Spiraling Deception (2 page)

Mere feet from the stage, Roman could
clearly see her expressive eyes move fleetingly yet politely
through the audience before they settled on his. The instant their
gazes met, Roman felt a connection and by judging by the falter of
her smile, the beauty felt it too. Hesitantly, she shifted from
foot to foot uncomfortably as Roman blatantly seized her gaze for
several long beats with his own penetrating glare. From his
unobstructed view of the stage, Roman noted the woman was
young—early to mid-twenties at least—and possibly the most
breathtakingly beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on, despite
her being the polar opposite of his usual preference in women.

With sardonic amusement, Roman watched in
satisfaction as her broad smile completely vanished altogether as
he continued to hold her reluctant gaze captivated. Her perfectly
pink bow-shaped lips parted as she inhaled a deep, trembling
breath. With a slight shake of her head, the gorgeous princess
forcefully tore her gaze from Roman’s; her smile tentatively
returned as she regarded the aerial ribbon above her head.

After she entwined her right foot into the
silk with remarkable elegance, she climbed up, her body almost as
fluid as the silk ribbon itself. From Roman’s vantage point, he
glimpsed the flawless hue of her creamy porcelain skin. She wore a
pearl-essence leotard that barely covered her small, petite yet
deliciously curvy body and despite her long, golden-blonde hair
being swept back from her face and up high in a ponytail, it was
abundantly thick and plentiful, hanging down so low it almost
skimmed the top of her shapely ass. Just like her body, her
generous golden strands were fluid like a waterfall cascading over
the expanse of her slender body.

With every graceful move of her gorgeously
sensual form, Roman felt his cock twitch until it painfully
hardened within the confines of his suit pants. His body’s reaction
to the sight of her was comparable to that of an irrepressible
fifteen-year-old boy’s—she was quite simply that mesmerizing.

As the words of the song played out, she
arched her back seductively; her arms and legs danced methodically
in classical ballet positions as she flowed in natural harmony with
the haunting melody of the music, moving entirely as one entity
with the silk ribbon. The woman performed as if the sole reason for
her being born into this world was to dance gracefully,
intertwining that perfect little body of hers while suspended ten
feet in the air with only a sheer strip of fabric for support.

As he scanned the audience, Roman found
every last man in the room entirely enthralled by the enchanting
beauty and her performance. For some insane reason, he instantly
became possessive.

“
Fuckers,”
he growled under his breath, and then turned his
attention back to the stage.

Roman had always had a predilection toward
tall, tanned, willowy brunettes and as a general rule, he was
usually attracted to women closer in age to himself…that was, until
this evening. Along with every other hot-blooded male in the room,
Roman was entirely enthralled and completely captivated by the tiny
blonde woman.

But unlike every other fucker in the room,
Roman knew categorically, he would stop at nothing to have the
exquisitely beautiful little dancer in his bed and writhing in
passion beneath him.

Now all he had to do was ensure there were
no obstacles in his way.

Chapter One

~ France ~

“
Charli! Concentrate, for
fuck sakes!” Jake thundered down at me from up high on his position
on the trapeze. “Your arms are too loose. And your core balance is
fucking shit today.”

“
Sorry.” I mumbled
contritely and winced when I shook my arms out to the side. I’d
known my balance was off; in fact, my whole body felt weirdly
disconnected all morning. God—I prayed I wasn’t coming down with
anything. With two days to go before our troupe flew out to France
for our first-ever international performance, there was no freaking
way I wanted to disappoint the team by getting sick. I
really,
really
wanted to nail this new routine.

On reflection, it was
probably too ambitious and unrealistic to think we could introduce
a brand new routine—and a complicated one—at this late stage of the
game. But I
loved
the song we’d chosen. The new choreography, combined with the
music, would certainly be a showstopper if Jake and I could pull it
off. Correction: if
I
could pull it off. Jake nailed the routine every single time
we’d rehearsed it. After all, this was going to be my final
performance with the Amazing Lawson Performers—I wanted to go out
with a bang.

“
Okay, Charli, let’s try
this again. Watch my cues, keep count with the melody, keep the
tension in those fucking arms tight, and use your core strength to
propel your body forward this time when you take hold of my grip.
Okay?”

Jake lifted his chin and signaled Courtney
to play the song once more. Beginning the ascent, I entwined my
right foot around the white aerial silk ribbon and Jake took his
position on the trapeze. As he swung back and forth, his arms
stretched down, taut, as he counted off beats in time with the
music. I wound my way up the silk with a basic wrap climb and
reached the ideal height just as the piano intro of “Stay”—a song
by Rihanna—concluded and the chorus began.

Inclining backward, I counted off three
beats and then arched farther back, arms stretched out as I moved
into a slow triple spin.

Inverted with only his feet entwined around
the trapeze, Jake swung his body closer to mine, his hands extended
in anticipation for the catch. I reached my hands up to his; we
connected—the sound of our palms slapping together echoed
throughout the room. We swung in tandem for three counts before we
disengaged and I flipped my body down into an inverted descent,
spinning around and around the aerial ribbon.

On cue with the melody, I climbed back up
and extended into a simple split before I propelled my body
forward, closer to Jake’s outstretched hands once more. With his
strength, Jake caught my small wrists in a firm clasp and
gracefully I untangled my ankle from the ribbon, swinging in time
with Jake as he pulled me up and over his body through the
trapeze.

When Jake glided us back toward the hanging
ribbon, I released his grip and wrapped my right ankle around the
silk, preparing to execute a single-ankle inverted drop. As I
released the ribbon, I let my body fall down into an inverted
rotation, spinning around and around in precise synchronization
with the words of the song.

