knew that she was only
trying to fool herself. His hands
gripping her arms set a shiver of excitement through her, and her head bent
back, almost inviting him to stoop down and kiss her.
For one bewitchingly long moment,
Zaira was sure he would; she could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he
paused. Then, he delivered the last of his lines and flung her from him, so
violently that she actually did fall. She was completely unprepared for it, and the impact was like a bucket
of cold water being thrown over her. She opened her eyes fully and stared up at him, and she could feel tears
pricking the backs of her eyes at the thought of his rejecting her.
“Sorry, I guess I caught you off
guard,” Brad apologized, and held out a hand to help her to her feet.
But there was an uneasy, almost
hostile look in his eyes which she had never seen there before.
“Not at all, the floor was a bit
slippery, that’s all, and you're very tall. You pulled me off balance. Shall we try that again?” she asked coolly.
Zaira could sense his reluctance
as he agreed, but this time she did not make the mistake of getting carried
away by her desire for him, and now her fall was controlled, but looked
realistic.
“Well done,” Brad commented, “that
part was fine. But you were a bit
wooden before. Try to take your mind off other things, and focus on Ophelia and
her feelings for Hamlet.”
Zaira thought that was fairly
ironic considering that was essentially what she had been doing, but she took
his point, that she was brooding far too much. She berated herself for having acted so foolishly. He probably had dozens of women
throwing themselves at him every day, and she had just been one among
many. The glamorous young Brad
Clarke was famous for pursuing the unattainable; perhaps that was why he was
flattering Zaira Darcy. She vowed
silently that he would have no cause to think she was flirting with him ever
again.
“Right then, that was fine, we’ll
start with act three on Saturday, if that’s all right, and Hamlet and Laertes
will need a bit of fight practice, so I’ve booked in the fencing coach from the
university as a special treat. I'll see you all at ten, as usual,” Zaira said in her most confident
tone, and they all said their goodbyes to her and Brad as they left.
“Do you fancy a drink?” Brad
asked, completely unexpectedly.
Zaira was not going to break her
promise to herself. “No, thanks, I
have plenty to do today. Maybe
Saturday?”
“What about tomorrow, day or
evening?” he insisted.
“Look, I’m sorry, Mr. Clarke, but
I’m busy for the next few days, so I’ll get a few things out of the way, and we
can talk Saturday. And now, I had
better lock up the theatre, so I’ll see you then.”
“Zoe, will you stop this Mr.
Clarke nonsense? I’m Brad, that’s
all, and I know we will have to work as colleagues, but you are not subservient
or meant to be in awe of me. There's no need to keep your distance. And I'm sorry about what I did before, it’s just that I was
taken by surprise,” he said with a shrug, not quite able to explain his
feelings.
Zaira was intrigued, but knew that
the question she was dying to ask would be a very dangerous one, so she simply
said, “I’ll try to remember that I’m your colleague, not your actress, but I
think we have to keep that aspect of our relationship, if you could call it
that, separate from the theatre here.
“I’ve been jotting down some ideas
about the book, and have had the go-ahead from the publishing house and the
lawyers, as you probably already know, so let’s not mix business with pleasure
or vice versa. If you want to see
me on Saturday about business, we'll meet after the performance, or meet in
your new office once it’s set up. Matt says you’re looking for a place.”
Brad nodded, and said, “That’s
true, but my problem is not being able to find something suitable in the area,
and now
trying to fool herself. His hands
gripping her arms set a shiver of excitement through her, and her head bent
back, almost inviting him to stoop down and kiss her.
For one bewitchingly long moment,
Zaira was sure he would; she could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he
paused. Then, he delivered the last of his lines and flung her from him, so
violently that she actually did fall. She was completely unprepared for it, and the impact was like a bucket
of cold water being thrown over her. She opened her eyes fully and stared up at him, and she could feel tears
pricking the backs of her eyes at the thought of his rejecting her.
“Sorry, I guess I caught you off
guard,” Brad apologized, and held out a hand to help her to her feet.
But there was an uneasy, almost
hostile look in his eyes which she had never seen there before.
“Not at all, the floor was a bit
slippery, that’s all, and you're very tall. You pulled me off balance. Shall we try that again?” she asked coolly.
Zaira could sense his reluctance
as he agreed, but this time she did not make the mistake of getting carried
away by her desire for him, and now her fall was controlled, but looked
realistic.
“Well done,” Brad commented, “that
part was fine. But you were a bit
wooden before. Try to take your mind off other things, and focus on Ophelia and
her feelings for Hamlet.”
Zaira thought that was fairly
ironic considering that was essentially what she had been doing, but she took
his point, that she was brooding far too much. She berated herself for having acted so foolishly. He probably had dozens of women
throwing themselves at him every day, and she had just been one among
many. The glamorous young Brad
Clarke was famous for pursuing the unattainable; perhaps that was why he was
flattering Zaira Darcy. She vowed
silently that he would have no cause to think she was flirting with him ever
again.
“Right then, that was fine, we’ll
start with act three on Saturday, if that’s all right, and Hamlet and Laertes
will need a bit of fight practice, so I’ve booked in the fencing coach from the
university as a special treat. I'll see you all at ten, as usual,” Zaira said in her most confident
tone, and they all said their goodbyes to her and Brad as they left.
“Do you fancy a drink?” Brad
asked, completely unexpectedly.
Zaira was not going to break her
promise to herself. “No, thanks, I
have plenty to do today. Maybe
Saturday?”
“What about tomorrow, day or
evening?” he insisted.
“Look, I’m sorry, Mr. Clarke, but
I’m busy for the next few days, so I’ll get a few things out of the way, and we
can talk Saturday. And now, I had
better lock up the theatre, so I’ll see you then.”
“Zoe, will you stop this Mr.
Clarke nonsense? I’m Brad, that’s
all, and I know we will have to work as colleagues, but you are not subservient
or meant to be in awe of me. There's no need to keep your distance. And I'm sorry about what I did before, it’s just that I was
taken by surprise,” he said with a shrug, not quite able to explain his
feelings.
Zaira was intrigued, but knew that
the question she was dying to ask would be a very dangerous one, so she simply
said, “I’ll try to remember that I’m your colleague, not your actress, but I
think we have to keep that aspect of our relationship, if you could call it
that, separate from the theatre here.
“I’ve been jotting down some ideas
about the book, and have had the go-ahead from the publishing house and the
lawyers, as you probably already know, so let’s not mix business with pleasure
or vice versa. If you want to see
me on Saturday about business, we'll meet after the performance, or meet in
your new office once it’s set up. Matt says you’re looking for a place.”
Brad nodded, and said, “That’s
true, but my problem is not being able to find something suitable in the area,
and now
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