14. Chapter 14
Rory
Two days later, Cal and I sat in the back of his luxurious car as Seamus drove us to Primo.
Where are we going?” I ask as I watch the familiar cityscape go by.
“It’s Monday. You have ballet,” he said as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be headed to a ballet studio on Monday afternoon.
“I can’t believe you want to come watch me rehearse,” I said, rubbing my hands on my jeans self-consciously. “It’s going to be so boring for you.”
He chuckled, the sound almost deprecating in nature. “Solas, if you only knew.” He trailed off, and I stared at his profile, but he seemed remarkably interested in something on his phone, disinclined to elaborate further.
So, naturally, I pushed for more because what in the world did that mean?
“What do you mean by that?” I asked quietly.
He made a face, half grin, half grimace, and rubbed his fingers on his temple before meeting my gaze. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it before any words escaped. When he did speak, I knew that what he said wasn’t what he’d started to say and found myself wondering what he was hiding.
“I like watching you dance. The way your body moves is mesmerizing. It’s truly beautiful, like watching an artist paint something that will eventually end up a timeless classic.”
My brows raised at his unexpected, poetic response and I grinned, fighting back a full smile. “You like watching me dance?” I questioned. Maybe it was petty, maybe it was vain, but I liked knowing he enjoyed watching me dance. I wanted to hear him say it again.
“Yes. At the party, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from you.” He seemed to be examining my expression closely, so I let the smile I’d been holding back stretch my cheeks. His eyes roamed my face, settling on my mouth for a long moment before he swallowed heavily, cleared his throat and focused back on his phone.
I smiled to myself, rolling my lips between my teeth to contain my happiness, and watched out the window as we made our way towards Primo.
When we arrived, Finn stationed himself by the front door and I went to the changing room, followed by Connor and Carson, who stopped outside the door and forbade anyone else from entering until I exited again.
Cal’s eyes gleamed with something I couldn’t name as his gaze raked my body. I wore sheer tights today, with the pointe shoes I’d worn to the party, and his gaze locked on my legs. His hands curled into fists and his jaw ticked as he swallowed. I shifted nervously and his eyes met mine again.
“You look incredible in your dance clothes.”
I blushed and glanced at the men, who were studiously ignoring us. “Thank you,” I said, looking at the ground before meeting his eyes again. “I have a private rehearsal scheduled today, but you can come in, if you want to.”
“Lead the way,” he said in that deep voice that sent mini-shivers cascading over my skin.
When we entered the room, Angelique’s eyes scanned the three men following me before meeting mine.
“C’est pres?” she asked, ignoring the men. I didn’t speak French, but I’d learned enough since I enrolled at Primo to understand her broken English.
“Oui, madame.” I took first position and waited for her to sort the music and tell me which routine to start on.
“Swan Lake, Act II,” she said, just before the music started. I met Cal’s eyes in the mirror, took a deep breath, and started the routine. I wanted to impress him. With my eyes on his, it felt like the room melted away. There was no sixty-year-old, angry French woman barking at me, there weren’t two other men watching, it was just Cal and me. His eyes stayed on mine, for the most part, but they occasionally roamed my body, stroking the bend of my waist or the arch of my leg like a physical caress.
Every time Angelique would correct my posture, tapping my knee, foot or elbow with her cane, Cal tensed. By the end of rehearsal, I was flushed and needy in a way I had never experienced before. I was breathing much harder than I normally would have after a rehearsal and knew that was because of Cal’s eyes on me.
Angelique spoke quietly to me in her broken English, using French for words she didn’t know. “Je suis désolé, mon chérie, but your père is not paying for more lessons.” She waved her hand in a circle as she tried to think of the English words for what she wanted to say. “Maybe you could teach les enfants? You teach them, I teach you?” She raised her eyebrows and nodded, obviously proud of the solution she’d come up with, but my heart sank.
“That would be fun, but…” My eyes flicked to Cal, who watched us curiously from a few feet away. “I’m getting married. I won’t have the time to dedicate to classes.” I smiled sadly at her as I lifted my bag onto my shoulder. As soon as the strap settled against my skin, it disappeared.
Cal settled the bag on his own shoulder and turned to Angelique. A string of French left his mouth, so rapidly, so fluidly that I only caught three words. Private. Money. Problem. I gaped at him and they conversed in flawless French. When she smiled and patted his arm before hobbling off, I blinked at him blankly.
“Taken care of, solas. Now, let’s go home. We have a date to prepare for,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
I quickly changed out of my dance clothes and followed him to the car.
“So you speak French?” I asked, curiosity nagging at me.
“Yes. Although it’s rarely useful, it paid off today.”
“What did you say to her?”
“I told her that I would be paying for your lessons from now on, introduced myself as your fiancé, and advised her to get used to Connor and Carson.”
“Why would she need to get used to them? You know you don’t…You don’t have to do that. I don’t need to dance any more. Besides, with the wedding planning and then married life, I’m probably going to be too busy to dance anyway.” I tried to keep my voice neutral and matter-of-fact, but melancholy slipped in at the end.
He turned to me, lifting one leg onto the seat and resting his arm along the back. “Do you like dancing?”
