Page 4 of Twilight Echoes
He couldn’t come right out and tell her she was his fated mate. That would be insanity. A trip down memory lane would be a good start as long as it didn’t push her into accepting him as her mate.
He handed her the image of them dancing, wishing he had more than one snapshot. They had performed flawlessly in front of her class. The other students he’d done the same routine with didn’t have that special something that she had.
Still had.
“Oh my God,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning upward, lighting up the room. “I can’t believe you kept that, much less even remember me.” She blinked, her thick eyelashes fluttering over her light-cobalt eyes. Tiny specks of fairy dust flickered from her lashes.
She waved her hand as if she were swatting a fly.
He had no idea she was a fairy. He filed that information in the back of his brain.
“You remember our dance?” he asked as his heart swelled with pride. Now that they were adults, the attraction kicked in as if he were a horny teenager. But he was a man, and he could control his animal instincts.
He hoped.
“Like it was yesterday.” She turned her attention to him. “But I’m surprised you do. I was five years old. I was just a little girl. A baby. And you were already headed off for greatness.”
“So were you.” He winked. It was impossible for him not to flirt with this vision of beauty.
His mate.
The creature he was destined to be with for all eternity.
If he lived long enough to enjoy the concept.
“I’m stunned.” She smiled, staring at the image. “You left the studio shortly after that, but I watched your career as both a dancer and a choreographer. You made me believe I’d be a star.”
“I always knew you would be,” he said, biting back a smile. He’d never wanted to be in the spotlight, but he was smart enough to know that if he wanted to make it as a choreographer, he needed to spend a few years onstage.
Avery enjoyed the spotlight, so hanging up the pointe shoes would be a major adjustment, but she could do other kinds of performances that would keep her passion for the art stronger than ever.
“Dancing with you that day sealed my fate. I remember feeling like I was floating on air. But you made all the girls look as good.”
His breath hitched. Could she possibly know? He didn’t see how unless maybe she sensed something, but there was no way she could possibly feel the deep connection he had.
Not yet anyway.
But she will, and he prayed he wouldn’t have to break her heart by dying.
More fairy dust flowed from her fingers. She wiggled them, as if to call the stuff back to her body.
He stared at it. Back then, fairies were a mere myth.
Interesting.
“No. You were something special. It was a privilege for me to be paired with you that day.” He leaned closer. “It was you who made me look good.”
“I thought I loved to dance before that day, but when the music stopped and you left, I knew I was meant to be a ballerina.” Her enthusiasm coated the sound of her voice like warm butter melting in all the nooks and crannies of an English muffin.
“I’ve enjoyed watching your career. You are so incredibly talented,” he admitted, stretching his arm over the back of one of the chairs between them, wishing she were closer. “And I do look forward to working with you.”
“Why do I sense abutcoming?” When she handed him the picture back, he took advantage of the opportunity to touch her soft, velvety skin.
The fairy dust circled his wrist and settled into his pores. It eased the pain in his joints, making him feel young and vibrant again.
He’d yearned for this moment for so many years.
If she sensed it, perhaps she already knew. But he wasn’t sure he could take that risk. Not sitting in the audience during rehearsal. He held her hand, fanning his thumb over her soft skin, staring into her orbs of desire.
