Chances (Mystic Nights #1)(10)

But it wasn’t fast enough. He could hear Peter asking his indecent proposal to Aliya behind their retreating backs. “If you ever want to talk more about your plans before the meeting, Aliya, please do not hesitate. My office is always open for you.”

Jonathan did not wait to hear anymore. He began to escort Myrtle out of the theatre. He was done with Aliya Chance.

*

Or so he thought.

“We need more dancers. Male dancers. Bobby’s knees are shot, and Gabe spends way too much time chasing skirts, drinking, and God knows what else. Our performance of ‘The Trail of Tears’ is beginning to suffer. It really depends on men, strong male dancers.”

Jonathan sat behind his massive oak desk. Aliya was perched over it, still in costume. Her breasts were heaving below her traditional native dress. He could see the rise and fall of them, and it brought back all the memories of their one night together. Thoughts that he’d been able to push out of his mind during the day for the last two weeks, but not so successfully at night. Not when her breasts were right there in front of him. Hell, if he stood up right now, she’d know what he was thinking about instead of focusing on her words.

“Can’t you just choreograph around that?” he sighed. He was repeating himself. He knew it. He’d said that twice already.

“No, I can’t. Not without the performance suffering. Eve told me I needed your okay before posting the positions. We can use Bobby, but not in the role he’s been playing, and frankly, you need to fire Gabriel.” She crossed her arms in front of her in an angry gesture that only further enhanced her already ample endowments.

“Fine.” He gave up. He wasn’t getting anywhere with her in this conversation. And if she didn’t leave his office soon, he was going to do something pretty drastic. Like clear everything off his desk in one sweeping motion and take her right there. Yep, that was where his thoughts had wound up. He’d make a complete ass of himself. “Fine. Send Gabriel to me. And, put the ad out.”

He remained behind his desk, his cock throbbing. He hoped she’d just leave, but to his dismay she sat down instead. And of all the f*cking luck, she crossed her legs causing the hem of her dress to ride even higher. “Thank-you,” she heaved, and smiled. Her look of satisfaction almost undid him. He glanced at his desk top thinking about what would get ruined if she stayed much longer.

“Was there something else?” he asked, trying to sound annoyed when it was more like sexual frustration that needed to be taken care of. And soon. Her countenance went from anger to anxiety in a fraction of a second. She looked nervous and he watched as her small even white teeth began to worry the side of her top lip. His mouth went dry. Damn this woman, and the spell she had him under. He cursed his luck. She shifted her position, and he nearly groaned and choked at the view. Her legs were beyond fantastic.

She let out a small sigh, but didn’t pause for long. “I . . . I . . . also wanted to apologize. For blurting all that out when the council members were here. I . . . wanted to reassure you, I plan to fulfill my contract. I need this job to save enough to repair and fix the studio I plan on starting.”

He gave himself a moment to calm down. Tenting his fingers under his chin he leaned forward at his desk relieving a bit of the strain he was feeling. Nodding, he started. “Okay. That is good to know.” She gave him a small smile. She was utterly breathtaking when she smiled. God, he wanted this woman.

“And, I also wanted you to know, I could continue part time afterwards, if you still needed me.”

Still needed her? God, did he need her.

“Aliya, go out with me.” He just blurted it out.

She sat ram rod straight in her chair. The suddenness of the change in direction of their conversation caught her completely off guard. She began to fidget in her seat and looked about nervously while she twisted her hands in her lap. He could feel the attraction, and knew she felt it, too. Her hesitation was telling. He was always good about seeng a person’s tell. He hoped she would give this a chance. Whatever it was between them wasn’t one sided. And it wasn’t finished. That much he knew.

“I don’t give many people second chances, Aliya. I know you are single. No boyfriend, you live alone. A date, a real one?” He suggested it, rather than demanding it. He wanted to make it clear it was just not about sex anymore.

Again she remained quiet. He saw a flash of pain cross her face before she tried to hide it from him, and then her almond shaped eyes were on him. It nearly took his breath away. She leaned forward. Her hair in a thick braid came forward over one of her delicate shoulders, and he wanted to tug on it, feel the weight of all that hair bound and plaited. She licked her lips before speaking. “I’m just so busy. I’ve got one class to finish. I’m writing my proposal for the council.” He sensed it was an evasion. He wasn’t ready to surrender just yet.

“I’m busy too.” He looked around his office. “Everyone’s busy. That is life.” He gestured around his office. Stacks of files and printed out spreadsheets were scattered across the room. He was still dealing with the accounting fiasco and was examining the books themselves. But he kept his focus on her. She was breathing erratically. Small pants.

“I’m just not interested.” Her eyes darted everywhere and refused to meet his. Hard or not, he got up and rounded his desk. He stood before her, and she was forced to look up or stare at his crotch. His arousal was still evident. She felt the same way every time he was near. Her * clenched. She’d dreamed about him every night for the past month. It was torture.