The Devil of DiRisio by Leslie DuBois Page A

his hand.  Well, I meant to slap it away. Instead, my hand lingered on his. We stared into each other eyes. I could feel his breath on my lips. Before I knew what was happening, we were kissing. Deeply. Damian’s arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against him. Our bodies melded. My mind went foggy. It took all of my energy to conjure Will’s face in my mind and find the strength to push Damian away. “No, this is wrong,” I said, trying to twist out of his embrace.
    “Then why does it feel so perfect?” He kissed me again. I could feel where this was headed. Every inch of my body could feel it. I had to stop him.
    I set both my palms firmly against his chest and pushed with all my strength. He let go too abruptly and I slipped and fell, hitting my head against the mirror.
    “Sonya,” he said compassionately as he held out his hand to help me up. I didn’t accept the gesture. I couldn’t let him touch me again. There was no telling where it would lead. Instead I stood up and ran out of the studio.
    The next day, Damian showed up at my pas de deux class.  I thought Madame Mara would get angry and throw him out.  She hated distractions.  And considering that half the girls in the class had probably slept with him already, he was quite a distraction.  But instead of throwing him out, she started chatting with him in Russian.  They smiled and laughed with each other like two old friends.  If Madame Mara wasn’t 150 years old, I would’ve thought Damian was flirting with her.  But, hey, who knows what he’s into.
     Anyway, suddenly Madame Mara called my name and instructed me to go with Damian.
    “Huh?”  was my intelligent retort.  Why would she want me to leave class?  What could he possibly have said to her to get her to let me leave? Me, of all people.   I would think she’d want me to stay the longest since Pierre and I were such horrible partners.  We needed all the practice together we could get.  I was just about to point this out when I looked over at Pierre and saw him pick his nose and wipe the booger on the bottom of his ballet slipper.  I cringed.  He had to touch me with those disgusting fingers.
    Maybe Madame Mara started to have pity on me for having to dance with Pierre.  I had lost some weight recently and he still had trouble with the lifts.  Maybe she realized that it wasn’t m y fault and was rewarding me with a day off.
    Instead of trying to determine Madame Mara’s true motivations for her sudden generosity, I grabbed my stuff and followed Damian out of the classroom. Jealous that I had somehow captured his attention, a few of the girls gave me the evil eye as I exited.  That just made me feel even better about leaving.  I was tired of being at the bottom of the barrel in this Academy. At least now, I was getting some attention. But at what cost?
    I didn’t know what Damian wanted with me. Okay, that’s not true. I think he made it perfectly clear what he wanted from me last night, but I would have taken any excuse to get out of Pierre touching me again.
    “What do you want?” I grumbled once we had left the classroom.
    “I want to apologize for my behavior last night.  It was very … ungentlemanly.”  Damian tried to take my hand and kiss it but I snatched it away.   Damian’s turquoise eyes flared with disappointment.  He recovered quickly, however, and said, “I would like very much to take you to lunch as an expression of my sorrow.”
    “That’s not necessary.  You didn’t make me do anything I –.” I was about to say that he hadn’t made me do anything I didn’t want to do, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. So, instead I said, “I accept your apology. You can go now.”
    “Oh, come on.  Please bless me with just an hour of your time.  Hey, it will be better than spending your time with him,” he said indicating Pierre with a nod of his head.  I looked inside the classroom and saw that Pierre was still digging for