But could Dolokhov really be that nice? A part of me really wants to believe it...
Squeezing water out of my hair, I wrap the towel around me before cautiously walking out, leaving wet foot prints in a trail. Looking around, I search for Dolokhov when I catch him standing by the square window.
I flush, realizing he’s watching me in the reflection and he turns around, seemingly not feeling guilty at all for stomping in here while I’m defenseless and butt naked. Walking over to my locker, I start fingering my clothes but I can’t dress while he’s still here and I turn around, only to see that he’s standing too close for comfort.
Smirking he rasps, “Do I make you uncomfortable, little ballerina?”
“Maybe,” I whisper and he takes a step back. Reluctantly. I breathe out and he seems bothered by my relieved reaction, watching me with narrowed eyes. But what did he hope that I was going to do?
Welcome him with open arms? Throw myself around him and cling like...um, I deep down want to cling?
With a final glance, he sits down on the opposite bench of me, spreading his legs and leans back and puts his hand on his thighs. It’s a position that makes him look less dangerous and to my surprise I find myself easing.
Probably just what he wanted.
“I watched you dance this evening,” he says and that accent of his gives me shivers before embarrassment floods me.
“Did you suffer?” I murmur and he frowns. “You must have, tonight was probably my worst performance.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “The other dancers paled in comparison. Both to your beauty and to your dancing.”
His praise floods me with warmth, making me feel like my body is opening up to him.
“T...they did?”
Dolokhov nods firmly as if he’s an authority on ballet. Maybe he is? He is Russian after all.
“I thought I sucked tonight,” I say, trying not to pout. “Now I’m even worrying that I might be hanging loose in the company.”
“I would not worry if I were you. You might even rise to the ranks of a prima ballerina before you know it.” He flicks me on the nose like I’m a little kid and I almost melt right there and then on the cheap, tile floor.
He’s building castles in the air for me, but it’s only making me like him.
“Are you a ballet connoisseur, Mr. Dolokhov?” I ask softly but he shakes his head.
“Tonight was my first show,” he answers and I scowl, about to put my hands on my hips but I can’t because then my towel would slide. “And don’t call me Mr. Dolokhov. Call me Alec.”
My heart falls at that. The head of the brotherhood wants me to call him by his nickname. What is going on...?
“Alec...” I say in a careful voice and his eyes flash like he likes hearing me say it like that, “why are you here?”
“It is about your...friend.” He says the word with some difficulty but I’m already getting excited, my pulse quickening. “I have thought this through and I have decided to agree to help you.”
I push my hand up to stop my trembling lips, before emotions flood me. I can’t contain myself and I yelp in relief, throwing myself at him, snaking my arms around his neck, shoving my chest against his and regret it instantly.
He’s so, so cold...Ice that seems to be seeping out of his skin enters into mine and I shudder, about to pull away when his arms lock around me and I gasp for a breath. A flare of panic runs through my body when it feels like he’s never going to let me go.
Flustered, I let out a whimper and he carefully loosens his grip. I lean back, looking at him with wide eyes, surprised that I’m slowly getting used to his body temperature. He’s so commanding, domineering and even though I never suspected I was the kind of girl to like that, I find myself responding. And it is with some reluctance that I crawl out of his lap when he lets me.
“You will do that again,” he says with hooded eyes and my mouth drops when he shamelessly adjusts himself right in front of me. “You will be in my lap again. Only that then you will not have an armor to protect you from me.”
An armor...? I look down. He means a towel and my cheeks heat. Then he does want me to sleep with him? I wrap the towel tighter around me when my body goes weak at the thought.
“I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.” My eyes meet his. “But I knew you were good deep down.”
Alec chuckles. “See, that is where you are wrong, little ballerina. I am not good.” His eyes flare in warning. “I am a very, very bad man.”
His r’s roll over his tongue and I shiver again. He doesn’t mean what he’s saying. He can’t be that bad.