We nailed the rest of the routine perfectly
and just as the song drew to its closing note, both Jake and I spun
slowly, entwined in each other’s arms, down the ribbon and landed
on the floor. I giggled when Jake swept me off my feet and dipped
me backward in a dramatic pose.

“
Holy shit! That was
unbelievable, guys!” Courtney rushed over to Jake and me, carrying
two bottles of water. “You guys fucking nailed it!”

Relieved we’d finally managed to pull it off
with flawless precision, I joined Courtney in an earsplitting
squeal of elation as we did a little happy dance around Jake.
Courtney handed me one of the water bottles and then wrapped her
arms around Jake’s neck to smack him square on the lips with a
kiss. I couldn’t help grin at the two lovebirds who stared
adoringly into each other’s eyes, totally oblivious of anything
else but each other.

Jake is my cousin and one of only two
biological family members I have left in the world and Courtney’s
my best and dearest friend. Since Court and I first met in the
second grade, we’d been practically inseparable. Jake, just a year
older and a grade ahead of us, had always been included in our
small circle of friends growing up.

For the past three years, Courtney and Jake
danced around each other, constantly flirting and throwing out
innuendos every chance they got but neither of them ever really
making a move. To everyone who knew Court and Jake, it was obvious
they were head over heels for each other—they just hadn’t admitted
it to themselves.

A few years back, while Court and I were in
our last year of college, Jake finally worked up the courage to ask
her out on a date. It wasn’t long after, they became serious: Jake
proposed to Courtney six months later; then, three months ago,
Courtney discovered she was pregnant. They were both over the
moon.

During our second year of college, Courtney
and I moved into a two-bedroom condo in Los Angeles together and
when they got engaged, Jake moved in with us. All three of us
living together was a lot of fun and we had some great times but
recently and especially after the pregnancy news, I felt more and
more like the third wheel in their relationship. I loved them more
than anything, but it was getting to the point to where they really
needed their own space. Not to mention their constant public
displays of affection almost verged on mild porn, so it was time I
started to look for new accommodations.

Courtney’s eyes shined with adoration as she
whispered against Jake’s smiling lips. “Baby, you nailed it.” She
kissed him.

I grinned and shook my head at the two of
them. “Okay, this is my cue to leave you two crazy lovebirds.”

“
Charli!” Jake called out
to me as I walked away.

I turned and looked back at my cousin.
“Yeah?”

“
You were amazing up
there, kiddo.” His eyes were soft with affection and his smile was
filled with pride.

God! He was such a great guy.

“
Ditto, honey,” I murmured
and gave him a wink.

As I stood under the hot shower, I closed my
eyes and savored the heat of the water that flowed over my body and
soothed the deep ache in my muscles from yesterday’s lengthy
rehearsal session. As the steam slowly seeped into the pores of my
skin, I paused to reflect on my life—something I don’t do very
often, because moving forward and not looking back has always been
my life’s motto.

My name is Charlotte Evangeline Gilmore but
from the moment I was born, Dad called me Charli. I’d always
suspected it was because deep down he wanted a boy, but nonetheless
the nickname stuck and to this day mostly everyone calls me
Charli.

I’m not your average
twenty-five-year-old—my childhood was very different than that of
my friends growing up, but at least my height is relatively average
at five foot five. Although, if you’d ask my six-foot cousin Jake,
he’d say I was a shorty. Fortunately, I’ve been blessed with my
mom’s long, thick, golden-blonde hair and big sky-blue eyes.
Unfortunately, according to Uncle Mike, I also inherited her sassy
attitude, which often gets me into more trouble than not. And
according to
Courtney
, I tend to be too guarded, almost to the point of
indifference, especially when it comes to the male gender of the
species. But
I
keep telling her that I’ve been too busy studying for my
masters in teaching, performing with the troupe, and coaching the
younger kids at a local gymnastic club part-time to bother with any
kind of real relationship with the opposite sex. Besides, it’s not
as though I’m some naïve virgin and haven’t had boyfriends over the
years. I have—three, in fact. All were during my first couple of
years at college.

But the truth of it was—I didn’t like any of
them enough to pursue any real serious commitment with them. I
don’t let my guard down, giving a piece of my soul away freely to
just anyone. Sure, I enjoy sex and physical intimacy just as much
as the next girl. However, with the guys I’ve been dating, that
special spark that lights you up from the inside out, the
combustible chemistry and burning passion I was ultimately looking
for in a partner, was lacking. After a time, the relationships
became too hard; either the guy became too clingy, too suffocating,
or the relationship simply fizzled out.

Despite genuinely caring for my previous
boyfriends, I wasn’t in love with them and so it came to the point
where I preferred an intimate cozy night in all by myself rather
than going on a date.

Courtney, in all her wisdom, assured me when
I did finally meet that someone special, a man who sent my
heartbeat racing and lit my body on fire from his touch alone, then
things would be different. She also told me I had to actually get
out there and date to find him. I seriously doubted her. Not
everyone could have what she and Jake had and not everyone had what
my parents had either.

After my parents died in a car crash when I
was seven, I went to live with my Uncle Mike, my mother’s brother,
and his son Jake. They were the only living relatives that either
of my parents had still living. Very young, grief-stricken,
vulnerable, and completely alone, Uncle Mike—a widower raising an
only child by himself—took me in, and lavished me with
unconditional love and affection as though I was his own child. He
literally saved my childhood. Most kids don’t bounce back from that
kind of tragedy so young in life.