Spiraling Deception (4 page)

“
We’ll be right next door
if you need us,” added Courtney, distracted. She smirked at
Jake.

Somehow, I had the feeling they’d be longer
than half an hour from the way Jake grinned at Courtney. Crazy
lovebirds—I couldn’t blame them. After all, this was the ultimate
romantic setting.

When I opened the solid walnut door to the
bedroom, I stopped and gasped in wonder.

If I’d thought the polished mahogany wall
paneling and huge, sweeping staircase adorned with medieval
paintings hung in collections along the walls that led up to
various floors had been beyond extraordinary, then this room was on
a whole other level.

It was simply quite breathtaking. And it
wasn’t just a bedroom; it was a suite—an enormous luxurious suite
bathed in warm accented creams and the softest pastel pinks. The
walls were a warm cream with elaborate wainscoting and the
carpet—also cream—was lush, thick, and springy to walk on. I
immediately kicked off my ballet flats and felt the thick, decadent
spongy pile of wool between my toes.

Heaven
.

A huge ivory four-poster bed draped in pale
shades of blush, pink, and golds—from the duvet to the numerous
matching accented pillows arranged symmetrically at the
bedhead—took pride of place in the center of the room. My gaze
caught admiringly on the large gilded fireplace on the left wall. A
colossal beveled mirror with an ornate gilt frame sat atop the
mantel and positioned on the floor directly in front of the
fireplace was a cream velvet chaise with contrasting rose pink
piping. It was the ideal place to relax and read a book or just
cuddle up in front of a fire on a cold winter’s night. My fingers
ran across the softness of the fabric as I wondered whether there
would be time tonight after the performance to do exactly that.
Wistfully, I pictured myself curled up on the chaise, a crackling
fire warming the room as I savored a glass of sweet wine.

Bliss.

Across the other side of the room against
the right wall was a double set of French doors that led out to a
traditional French balcony, complete with embellished wrought-iron
railing. Curtains that matched the fabric of the bed framed the
doors and to the side, two generously sized antique chairs gathered
around a glass-topped table and fine crystal vase bursting with a
riot of pink tulips.

The suite was whimsically enchanting, very
feminine, and straight out of a freaking fairy tale—so much so, I
half expected Cinderella to waltz in at any minute.

After further
investigation, I discovered the large bathroom, gleaming from floor
to ceiling in cream marble with veins of gold and rose threaded
through the tiling. An old-fashioned, but pristine claw-footed
bathtub with what appeared to be actual gold-plated
fixtures—
you’ve got to be kidding
me
—beckoned seductively from the center of
the room.

A sharp knock at the bedroom door abruptly
brought me out of the dreamy haze I was in and reluctantly, I left
the heavenly bathroom to answer it.

“
Charli. You have got to
see our freaking room—” squealed Courtney as I opened the door.
Barreling past, she strode into the room, and then stopped dead in
her tracks and gaped, mouth wide open like one of those clowns you
throw balls into their mouths at a carnival sideshow. She turned
around in a slow circle and took in every detail of the lavish
suite, all the while chanting, “Ohmigod! Ohmigod!”

“
Court.” I waved my hand
in front of her face.

“
And I thought our room
was the shit. Your room is straight out of a fairytale story.
It’s…It’s like Cinderella’s freaking bedroom.”

“
I know, right?” I
followed her gaze. “That’s exactly what I thought!”

Courtney skipped over to the bed and jumped
on it, bouncing twice and then swung her gaze around the room once
more. “Oh, I forgot—your bag is at the door. They brought it to our
room by mistake. Also, Jake says to tell you to be ready in fifteen
for rehearsals,” she said absently.

“
Thanks.” I retrieved my
small rollaway suitcase from the hallway and rolled it toward the
foot of the bed, wishing I didn’t have to leave my room at all.
Maybe after the show, I could slip away unnoticed and at least
enjoy a soak in the claw-footed bathtub before we had to leave
first thing in the morning.

“
You ready?” Jake
asked.

“
Yeah,” I replied between
breaths. Nerves always got the better of me right before a
performance. But as soon as the lights lowered, the music began and
I took the stage, my hand caressing the silk fabric of the aerial
ribbon, all the butterflies in my stomach would dissipate and then
nothing else existed in that moment of time.

“
Showtime, kiddo,” Jake
whispered into my ear, and gave my hand a quick, encouraging
squeeze. I watched as he confidently walked out among the crowd and
stepped up on the small raised platform erected for tonight’s show
in the center of the ballroom.

Rehearsals went smoothly and after I got
over the initial shock at the sheer size of the chateau’s grand
ballroom, I was excited to see Uncle Mike and the rest of the
troupe who were already there and going through a series of safety
checks and last-minute preparations for the evening’s
performance.

As I adjusted the sheer pearl-white chiffon
skirt that tied around the waist of my sleeveless leotard, I
silently counted to ten and watched Jake effortlessly climb the
trapeze on the center stage and then made my entry into the vast
ballroom. The room lighting was muted to a soft glow and only the
spotlight shone visibly onto the center platform. After I climbed
the three small steps, I stopped beside the ribbon and caressed it
affectionately with the palm of my hand as I waited silently for
the music to begin.

This was it—my last performance with the
troupe, bittersweet yet hopefully an exciting finale. The
choreography, combined with the song “Stay” by Rihanna, made the
routine hauntingly seductive and soulfully melancholy—the perfect
combination for my final performance. Although a beautiful piece,
it was fittingly sad because, I was sad to be leaving the troupe.
We’d all formed a close-knit bond over the years of touring
together.

