The Last Dance (15 page)

Georgina turned on the small television in her living room.
Dallas
reruns were playing. It didn’t matter what was on; she just wanted the background noise while she ate. Eating alone sucked. Living on vegetables and protein sucked. If her knee wasn’t sore, she would have walked to the shops for a loaf of bread. She would eat two slices with butter and jam. That had been her treat after school when she was a little girl. Her grandmother always made her a milky tea and toast and jam and would sit and listen to her day.

Georgina closed her eyes. God, she missed her. She had not been there when she died; she was in ballet school in New York. Her teacher took her aside after rehearsal to tell her. She told Georgina to fly home for the funeral. But she hadn’t because she did not want to miss class. Auditions were coming up, and she needed the edge. She could not take the time off. Shame filled her at the memory. Her grandmother had meant the world to her, but she was too self-absorbed to go to her funeral. That was when it had started, her single-minded focus to be the best at any cost. She could not blame Pavel. That was on her.

Georgina washed her dishes and then decided to take a bath to get herself together. She sighed as she sank into the hot water. Bubbles lapped around her breasts. She gathered them to her chin and then slowly pushed them away when she realized the soap smell made her think of Roman.

She stared up at the crack in her ceiling, tracing it with her eyes.
So this is what relaxing was.
Clearly she was doing it wrong because she could not see what everyone was talking about. She did not know what to do with all this time. She liked her hours filled. She hated having time to sit and think. She sat in the bath until her skin wrinkled and the water had turned cold. It was only 9:00. She should be onstage right now. Without a performance she was lost. There was nothing to do.

Sleep. She would sleep. She could not think if she was asleep. She stood up and stepped out of the bath. Water dripped from her fingertips onto the cold tiles. She should mop it up because it wasn’t warm enough for water to evaporate. If anything she would find the drops frozen in the morning. She didn’t even care.

Georgina dried off and pulled on a purple flannel nightgown. She had become accustomed to sleeping nude. But Roman had always been by her side then. If she tried that in her own bed, she would freeze to death. If she died, someone would find her eventually. Her neighbors would be interviewed on the news and talk about the sad ballerina. No doubt Mrs. Bobrova, her nosy upstairs neighbor, would have a lot to say. She could tell the media about the men coming and going from Georgina’s apartment and her early morning walks. People could speculate, but no one would ever really know. Just how long would it take for someone to find her? Georgina shook her head to dislodge the thought. She was being macabre.

Georgina noticed a strange shadow on the wooden floorboards. She glanced up at the dome light fitting above her. It needed to be dusted if it was creating shadows. She squinted when she spotted the small transmitter perched on the ledge of the light.

Motherfucker
.

How long had it been there? She did not look directly at it. Based on its placement and size it was a video as well as audio recorder.

Roman.

Was he watching her now? Or was he fucking some other woman? Rage boiled in her at either scenario. How dare he? She knew it wasn’t Pavel. Pavel had been her handler for over a decade, and he had never bugged her. She would know. Pavel wanted to keep as much distance as he possibly could from her, so if it all went to shit, it would not be traced back to him. And in a very perverse way he trusted her because they both knew what would happen to her if she betrayed him…the way she was betraying him now with Roman.

There was no trust with Roman, in either direction.

Anger simmered into molten determination. If Roman wasn’t watching her now, he would be later. Time to give him a show.

She took the rubber band out of her hair and undid her braid to allow her hair to fall loose down her back. Roman loved her hair. He’d never told her that, but she could tell. When he thought she was sleeping he wrapped tendrils around his finger. And sometimes in the morning he sat and watched her brush it.

She stripped off her nightgown and tossed it to the floor. She lay down on top of the duvet. The material was cold. Her nipples hardened to tight pink knots. The room was freezing. Her skin tightened in the frigid air. Every fine hair on her body stood taut. Her nipples would have responded regardless because of what she was about to do. Anticipation shot through her. This was private, intimate…and he was watching.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her heart assaulted her ribs in protest; this was too intimate. She pushed the thought down.

