Command Performance Read Free Page B

discovered early on that her ambition to be an actress was never going to bear very ripe fruit, but her love of the theater hadn’t ebbed. Added to that had been her innate business and organizational skills. The Hamilton Company of Players had been born and had flourished. She didn’t appreciate Alexander the Great coming along and acting as though he were doing her a favor letting her troupe perform in his center.
    They’d performed at Lincoln Center, the Kennedy Center, the Mark Taper Forum, and to solid reviews.
    She’d worked hard to find the best, to develop talent, to stretch her own boundaries, and he came along and nodded graciously. Scowling, she hooked a thick gold collar around her neck. The Hamilton Company of Players didn’t need his approval, gracious or otherwise.
    She
didn’t need his approval or his damn royal seal. And she would be unbearably stupid to refuse to perform in Cordina.
    Eve picked up a brush and dragged it through her hair. It was then that she noticed she had only one earring on. He was making her crazy, she decided, and found the teardrop sapphire on her dresser.
    Why wasn’t Ben president of the center? Why wasn’t Brie still handling it? With either she could have been easy and relaxed. The job, if she chose to do it, could be done professionally, but without the added headache. What was it about Alexander that set her teeth on edge?
    Eve fastened the second earring in place and frowned at her reflection. She could still remember the first time she’d seen him. She’d been twenty, and though he’d been only a few years older, he’d seemed so adult, so dashing. Bennett had led her out for the first dance at the ball, but it had been Alexander she’d watched. She’d been fanciful then, Eve admitted, imagining him as just the sort of prince who rescued damsels in distress and killed dragons. He’d had a sword at his side, for decoration only, but she had seen in her mind how he would wield it.
    The crush had come quickly and, thank God, had been gone just as fast. She might have been fanciful, but as Alexander himself had said, she wasn’t foolish. No woman pinned her dreams on the unyielding and disapproving. It had been easy to turn her attention to Bennett.
    A pity they hadn’t fallen in love, she thought now. Princess Eve. Laughing at herself, she dropped thebrush. No, that just didn’t fit. Luckily for everyone, she and Bennett had become friends before they had become anything else.
    And she had the troupe. It was more than an ambition—it was a purpose. She’d watched friends marry and divorce and marry again, or simply drift from one affair to the next. Too often the reason was simple boredom. She’d never had to worry about that. Running the company would take up twenty-four hours a day if she allowed it. At times it came close, whether she wanted it to or not. If she was attracted to a man, her business and her own caution kept things from getting too serious. So she hadn’t made a mistake. Yet. She didn’t intend to.
    Eve picked up her perfume and sprayed it over her bare shoulders before she left the room.
    With luck Bennett would be back and lounging in the parlor. Dinner wouldn’t be dull with him around, nor would it be strained for very long. He added spark and enjoyment simply by being. She wasn’t in love with him, but she loved him for that.
    As she walked downstairs she trailed her fingers along the smooth banister. So many fingers had trailed there before. When she was inside the palace, she thought of it only as a place, a sturdy, eternal place. If she understood little about Alexander, she understood his pride.
    But when she stepped into the parlor and found him there alone, she tensed. Stopping in the doorway, she scanned the room for Bennett.
    Good God, she was beautiful. When Alexander turned, it hit him like a blow. It had nothing to do with the silk, with the jewels. She could have dressed in burlap and still stunned the senses. Dark, sultry,