Page 10 of His Smile
“A soldier.” She could sense the silent wall in his voice,telling her wordlessly he would say no more about the subject.
A military soldier she wondered, or did he mean that as apart of his organization? The way he said it she could only assume he meantmilitary. Images of Roman’s tall muscular body dressed in crisp militaryregalia nearly forced a rueful groan from her throat. What she wouldn’t give tosee that? A thought struck her, was that why he kept his hair so short, wasthat a leftover trace from his military days? She wanted to ask so badly ithurt.
Childishly, she wanted to ask if he had ever been to jail orever killed a man but she felt she already knew the answers to those questionsand she was honestly too afraid to ask. She thought again at their reunion atthe airport and how dangerous and powerful he looked stepping out of thatprivate jet. He wore dark gray slacks and a plain white button-down shirt withhis gun holster on top. The long sleeves have been rolled up, revealing histhick tattooed forearms. Brown hair sprinkled the top of his wide forearmsdusting over the various colorful images drawn up and down his arms drawing hereyes to his long tattooed fingers. Rahina itched to touch them, to turn andexamine each piece of ink.
“Do you have any tattoos other than your forearms?” Sheasked suddenly.
“Yes, quite a few.”
“All over?” She had never seen his legs before but she triedto picture his strong thighs covered in tattoos.
“Mostly. I did most myself.”
“You do tattoos?” She exclaimed, sitting up in her bed shestared wide eyed at nothing in particular. “Are you serious? That means you candraw pretty good, right?”
This time she did hear him chuckle. “Yes, I can draw.”
Feeling ridiculously satisfied, she flopped back onto thebed. “I don’t have any tattoos; I could never decide if I liked an image enoughto get a permanently etched onto my skin and to be honest, I can just imaginemy mother’s reaction if she knew I had gotten one. Without a doubt, she wouldbury me in the backyard with no regrets.”
“Well, I never had to worry about that particular issue.”
“What? The indecision on permanent body artwork or a crazycontrolling mother with impossible to reach standards?” Her eyes couldn’t helpbut be drawn to her advanced biology textbook laying on her nightstand.
“Both,” he replied deeply.
She could tell there was something deeper there but she didnot press the subject, not yet anyway.
There was silence on the other hand. “I don’t hear theclanking anymore.”
“I’m in my sauna.” Naked, sweaty, probably wearing a towel,Rahina had to close her eyes for a moment at the power of that image.
“Oh, by the way, tomorrow I won’t be able to be there forlunch, I’ll be busy all day. Since I most likely will get back late tonight Iwill have to get a little bit of sleep and go into practice tomorrow. Then onceI come out of practice, I have to go home and get ready for a family dinnerthat I loathe and dread to go to.”
“And why do you have to stay out late tonight?”
“Because I can never turn down making easy money and Mario,my best friend, his job is in club promotion work. Popular clubs pay us toinvite people, to dance, and pretty much keep the party vibe going. Though, Ihave to say I am not looking forward to listening to Mario brag about how muchmoney he makes at his business and his routine attempt to convince me to comework for him regularly on the side,” she laughed just thinking about Mario’sI-told-you-so expression when he counted his proceeds for the night.
“And you do not want to work for him?” Roman inquired.
“Oh Lord no,” she shook her head. “I couldn’t imagine doingthis every weekend, at most I can only muster up the strength about twice amonth. Besides…” Her voice trailed off, as her thoughts drifted to a moreserious field of conversation. A topic she didn’t mean to bring up.
“Besides, what?” Roman pressed her to continue.
Staring again at her textbook across the room, Rahinapictured her mother’s disapproving face.
“I…I just don’t want to stray any further from the path thannecessary...”
“And what path is that?” He asked quietly. It was so quieton his end and his voice was so deep Rahina felt as if he was standing justover her shoulder.
Pulling the pillow in her arms closer, she rested her cheekagainst the cool cotton and stared at the full-length mirror on the wallopposite her. “The path of what is expected of me,” she said evenly, as shestared at her reflection. Her expression was solemn. “Education and marriage,the only two things my parents want for me. To them, my dancing career ispurely a novel distraction. It took everything I had to convince my parentsthat I wanted to seriously pursue ballet. I fear if I tell them I am doinganything else but ballet, they may just threaten to disown me altogether if Idon’t give into their demands regarding their ideas for my future,” she saidwith a dry laugh. “Just to give you an example of how they are, instead ofcongratulating me on the positive reviews of my last performance I get callsfrom my mother asking me how I did on my last exam.”
“So, tell me what you want?”
Awkwardness crept through her veins giving her an antsyfeeling all over. She still didn’t really know Roman. Telling him heraspirations felt personal as if she would be letting him past one barrier ofdefense.
With an attempt to dispel some of the quiet tension in theair she laughed. “Wow it’s quiet on your end, I take it you live alone.”
“Don’t change the subject,” he said seriously. “I want toknow what you want, Rahina.”
