AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Still, it was good to be able to count on her best friend to never make a big deal out of her exploits.
Katarina watched them impassively, and once Gabriel got to his usual volume of rowdiness and humor, warily, the haughty glare glided over him with a mix of skepticism and dismissal. A sleek and graceful cat watching a golden retriever be his rambunctious self. And that did cause Juliette to choke on a giggle, the imagery too comical yet too precise to help reign in emotions running amok. She recovered quickly under thesuspicious dark glare, masking her laughter with a cough. “Not fond of men?”
The gaze did not waver and the eyebrow stayed down. Juliette felt as if her question had won her a gold medal.
“Someone has to do the lifting in a pas de deux. Even if it’s on stage only.”
Gabriel choked on whatever nonsense he had been spouting, and Juliette smiled. Humor was so unexpected coming from the severe figure of the Soviet prima.
Still, the snubbing of men was no surprise, the way her compatriots were constantly manhandling her. Jokes aside, that protective chord of Juliette’s, the one that had started this entire mess, twanged in sympathy and wrath. Well, no more. Katarina Vyatka, with all her fury, her haughtiness, and that sadness Juliette tried to convince herself she had not imagined, would be safe here in Paris.
Everyone seemed lost for words for a long moment, watching the journalists settle in a loud gaggle outside. The Paris night, the normally quiet and placid time, was fully abuzz now, the commotion causing hundreds of darkened windows around them to light with people rubbernecking at the scenes unfolding before them on the Place de l’Opéra.
Katarina drew a deep breath, her chest rising and falling visibly. Juliette tensed. After all, she had seen it before, and that one bracing breath had been followed by one hell of a turn of events. Yet nothing came, just another breath and then another, deep, rhythmic inhalations. Juliette knew calming breathing when she heard it. She’d done it plenty before performances. Was Katarina gathering her courage?
She was still pondering why the other woman felt the need to brace herself when Katarina’s quiet voice penetrated her focus.
“I apologize for all this.” All traces of earlier humor gone now, Katarina pointed in the general direction of the brayingcrowd of photographers, reporters, and gawkers. Then she dropped her arm and lifted her face to Gabriel. “I won’t apologize for trying to save myself.”
The revelation seemed so immense, the honesty and the rawness of it so profound, that Juliette feared its consequences. Especially knowing Gabriel’s penchant for nonchalance. His usual reaction to most everything was to laugh things off. She steeled herself for the familiar guffaws, because then Katarina would claw his eyes out and Juliette would have to intervene.
Gabriel, however, surprised her. “Jett here wouldn’t let you do that anyway, even if you tried.”
Katarina looked puzzled for a moment before the right corner of her mouth twitched and a small smile played there. Juliette tried not to stare at how such a tiny emotional display transformed the austere features. Humor looked good on Katarina Vyatka. Hell, Juliette suspected joy looked amazing on Katarina Vyatka, and despite every single warning sign blaring in her head, she wanted to make this woman smile fully, self-preservation be damned.
“Jett?” Katarina’s voice was incredulous.
And now Gabriel did laugh.
“Yeah, she has been Jett ever since we crossed paths in the London boarding school as ten-year-olds. I mean, have you seen her fly?” Gabriel’s face was full of such honest adoration, Juliette’s eyes stung. “It was Juliette or Jett, and pretty much nothing else since. I teasingly called her ‘Juju Baby,’ and she bloodied my nose. I dropped the ‘baby,’ and she stopped hitting me. How did you think we ended up as best friends? A man respects a woman who can beat him to a pulp. Hence you, Mademoiselle Vyatka, and I are going to be the very best of friends.”
Katarina gave him a sideways glance.“Are we now?”
Gabriel winked at Juliette. “Oh yes, because you can probably wipe the floor with me any day, ma’am.”
He leaned on the doorjamb, a picture of insouciance, and gave Katarina his most angelic smile.
“Twice on Sundays,” was the husky reply, and then the dimples Juliette had observed from afar the other day were on full display as Katarina gave a short peel of laughter, startled and honest and rusty.
Well, damn.
Juliette almost covered her eyes. Someone should issue a warning label of some sort, because these were definitely lethal weapons on an already drop-dead gorgeous face.
Do not look without protective eye gear. Risk of damaging one’s eyesight… And one’s intelligence.
Juliette could actually feel her intellect plummet to the level of single-cell organisms. Though parameciums, amoebas, and other eukaryotes were asexual beings and probably not taken by a set of unexpected dimples on a magnificent face.
Gabriel and Katarina kept up their quiet banter, and Juliette wondered at herself. She was never shallow, never prone to objectifying a woman, and she certainly never allowed herself to sexualize an almost complete stranger. She shook her head, dislodging the cobwebs of tiredness and temporary insanity. If she carried on this way, she’d have to apologize to Katarina…who was giving her a very strange speculative look from under those butterfly-wing eyelashes of hers. Juliette bit her lip to hide a charmed smile before schooling her features and glaring at Gabriel.
“Before you give away all our secrets, maybe try and figure out where our escort is and why we’re still standing here at eleven p.m.?”
Gabriel booped her nose, but before he could try anything even more inane, they were finally joined by Lalande and a few people Juliette didn’t recognize. Francesca was not far behind.
“Mademoiselle Vyatka, as you can see, the news of your defection has spread rather rapidly, I’m afraid. You cannot return to your hotel, though we will try to retrieve your belongings. And there will be no opportunity for you to say goodbye to your Bolshoi friends.”
“I have nothing of value in my suitcase. And I understand, given the vehemence of my country to deny me the opportunity to remain in France. As for friends?” The shadow so often marring Katarina’s face returned in full force, contorting the flawless features into a mask of simmering rage. “I have no friends, Monsieur le Ministre.”
Juliette felt the strum of premonition hit the chords of her heart yet again.
