Dark Enchantment Read Online Free Page B

shadow. Just for a moment I thought I saw a slight, dark figure sitting in my chair, head in hands. Then the light from the room behind me shifted in as I changed my stance and I saw that the room was empty.
    Odd, I thought. But I didn’t have time to worry about it. I had to get into my costume for the masked ball, and meet my betrothed.
    The opening night was a thorough success and I couldn’t have been more pleased; this was my first principal role with an opera company this big, and though it was an amateur company it was a top-of-the-range one, with costumes and sets as good as any you’d see in a professional show. It was only the participants who didn’t get paid for what they did.
    After the final curtain fell some of the cast went to the pub to celebrate while others went home and the backstage crew scrummed down into a technical discussion. I hung around chatting for a while, but ended up getting changed back into civvies alone, humming to myself my riverbank aria. I was just putting my earrings on when Elliot lifted the curtain and looked in on me.
    ‘Hey.’
    ‘Hi there.’
    We stood smiling at each other, not entirely sure of ourselves. Elliot’s silence before he next spoke was just that little bit too extended. All of a sudden the room felt too warm.
    ‘I was wondering if you would like to go out for a drink, Tanya.’ His invitation was measured and polite, but it could not be construed as casual. His eyes said everything.
    ‘A drink?’
    ‘There’s the bar at the Hilton.’
    ‘I’d love to.’ I ran my hand over the back of a chair. ‘But I can’t.’
    He raised an eyebrow. ‘Hm?’
    ‘I’m …’ I bit my lip. ‘I’m married.’
    ‘Ah. Fair enough.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘So am I,’ he admitted.
    ‘I’d have liked to though,’ I blurted out as he turned away. ‘You know.’
    He held me with his gaze one beat longer. ‘Yes. I know.’
    A moment of aching frustration passed between us, unspoken. Then he stepped in towards me and I thought that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He took my hands in his and I thought how big and warm his were compared to mine. And I thought I was sure I was capable of denying myself – but not if he pushed it, not if he took control, not if he touched me. Please, I thought, just kiss me and it won’t be my fault.
    Stooping, Elliot brushed his lips to my cheek. ‘I think it’s probably a good job we’re not on tour together, don’t you?’
    ‘Yes,’ I whispered.
    ‘Goodnight, Tanya.’ He left me breathless and shaking – and alone.
    I sat down heavily, feeling the air go out of me like from a punctured tyre. I should phone home, I told myself, my fingers fluttering over my face. I should speak to Tim and his voice would remind me who it was that I loved, who it was I could come home to every night and find always pleased to see me, pleased to slide into bed beside me, pleased for my success and my passion and my pleasure in an art he understood not at all. Tim would have bought a bunch of flowers to congratulate me on my opening night, and would have a bottle of my favourite wine open. We would make love because I’d be too wired and hyper to sleep, and it would be quite wonderful and satisfying.
    None of which made one whit of difference to how I was feeling now. My panties were soaking. My insides churned, craving Elliot’s touch, the smell of his skin and his cologne, the sound of his voice. His beautiful, perfect voice. For a few moments I relived in my head our lovers’ scene on stage, hearing again our two voices intertwining passionately, seeing his body moving down on mine. It was too much to bear. With a groan I shook my head and reached for my car keys, but my fumbling fingers knocked them across the dressing table and into the wastepaper basket. As I scrabbled among the crumpled make-up-smeared wipes, I realised that I was in no condition to drive. Frustration was making me clumsy and unfocused, and the itch between my thighs