I waited for him to say more, because no one had ever cared if I liked it or not, but he didn’t say anything else, just raised an eyebrow as he waited for my answer. “Yes, I do. I meant it when I said dancing was a passion of mine.”
“Then you will dance. If it’s something you truly enjoy, you should be able to do it. And she’ll need to get used to them because they’ll be your security.”
My eyes widened. “My security?”
He looked at me questioningly. “Yes, your security.”
I hummed, my brows furrowing. “I think that will take some getting used to. I’ve never had my own guards before.”
Well, now you will. And they will go wherever you do. I do have one question, though.”
I knew where this was going. “About my name?” I asked expectantly. He nodded once. “When I started dancing, I used my real name, but I was at a different studio. After my mom died, Elio didn’t really want me to be affiliated with him. He had me enrolled in Primo under an Alias and paid anonymously. When I was in my teens, I appreciated the anonymity of it, because a lot of the other girls there belonged to mafia families and I didn’t really want to be associated with that life. I liked being able to pretend for two days a week that my life wasn’t my life. Then when I started driving and Elio let me drive myself, I told him my lessons had extended a few hours since I had been cast in the lead role. I used the afternoons to spend time with my best friend and her family. I was waiting for her the day you saw me at Thai Moon.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The more you tell me about Marino, the more I want to strangle him with my bare hands,” he muttered.
Something in my chest pinched at finally, finally, having someone to stand up for me. My heart softened and unfamiliar feelings, warm and cozy and comforting, heated my chest, something like a crush but much stronger than those childish emotions. He had been nothing but kind to me, encouraging me to come out of my shell and speak my mind. He wanted me to be me. Warm affection curled in my belly as I gazed at his handsome face.
“Get in line,” I said, a soft smile coloring my voice.
Cal was wearing a suit. Like a full suit, with a vest and a tie, sparling cufflinks and very shiny shoes. I looked down at the gray, off-the-shoulder sweater, black leggings and gray boots. I glanced up at him self-consciously as I stepped back into my room.
“I’m sorry. I’ll change. Just give me one second. I didn’t know it was such a fancy occasion. I’m so sorry. I can change super quick. Just one second!” When I realized I was rambling, I closed my mouth and tried to slam the door. But a hand caught it just before it latched.
“You don’t need to change. You look fantastic.” His eyes traced the curve of my exposed shoulder and his mouth quirked in a small smile.
“Are you sure? ‘Cause you’re dressed so nicely and I’m so casual and I can easily throw on a dress and it would only take me-”
“I’m sure,” he chuckled. “You look perfect.” He reached out and fingered a lock of my straight hair, running it through his fingers before gently tracing the skin over my collar bone. “Why are you so nervous?”
I picked at the skin around my thumb, anxious energy that I didn’t know how to settle bubbling under my skin. “I don’t want to embarrass you. Elio was always preaching about perfection, because if I wasn’t dressed exactly how he wanted me to be, I’d be an embarrassment. And that always ended badly for me.”
“How do you mean?” His eyes narrowed on me. I swallowed heavily but didn’t answer. He squinted but then visibly forced a smile and straightened his shoulders. “No matter. You’re not embarrassing. You look ravishing. I got you something,” he said with a raised brow.
“Like a gift?” I asked.
“Exactly.” He held up a velvet covered box. The dark red material looked soft to the touch, light shining off it softly. I swallowed and dragged my wide eyes from the box back to his. He held the box out to me and I shook my head rapidly, stepping back.
“I can’t! You can’t! You should- you should save that for someone who deserves it! Someone worth pretty jewels! Someone pretty enough to wear that!” I gently pushed his offending hand away from me. “Seriously, Cal. You should save that for like…I don’t know, your favorite mistress or something down the line. Or- I mean, or now, if you have one you like enough to be worthy of a gift like that, but it’s definitely not for me.” I rambled, putting my foot deeper and deeper in my mouth until his laughter cut me off.
He laughed heartily, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each push of air. I glanced at Finn, who stood quietly behind him, not laughing but his mouth twitched despite the slight frown on his face. My cheeks burned with chagrin and I dropped my eyes, staring at the scuffed toes of my boots, so in contrast to his own shiny, impeccable shoes.
His hand came into view and gently lifted my chin until I met his eyes, which sparkled with mirth, until he saw that I wasn’t trying to be funny. His smile fell and something between disgust and disappointment leached into his eyes. “Rory, you deserve this simple necklace and so much more. You’re going to be my wife,mo solas. It’s not only my duty, but my honor, to care for you. Gifting you things, money included, is always going to be a part of our relationship. And there will definitely, certainly, absolutely never be any mistresses, much less one I like enough to give pretty jewels to.”
I frowned. “But I can’t give you anything back,” I said in a small voice.
He smiled again, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, and I was strangely relieved to see the disg-appointed look leave his eyes. His thumb brushed my lower lip in the softest touch I’d ever felt. “You are enough of a gift, believe me, solas.” He held the box up again and I warily reached out for it.
I opened the lid slowly, nervously, and when something sparkled at me, my breath caught in my throat. A small, gold pendant with a pretty script winked in the dim hallway lights. I tilted it to catch the light better so I could make out the writing.