The Forever Dream Read Free

picture.
    He tossed the program back into Nina's lap. "I suppose you could say she has a certain fascination if you care for the type."
    "I thought you'd be a bit more enthusiastic. And I had an idea she'd be very much your type. She's quite a remarkable woman."
    "Remarkable?"
    "You don't find many women who'd risk climbing the Andes in a snowstorm to defect. It took a great deal of courage to attempt that gambit, let alone to pull it off." Nina shrugged. "She almost didn't make it. She was suffering from hypothermia and frostbite when she stumbled into a village at the base of the mountain. The villagers thought she'd die long before they could get medical help or summon an official at the American Embassy in Santiago."
    "But she didn't," Jared said softly. Why was he feeling this absurd tingle of pride? Somehow he knew it would take an enormous force to stem the vitality of that woman in the picture.
    "No, she didn't." There was a glimmer of satisfaction in Nina's expression. "You are interested." She chuckled. "I knew you would be. You two really are a good deal alike, you know."
    His brow lifted in surprise. "I can't say I'm flattered to be compared to a half-pint ballerina," he said dryly. "I'm afraid I can't perceive any similarities."
    "You both have a fire burning in you," Nina said slowly. "The only difference is that Tania Orlinovs flame is burning free and bright, while yours is obscured, barely discernible. Oh, yes, my friend, despite your cool good manners and your sophisticated conversation, all very distancing, I assure you, still I can sense the fire is there . . . deep within you."
    "What hogwash! I had no idea you had such a flair for the melodramatic, Nina." His smile mocked her. "But I do think I'm a little hurt that you consider me some land of ice man."
    "You're no such thing," she snapped. "And be honest, Jared. You don't give a damn what I think about
    you." For a moment her features revealed a flicker of regret, before she gave him a teasing grin. "Then, too, we both know what a satyr you are. I wouldn't dare insult your virility, or I'd be ravished before we got out of the taxi tonight." He expression was suddenly alight with curiosity. "Would you like to meet her after the performance?"
    He shook his head. "Why do I feel that your next step will be arranging a blind date for us? I think I should be a bit insulted that you're not even a little jealous."
    "What good would it do?" she asked serenely. "I know very well my place in your scheme of things. Besides, I'm quite safe being so marvelously civilized in this case. Rumor has it she's been Tyler Windloe's mistress for the last two years. Under those circumstances, you wouldn't consider it worth the bother."
    "Tyler Windloe," he echoed. "The names familiar. Should I know who he is?"
    "Perhaps. He was a steel tycoon before he became interested in the arts. He is the primary patron of the American Repertory Ballet Company, and our little Piper is its brightest star. Well, do you want to go backstage during the intermission?"
    "Ill let you know after I've seen your 'remarkable* little Russian perform."
    "She's only half Russian—her mother was Hungarian," Nina said. The houselights were dimming, and she added in a whisper, "And I think you're about to experience just how remarkable she is."
    The experience began even before the curtains swung open. The wild, haunting strains of a flute wove their magic in the darkness, teasing the senses with their beauty. The curtain slowly opened on a set as appealing as the music, to reveal the Piper, on a moonlit hilltop silhouetted against the night sky.
    The Piper was dressed only in pale gray tights, his
    supple muscular upper torso completely bare. He was more Apollo than Pan, but the anomaly only made the scene more poignantly beautiful.
    Then the quiet mysticism of the picture erupted with the excitement of a star-burst, as a slight, fragile figure bounded on the scene with a grace that caught at the heart.