Page 5 of The Virgin's Dance
Pilot continued his shooting while the dancers practiced. After working at the barre, Celine had them showcase their leaps and jumps for him. “And, Boh, if you could finish for us with your triple pirouette and into arabesque.”
At the end of the jetés, his girl stepped forward, all grace, and executed a flawless pirouette and finished in the classic pose of arabesque. Every line of her body was exquisite, down to the placement of her fingers. Pilot sucked in a deep breath.
He had found his muse.
Chapter Four
As Boh left the studio, she couldn’t help glancing back at the man talking to Celine. The way he had looked at her … if any other man had looked at her like that, she would have frozen, gotten distressed, and panicked. But this man …
It was his eyes. Bright green, and large, his thick dark brows making them intense, dangerous, sensual. A line between his brows made it look as if he was frowning or troubled until he smiled. Then his entire face lit up, became boyish, almost beautiful. He was the sexiest man she had ever seen, and she felt it everywhere.
Lexie nudged her. “Somebody made an impression.”
Boh grinned at her and lowered her voice. “So you noticed too?”
“Everyone noticed, Boh. It was almost a cartoon double-take he did. And he’sgorgeoustoo.”
“Old enough to be your father,” Serena butted in, obviously listening to them as they made their way to the changing rooms. “And you, Dali, don’t go thinking you’re something special just because a man gave you the eye. He’s a superstar—he’s probably had more supermodels in the last week than you’ve had successful triple pirouettes.”
“Serena, your bitch is showing.” Fernanda, the mild-mannered guest dancer from Ecuador spoke then, and Serena flushed with anger, muttering something under her breath. Fernanda stopped and gripped Serena’s shoulder. “What did you say?”
Serena smiled nastily. “You heard.” She wrenched her shoulder from Fernanda’s grip and stalked off. Boh sighed. Serena’s attitude had gotten even worse lately, and she wondered why Fernanda had got involved. It wasn’t like her. She looked questioningly at her friend now and Fernanda shrugged.
“Sometimes she just needs to hear shut the fuck up from someone new, you know.”
Boh and Lexie laughed and Fernanda grinned. “Come on. We’ll be late for Kristof.”
After the noise of the class, the studio rang with silence as Pilot laid out his Polaroids on top of the piano and studied them. He noted down several of the dancers he’d like to photograph, choosing them for the clean lines of their bodies, but really, he was trying not to concentrate on the last three pictures.
Boheme.Boh. The way her body moved through the air, her curves made as gracefully as the pin-thin dancers. Strong, athletic, and almost otherworldly. He knew enough about ballet to know her body type wasn’t the preferred willowy waif. Her body was all woman, the result of a finely tuned workout program, he guessed, along with a healthy appetite. He found her thrilling. Her poise and grace were reflected in the natural beauty of her face, devoid of make-up and with a fine, dewy sheen of sweat making the light sparkle from her …
Calm down, man.Pilot sucked in a deep breath but his stomach was in knots. The old feeling. When he knew he’d found someone who could radiate sensuality, strength, and above all artistry through his lens. He would gladly photograph the rest of the dancers for the company, to help with their publicity, but he would ask Boh to work with him for his exhibition.
He went to find Nelly, who was delighted he had enjoyed the class. “The dancers are astonishing,” he said honestly, sitting down on her desk. “There were a few who really stood out … here.” He handed her a set of six Polaroids and she sorted through them, nodding.
“Grace, Lexie, Jeremy, Vlad, Fernanda, and Elliott. Oh.” She looked up at him curiously and he knew what she was thinking. He grinned and handed her the last three Polaroids.
“I said they stood out. But there was one who blew the rest out of the water.”
He saw Nelly’s shoulders relax as she looked at the pictures of Boh. She nodded and smiled. “I knew it. I knew you would like her. She’s something else.”
“That she is,” he said and Nelly chuckled.
“Crushing?”
Pilot pretended to look affronted. “Please, I’m a professional. I’m also a man, and who could blame me? But seriously … I have a proposition.”
Nelly gave him a mischievous grin. “God, we’re not talkingPygmalion, are we? I already have Machiavelli on staff.”
“Ha, no, not quite. Listen, I told you about the Chen Foundation exhibit?”
“You did …ah, I see. You want Boh to be your muse?”
Pilot nodded. “If she’ll agree. It would mean working around her ballet schedule, of course, and she may not want to put in the extra hours. I’ll pay her, of course … and on top of that, I’ll do your publicity shots free of charge.”
Nelly’s eyes bugged. “No, Pilot, I couldn’t …”
“Look at my eyes,” he said, with a grin, “If you can tell me you’ve seen me more excited about a project than this, I take it all back.”
