Page 48 of Alexis

On the stage, a single spotlight illuminated Alexis. And as soon as his gaze landed on her, Tiago had eyes for nothing else.

Her movement was so fluid that it almost didn’t seem real. Again and again she spun, her leg extending and bending at intervals with impossible elegance.

Her hair was up in a bun, but a few dark tendrils had escaped, and they floated as she spun. It seemed almost effortless, but he knew better. The thin sheen of sweat on her forehead shimmered in the spotlight, the only sign of the tremendous effort she was putting in.

The pieces were clicking together for him now. Seeing her do this, he suddenly understood why she was lost over her injury, why she struggled so hard and fought like an animal to come back to ballet.

This was what she was meant to do.

She was beautiful and powerful. She might be able to mask that power in other aspects of her life, but not here. She owned this stage, and owned every cell of herself. Watching her was an almost religious experience.

He had lost track of how many times she spun when she unexpectedly fell out of a turn and growled out a small sound of frustration.

It was time to let her know he was watching.

20

ALEXIS

Alexis stood panting with her hands on her knees. She had fallen out of the fouettés at turn twenty-seven.

Again.

A tiny sound at the back of the auditorium had her straightening up and shielding her eyes with her hand to see if someone was there.

“Sorry,” Tiago’s voice boomed. “Oberon suggested that I stop by after my workout. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“It’s fine,” she said, feeling a little annoyed.

“I just got here while you were spinning around like a top,” he said as he got close to the stage.

His eyes were luminous with wonder, and she felt herself soften a little.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” she said.

“You were doing that the whole time?” he asked.

“Well, the last fifteen minutes or so,” she amended. “Once I was warmed up.”

“Incredible,” he said. “I wish I had your balance. I can’t believe you’re doing all that kicking while you’re spinning. On one foot.”

“On the toes of one foot,” she corrected him with a wink. “But it’s not as hard as it looks once you have the training. I’m just having trouble completing the turns.”

“Your injury?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” she said, dropping to the stage floor to stretch out a little. “I get a twinge once in a while and it scares me.”

“Your ankle hurts while you’re doingthat?” he asked, jumping effortlessly onto the stage.

“No,” she said. “Not really. I’m just afraid it will. It throws me off. I don’t want to injure it again. It would end my career.”

He nodded like he understood.

“You ever have anything like that?” she asked. “Something you just can’t push though?”

“I’m working on something like it,” he admitted. “A spinning kick I can’t nail. My trainer analyzed the tapes with me. There’s no real reason I can’t land it.”

“What does it feel like?” she asked him thoughtfully.

---