Intermezzo by Delphine Dryden Read Free Book Online

waist and shoulders, allowing only pulses instead of the frantic
beat she sought.
    “Lily,” he said softly, weaving his fingers into the thick
hair at the nape of her neck and tugging until she leaned back to look at him.
    “ Faster ,” she pleaded, but Aidan’s arm was like an
iron band at her waist.
    He shook his head. “You want to lose yourself,” he said with
effort, the strain of self-control clear in his voice, “but I’m not ready to
lose you.”
    She didn’t know what to say to that. It made her want to cry
again, but the dark thrill his controlled thrusts sent through her was enough
to drive the tears back. Lily wanted something else, but she needed what he was
giving her, a measured dose of pleasure to sustain them through the worst of
the grief.
    Last night was wildfire, an explosion, anything hot and
dangerous. Lily had no metaphor for the climax creeping up on her now, an agony
of anticipation paying off at last in a slow, sweet flush of ecstasy that
seemed to go on forever.
    She was still quivering when Aidan groaned and drove up into
her so hard she exhaled with a startled huff. A second thrust, and then a
third, Lily saw his face transform as he emptied himself into her. Back arched,
neck taut, every muscle in his sharply defined jaw springing into prominence
from the force of his climax.
    Beautiful . She longed to see it again, the
sophisticated expression devolving into sheer animal power. The knowledge that
she wouldn’t be seeing it again brought a pain no amount of ice cream could
numb.
    Lily knew she wasn’t cut out for casual flings. She thought
maybe her destiny was to be reminded of that once every seven years by losing
her head, her body and her heart yet again to Aidan Byrne.
    * * * * *
    Their technical rehearsal lasted all the next day and well
into the night. The new conductor arrived in the middle of the process and was
still conferring with David and Aidan when Lily left the theater with the rest
of the company near midnight. Aidan saw her leaving and gave her an apologetic
shrug. She knew that was all he could spare.
    If he knocked on her door later in the night, she was
sleeping too deeply to hear it.
    The following morning, the troupe enjoyed a free day in
Paris. Lily went shopping and sightseeing with a few of the dancers. Aidan was
stuck at the theater working with the orchestra and his replacement—Lily had
finally learned his name was Paolo something, and he was young but apparently
highly recommended—so she didn’t see him until the dress rehearsal. It went
better than expected, but not stellar by any means; this was regarded as a good
sign, as a perfect dress rehearsal was widely agreed to predict a weak opening.
    This time Lily was the one kept late afterward, helping the
wardrobe mistress with last-minute fixes and helping David with a hundred tiny
details that still needed seeing to. She was only able to give a wistful
half-wave to Aidan as he disappeared from the theater with Paolo and the
orchestra principals.
    The next morning over coffee and croissant, Lily asked David
if Aidan planned to stay for the opening. He looked baffled and gave her a nod
that looked more like, “Well, duh.” She didn’t have time to question him
further, though, as there were still far too many things to see to before the
show.
    There were bandages and tape and foul-smelling liniment to
stock, ready to apply to various knees, ankles and wrists before and during the
show. There were sequins to sew onto things, elastic to tighten, props and
costumes to check and double-check and triple-check. By the time Lily and the
rest of the crew felt ready for the show, she barely had time to shower and
change into the sleek black knit dress, black tights and flats she would wear
backstage during the performance.
    Long habit made her sit down in front of a dressing-room
mirror once she was dressed, and twist her hair up into a slightly softer version
of the bun she’d worn when she danced. Now she