Shrouding the room into further darkness,
the muted lighting was extinguished as the piano intro began. As I
extended my right hand, I wound the white silk ribbon around my
wrist and down my forearm like a snake coiling an unyielding spiral
around its prey. Looking out into the darkened ballroom, I couldn’t
see beyond the first row of tables closest to the stage, but from
rehearsals earlier that afternoon, I knew there were at least
twenty large round tables, each seating up to ten and encircling
the room. The low murmurs of the audience were faintly audible
despite the resounding tempo of the music.

As I silently commenced counting in sync
with the notes of the piano, my gaze absently flickered forward.
The beam from the spotlight illuminated just enough light that I
could see a pair of eyes stare back at me. Those eyes belonged to a
man seated at the head of the table straight in front of the stage
and in my direct line of sight.

My breath seized.

I lost count.

And my body froze.

Being watched by an audience had never
bothered me before—it was all part and parcel of performing on the
stage. However, there was something different about them. They
weren’t observing my form as a whole—they intently stared into my
eyes. It was as if they had deliberately sought out my focus, lured
me in, and ensnared all of my consciousness.

Those dark orbs held my gaze captive,
riveted in a firm and unyielding vise that was near impossible to
break. A spine-tingling shiver raced down the back of my spine as I
fought to regain my breathing.

My mouth felt dry and I
swallowed, trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing in
that moment. But all I could see was
him
. All I could feel were his dark,
fathomless, mesmerizing eyes on mine. It felt as though I were
slowly devoured from the inside out and another tremble rolled down
my back.

Although his features were partially
obscured by shadows, making it near impossible to see his face,
everything about the man blatantly held me prisoner, screamed with
sensually raw, masculine aggression—the effect disconcerting and
paralyzing.

As if sensing my discomfort, his pensive
expression relaxed fractionally, and from the shadows I could see
the full edges of his lips curve up to one side. He appeared to
be…smirking.

Was the jerk smirking at me?

My gaze narrowed toward the stranger at the
same time the sound of Jake hissing down from the trapeze filtered
through the haze in my head. “Charli! What the fuck!”

Shit, shit, SHIT!

Giving my head a small
shake to clear my thoughts, I improvised, entwining my right leg
around the ribbon, and
ascended with a
basic wrap climb.

Chapter Three

After the show, I
attempted to stealthily slip away and abscond back to my gorgeous
suite for the remainder of the evening but was thwarted by Uncle
Mike. He caught me on the steps. A stern frown masked his face as
he demanded my attendance along with the other troupe members at
the after-party. His order put a major kibosh on my plans for the
night.
Damn it!

Grudgingly, I raced back
up to my room and quickly changed into the solitary dress I’d
brought with me on the trip—a typical LBD—or at least my version of
a “little black dress.” Basically, it was a long-sleeved shift
dress that ended mid-thigh; all lace at the front and very demure
but behind was pure sex kitten, with a low cutout panel that
exposed the majority of skin right down to an inch above my ass.
The detailed lace was stretchy and clung to what little curves I
had in a very flattering way. I loved the dress and planned to wear
it out one night during our stay in Paris. The dress said
more
night clubby
then
sophisticated
elegance
,
so I
felt a little uncomfortable putting it on at first. But I hadn’t
brought anything else, so it would have to do. There were times
when I really should listen to Courtney—she had told me to pack
more.

Normally, there weren’t
any after-party celebrations to attend, unless you counted going
for a ride on the roller coaster afterwards. The Amazing Lawsons
mainly performed at local county fairs and the odd company
corporate functions.
Oh well, the dress
would have to do.

As I brushed my hair out, I decided to leave
it loose and hanging down my back in an effort for modesty and
jogged back down the stairs to meet up with Jake and Courtney.

They waited for me just outside the entrance
to the ballroom, which had been cleared of tables after the dinner
and show, and now had a live band playing classical pop songs.

Jake pivoted to face me and growled. “What
the fuck happened out there, Charli?”

Shit!
I just knew Jake was going to ream my ass over what had
happened earlier. That’s why I’d avoided him as soon as we’d left
the stage.

My hands lifted up in a placating manner. “I
know, I know. I’m sorry, Jake. I messed up and lost focus. But at
least I recovered in time and the rest of the routine was
perfect.”

“
Focus!” His face flushed
red with exasperation. The vein in his temple pulsated furiously.
Clearly, Jake wasn’t ready to let this go. “How many times have I
told you? Shit, kiddo, that’s something you can’t afford to do when
you’re out there. What do you think would happen if you lost focus
up on the ribbon or trapeze? You’d fall and kill yourself—that’s
what! Thank Christ it happened on the floor.” When he finished his
tirade, his chest was heaving with effort.

My hands balled at my hips, I opened my
mouth to respond but Courtney beat me to it. “Ah, guys…now is not
the time or place to be having this discussion. Besides, you’re
both missing the big picture here. You two totally nailed it
tonight. Let it go, for now at least.”

Courtney had always been the peacemaker
between us. Whenever Jake and I got into our disagreements, as
siblings frequently do, Courtney would always charge in and smooth
everything over. She was always saying that we were two peas in a
pod—both stubborn to a fault. And she wasn’t wrong there.

“
Charli.” Courtney grabbed
my shoulders and pulled me toward her. “You were hot out there
tonight, babe. From the second you walked out, I swear, all eyes
were on you and I even saw some of the drool. Drool!” she
exclaimed, her eyes wide as saucers.