The Greek's One-Night Heir. Natalie Anderson

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      ‘Surely passion’s the most important ingredient?’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Talent without passion is nothing. Skills can be learned, passion can’t.’

      ‘Well, that may be so, but I’m already taller than average.’ She shrugged, long skilled at masking her self-consciousness about it. ‘Put me in pointe shoes and I tower over most men.’

      It wasn’t the only reason she’d quit, but he didn’t need to know anything more about her constant inability to meet her parents’ expectations.

      ‘Is that why you wear flat shoes now? So you’re not taller than your men?’

      Her men? She choked back a laugh at the thought. ‘I wear them because they’re comfortable. I dress to please myself, not some man.’

      He grinned appreciatively. ‘Sure. But you’re not taller than me. You could wear high heels when we go out.’

      ‘I’m not going out with you.’

      ‘Aren’t we out right now?’ he teased.

      She shook her head. ‘By accident, not design.’

      ‘So wouldn’t you go out with me if I asked?’

      ‘Would you ask?’

      That smile hovered around his mouth and he took another sip. ‘Perhaps it’s better if I omit to answer—the truth might terrify you. It mildly terrifies me.’ His gaze clung to her lips and radiated a flash of heat that rippled over her. ‘What is it you like about ballet? The costumes? Because it’s romantic?’

      ‘There’s nothing romantic about ballet,’ she scoffed, covering that moment of awareness. ‘It’s ruthless.’

      ‘You mean bloody blisters and sprained muscles?’

      ‘I mean more than that. Did you know in this ballet the girl goes mad and dies of a broken heart because the man she loved lied to her,’ she said with a pointed look. ‘Because he omits to tell her he’s betrothed to another woman. I don’t think that’s romantic.’

      He chuckled but then leaned forward to tease. ‘It was the prospect of marriage, see? It caused all the problems.’

      She rolled her eyes even as she laughed. Just then theatre doors opened and the audience spilled out, shattering the sense of intimacy that had built between them. Somehow that time had sped by and she was sorry it had gone so quickly.

      ‘It’s probably time to take your seat.’ He gestured behind her. ‘You don’t want to leave it too late…’

      ‘Okay.’ But the flutters in her stomach wouldn’t cease. That she was going to spend the rest of the evening with him? Even though she knew he was just amusing himself, it was still unbelievable.

      Leah followed the waiting usher, her pulse quickening as the woman guided her to the best seat in the theatre. Overcome with appreciation she turned to thank him, but he wasn’t with them. Somehow he’d disappeared in the crowd. Too late she realised the truth. He wasn’t sitting with her because it wasn’t a spare ticket he’d given her. It was his own.

      Disappointment hit as that unusual bubble of happiness and hope popped. She hadn’t had the chance to thank him or even say goodbye. Instinctively she knew she wasn’t going to see him again. Who said chivalry was dead?

      But to think that for a second she’d thought he’d actually been attracted to her. She was mortified at the memory and glad he’d now gone, given he’d clearly just been filling in time.

      As the lights dimmed it took a few minutes for her to appreciate the ballet but then Zoe appeared onstage and she was swamped with pleasure and pride for her friend.

      After the final curtain call Leah walked to the artists’ entrance at the back of the theatre to meet her and give her friend the gift she’d made. Her lost ticket confession resulted in them both giggling and then Zoe insisted Leah accompany her to the opening night company party to make it up to her. Secretly she wanted to escape home alone so she could remember her handsome stranger. Instead she smiled and said yes, ruefully thinking of him again as she omitted honesty to save her own embarrassment.

      Theo Savas stalked out of the theatre, determined to resist the tempting whisper telling him to seek out that slender brunette with the hopelessly soft eyes. He forced himself to make the mandatory appearance at the ballet’s opening night celebration. He couldn’t skip it, given the party was at the hotel he was staying in. But he could escape early and have some space and privacy before his early flight home to Athens. He had little desire to socialise beyond the cursory showing of his face.

      His mind teased, replaying the light conversation he’d had with the tall, ticketless sylph. He’d watched her from the distance during the ballet, happy in the back-row seat off to the side management had found for him. She’d sat motionless through the performance, apparently entranced, and she’d applauded energetically. But he’d seen a hint of sadness on her mouth when she’d turned to leave. Theo had pressed back into the crowd as competing instincts had warred within him. He had affairs only rarely—always discreet, always without strings, always unencumbered by emotion or the weight of baggage. There were no hearts involved in his dalliances. Physical pleasure was just a freely given gift—very simple, very satisfying. The suggestion of anything more was not. He’d seen the hurt it caused when it mattered too much.

      And he didn’t think the leggy brunette was the no-strings, no-hearts type.

      As he walked into the reception room the nearest group of women turned to stare, then smile. One peeled off and walked over.

      ‘You’re Theo Savas.’

      ‘I am.’

      Invitation shone in the pretty dancer’s eyes but he turned away from it as he invariably did. Yet he still couldn’t shake the recollection of that brunette’s lavender-blue gaze or the awkward interest that had shone from it. Regret curled.

      ‘I’m—’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ he interrupted the woman briefly. ‘I can’t stop to chat.’

      He’d check in with the company director and get out of here. But as he turned to seek out the director he spotted a tall figure on the other side of the room. His second glance morphed into a stare. And he smiled. Every sense sharpened. She was in shadow, but her silhouette was unmistakable. Triumph allowed temptation to burst free. His ticketless damsel must have been invited to the after-party by her dancer friend.

      ‘Hey.’ He caught her arm to get her attention in the crowd, barely quelling the impulse to pull her close.

      ‘Oh…’ Her pupils dilated as she stared up at him. There was no hiding the sensuality that sparkled in her eyes. ‘What are you doing here?’

      ‘I could ask you the same question.’ He couldn’t drag his hungry gaze from her face. It was as if he’d not seen her in months, not mere minutes. ‘Where’s your friend?’ He didn’t really care. All that mattered was that they had a second chance and he wasn’t letting her slip away again. Not yet.

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