Georgina stroked her breasts, gently as first and then cupping them firmer the way Roman did. She rolled her nipples between her fingers until they could not get any tighter, and then she tugged them. Ripples of sensation darted over her body, settling in her clit, exactly where she wanted them. She worked over her breasts until her breathing had changed. She could come now with the slight touch of her clit, but she wouldn’t yet. The show had just started.

She lowered her hand between her thighs. She was wet. She dipped her fingers into the molten heat, circling the opening of her body. It felt divine, but she would not come like this. It kept her in a holding pattern of pleasure so she could prolong the experience both for Roman and herself. When she closed her eyes, it was his face she saw above her. He was touching her. He was going to make her come.

But he would never know he was the one who made her come.

Georgina glided her hand up farther. She moaned when her fingers found her clit. Slowly she circled, the pressure building with each stroke. She did not have to be gentle; she was too aroused to need to hold back at all.

Divine pressure built in her, pushing her higher. Her head fell to the side. She was about to come now with Roman watching. This show was for him.

“Pavel,” she cried out as she came. “Oh God, Pavel. Just like that.” She thrust her hips into her hand as wave after wave of pleasure crashed against her.

She wiped small beads of perspiration off her forehead and sighed. That should do it. Georgina let herself enjoy the sweet satisfaction of her release for a few minutes and then she stood up and got dressed. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a hammer and a chair.

Georgina stood on the chair below the light. She looked directly into the camera and smiled and then blew a kiss. She used the claw of the hammer to fish out the recording device and knock it to the floor.

She was glad she had bought the hammer to hang up pictures. It was useful for other things too. She swung, connecting with the bug on her second attempt. The plastic shattered, sending shrapnel across the room.

Georgina eyed the carnage. She picked up the pieces and tossed them into the trash before she turned off the light and climbed back into bed. Hopefully Roman enjoyed the show. He hated Pavel even more than Georgina did. She saw it every time his name was mentioned, and that was precisely why she called his name when she came. She only wished she thought to call Pavel’s name when Roman was inside her.

Roman was probably with someone else right now.
Asshole. Damn him
. Damn her for giving a shit about anything he did. She didn’t. No, she was just in a bad space because of her career. It was never Roman.
Never
. It couldn’t be.

* * * *

The sound of the doorbell pulled Georgina from her sleep. She didn’t remember falling asleep. She was frozen even under the duvet. Her teeth chattered as she threw back the cover and pulled on her nightgown.

The doorbell rang again, followed by violent pounding. Georgina looked through the peephole even though she knew it was Roman. The smug satisfaction she felt turned to fear when she saw the murderous contempt painted on his harsh features.

Georgina froze. She had pushed him too far. She had forgotten exactly who it was she was dealing with. But why did he care? He had just been fucking another woman. They weren’t in a real relationship. He had made that abundantly clear over and over.

Roman swore in Russian and pounded on the door; the hinges vibrated with each violent assault. He was going to break the door. Better the door than her.

This was the real Roman. If there was any question, now she knew.

“Were you in on it from the beginning?” he yelled.

Georgina’s heart jumped into her throat. He was going to blow her cover. And then Pavel would kill her. Georgina swallowed hard. Either way she was in danger. At least with Roman, it would be immediate. There was some comfort in that.

She unbolted the door. Before she had a chance to take off the chain, Roman had burst through. His massive body filled the doorframe. “Tell me,” he demanded.

Georgina’s eyes narrowed in confusion. What was he talking about? She smelled the alcohol on him. “You’re drunk.”

Roman grabbed her and pulled her hard against his chest. “Tell me.”

Georgina did not pull away. She was scared, but she craved his touch, even in anger. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Keep your voice down. Someone will hear us.”

“Who? Who are you worried about hearing us? Your lover. Say his name.” His breath was hot on her. She shivered as it cooled.

