Chapter Twenty-four
Sylvie had scooped Sam up and driven him home, and Ellie had had her story read – speed-read because it was late and Alex was aware that nine o’clock was fast approaching and he had no intention of missing a second of Dracula. Not a second.
He raced back down the stairs, grabbed the last glass of red wine left in the bottle and settled himself on the sofa.
Tonight had been so perfect; Ellie had curled up in her bed, warts and all (she had point-blank refused to take them off) and with such a satisfied smile on her face, that he had to declare their first ever Cornish Halloween a complete success.
Although he had a horrid feeling she might never eat another apple unless it was presented to her in a bowl of water first.
He looked across at the blanket Sylvie had left on her end of the sofa. It wasn’t very manly, but it was practically November. He grabbed it, and the remote, turned on the TV and found Dracula just in time.
As he covered himself in the blanket, he could smell the very scent of her. He scrunched it up, lifted to his face and breathed deep. This was ridiculous. What had happened to Alex McKenzie, man’s man? A couple of months in Cornwall and he was watching ballet and sniffing blankets.
The music started and before he knew it he was hypnotized.
He had always imagined ballet to be pink and white tutus and gentle romance.
This was not that. This was black and red and smoke and suspense.
The dancers were incredible the way they flung themselves across the stage.
How they managed to do what they were doing with their toes, let alone their entire bodies, was beyond him.
Surely no one with normal joints could possibly do that?
The story was dark, compelling, and he was pulled right in when there, and with no warning, his Sylvie was dancing across the screen, red hair loose, eyes fixed and convoluting her body with such a sensuality he didn’t know what to do with himself.
He couldn’t pull his eyes away, entranced by her movement, her fluidity.
She was like nothing he had ever seen. How could someone flow like that?
Contort her body into such extreme positions, practically fly through the air as if she were on wires?
Not to mention that every movement was so goddamn sensual.
And then be doing the walk to school as if she was just like everyone else?
The power behind her body was phenomenal and as Dracula came up on the stage, all ebony and scarlet, power and threat, Alex wanted to be able to jump in, rescue her from what was inevitable.
His glass remained in his hand, untouched as he just stared at the screen, forcing himself to remember this was a well-known story and that she was playing a part.
As Dracula seized her and the two danced a battle of wills, he found himself both enchanted and wildly jealous.
He wasn’t used to jealousy, hadn’t really experienced it since school.
But right now, he could imagine her twined around him like that, twisting her curves across his body.
Not in opposition but in tandem, meshed together, moving in rhythm…
He realized how tightly he was gripping the stem of the glass and knocked back the remaining liquid whilst reminding himself that her performance was exactly that, and jealousy or lust were not emotions he could afford to feel right now. Yet still he couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.