacked buffet tables lined one side of the wall and elaborate ice sculptures were placed strategically throughout the ornate room that housed a multitude of sculpted stone pillars and sparkling crystal chandeliers.

Some of the hottest names in the ballet world were present, and they were here to see her. She felt like a princess and though the evening had just begun, she knew it was one she would never forget.

Her fingernails dug into Dennis’s arm, causing him to wince slightly. “Hey, release the death grip.”

“I’m sorry.” She eased the pressure on his arm. “Can you believe all of this?”

“Relax,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s just a party. You’ve been to parties before.”

“Not ones held to introduce me as a prima ballerina,” she whispered back excitedly.

He glanced down into her overwhelmed face. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

“I hope not.” Her grip tightened on his arm again.

“I know I have that effect on women.” He smiled wryly. “But please don’t.”

She laughed as he intended, and her features relaxed somewhat. “I’ll try to contain my pleasure at being your date.”

“I’m surprised you asked me to escort you.”

“Why?” She stared up at him. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course, but I thought your boyfriend would bring you.”

She shrugged. “I’m not seeing anyone currently.”

“We could remedy that.” His hand covered hers as it lay on his arm.

“Dennis, don’t start that again.” She shook her head in rebuke. “We work together, and it wouldn’t be wise for us to date while we do.”

His eyes twinkled. “Do you always do what’s wise?”

“Always,” she firmly informed him.

“What about when we’re not working together?”

She smiled sweetly. “I hope that day never comes.”

“I suppose I can’t be mad at you for thinking that way.”

“No, you can’t. Now stop hitting on me and let’s enjoy the party as friends, all right?”

“Deal.” He kissed her cheek.

“Good evening, Natasha, Dennis.”

Natasha glanced up to see a slightly frowning Damien standing in front of them. A tall slender woman was clinging to his arm as if she never intended to let go.

“Good evening, Damien.” Natasha smiled at him. He looked wonderful dressed in a black tuxedo that accentuated his muscled physique.

“Hello, Damien, nice party.” Dennis shook his hand.

“Thanks.” Damien returned the other man’s handshake. “This is Shelia Reynolds. Shelia, may I introduce Natasha Carter and Dennis Brown.”

“Nice to meet you.” Dennis and Natasha spoke simultaneously and then laughed.

“You too.” Shelia coolly shook their hands.

Natasha noticed the woman’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and appeared phony—much as she did. Natasha was certain that her long straight hair was a weave and her red nails were false, as were a few of her body parts—particularly her buxom breasts that were straining against the revealing confines of the white gown she wore. She was pretty, if one leaned toward the dramatic.

“You look familiar.” Dennis focused on Shelia. “Have we met before?”

At Dennis’s innocent question, Shelia suddenly acted as if he had insulted her. Her lips thinned and she let out an audible disgruntled sigh.

“Well, I should. I’m the main character on Today’s World,” she indignantly named a top-rated reality show.

“Oh, well I don’t watch the show, but good for you.”

Natasha forced herself not to laugh at Dennis’s perfectly aimed jab. As if sensing her struggle, he chuckled and placed an arm around her waist, a move she noticed seemed to intensify Damien’s frown.

“Darling—” Shelia glanced at Dennis pointedly while pressing closer to Damien’s side “—I could use a drink.”

“In a minute.” Damien extricated himself from his date and took Natasha’s hand. “I need to introduce my prima ballerina to everyone.”

Without another word, he pulled her away from their respective dates, both of whom were staring after them, flabbergasted at being deserted.

“Should we leave Dennis and Shelia like that?”

“They’ll be fine,” he dismissively replied. “I didn’t know you were coming with Dennis.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I hope not.” He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed her one. “I don’t allow romances between members of my troupe.”

“Dennis and I aren’t involved romantically.”

“No?” Intense eyes bore into hers.

“No, we’re just friends.” At his raised eyebrow, she felt compelled to elaborate. “I didn’t have a date for tonight, and he offered to escort me.”

“I don’t believe you couldn’t get a date other than a fellow dancer.”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t get a date. I said I didn’t have one.” She took a sip of her champagne. “I’m surprised you’re not here with Rachel.”

“She’s here, but why would you think we’d come together?”

“You two just seem—close.” She watched him furtively over the rim of her glass.

“We are, very.”

“Oh, I see.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What exactly do you see, Natasha?”

She glanced away from his penetrating gaze without answering, offering him the opportunity to appreciate her appearance unobtrusively. Her black floor-length gown was simple yet sexy with its sheer sleeves, high neckline and daringly low-cut back. The material clung to her curves in all the right places; she was, in a word, delectable. Never before had he been more aware of how beautiful she was than now seeing her all dressed up.

Diamond teardrop earrings hung from her ears, and her hair was pinned back into a flawless chignon. He had the ridiculous urge to release it and run his fingers through the soft strands. That’s not all he wanted to do—her full, burgundy-colored lips begged to be kissed, which was an invitation he almost accepted.

“Come with me,” he tersely ordered, taking her hand again and leading her onto the stage. They stopped in front of the orchestra, which at Damien’s nod played an introduction, causing a hush to settle over the room.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I would like to thank all of you for coming tonight to help me celebrate and welcome a new prima ballerina to my troupe who will be dancing the lead in my next production, an original version of Romeo and Juliet. I look forward to great things from this exquisitely beautiful and supremely talented ballerina.” He turned to Natasha and raised his glass. “May I present to you all, Natasha Carter.”