“You’re drunk, Roman. Go home. Or better yet go back to her. Your mistress can deal with you tonight.” She ground out the words. How dare he be jealous about Pavel when he was bedding another woman?

“I tried to stay away.” His deep voice broke with the strain of emotion. “I tried. I can’t. I can’t have you. But I can’t stay away. What are you doing to me? There is no one else. Only you, Georgina.”

Her pulse raced. Her hands were slick. Heat radiated from her core. He was lying. He had to be. But God, she wanted to believe him. The things she would do to make it true. “Show me that I’m the only one,” she whispered against the scarred skin of his neck. Her hands went to his zipper. She undid his trousers. She stroked his hard length, proof that for at least right now, she was his only woman.

Roman lifted her effortlessly. He kicked the door shut and pushed her back hard against the wall so he could guide his cock into her. She bit into her lip as he filled her. She tasted blood, but she didn’t care. This went beyond pleasure. Her need was primal, to have him deep inside her, to be his if only for right now.

Over and over he pounded into her. There was little Georgina could do but take each brutal thrust. It hurt, but the pain was paired with an exquisite pleasure. Carnal tension built in her, ready to explode. She screamed his name as she came.

Roman continued to pump into her, finding his own release. Each thrust was agony now because her body was too tender from her orgasm, but she loved it. She would never ask him to stop; she needed this. They needed this.

Roman groaned as he came hot inside her. He pushed a lock of hair out of her face and kissed her until they were both breathless. Still hard inside her, he moved them to the couch.

She rested her head in the crook of his neck. This was where the illusion shattered, after they had both used each other. Not this time. He wasn’t going to shut her out.

Georgina pulled back. “Pavel is my handler, not my lover. I have not seen him face-to-face in years.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed as he processed the information, as if he was trying to decide if she was telling the truth. “Why? Why did you call his name? Why did you let me think you were lovers?”

“Why did you tell me you were spending the night with your mistress?” Georgina asked in return. “We both lied.”

Roman twisted one of her curls around his finger, the way he did after sex, before he turned to his cruel self again. She wasn’t going to wait for the transformation. She was already on pins and needles. Georgina climbed off his lap and pulled down her nightgown. “What are we doing, Roman? What is this?”

When he did not answer she turned to leave the room. “Go home, Roman. I am too tired for games tonight.”

Roman stopped her. “I don’t know. This isn’t what I expected.”

Georgina sighed. At least he was speaking to her. “What is going to happen to me? I need to know. I want to go home when I finish dancing. Can I? Will I be safe?” She didn’t know how to ask him what she really needed to know. She took a deep breath. Now was not the time to be coy. “What will happen to me when I am no longer of use to you?” There, she had said it. It was out there, the question that hung between them.

Roman stroked her face with his callused hand. “I’m not going to kill you, angel. That is what you are asking, isn’t it?”

Silently she nodded.

“You are safe from me. You will always be safe from me,” Roman vowed.

Georgina let go of the breath she was holding. She believed him. Somewhere in her heart she’d already known the answer, but she needed to hear the words. Reason told her that if he were going to kill her, he would have done it the night they met.

So then she only had to worry about one Russian killing her when she was no longer in play.

“Let me take you to bed,” Roman said.

Georgina closed her eyes. “Why, Roman? What’s the point?”

“Because I want to hold you.”

Georgina shook her head. “No. You said we didn’t need to fake it when we are alone. I’m done pretending.” She was slowly going mad; she could not even trust her feelings anymore.

“So am I.”

Georgina blinked. It was not the response she’d expected.

Roman took her hand. “I am spending the night because I want to. You will enjoy it because you want it too.”

“And then tomorrow? Will we ignore each other, or will you just be cold? I can’t do that anymore.”

“I think I have proved that I cannot ignore you.”

Georgina smiled weakly. She allowed him to take her hand and lead her to the bedroom. She was too tired to fight, and she was scared that if she pushed hard enough, he really might go. Roman stripped off and slid into bed. Georgina admired the way his muscles flexed when he moved. God, he was beautiful.