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So much for seeing Archer after practice. With the diamond gone, he’s my only hope. But how can I reach out to him if I don’t know his number or where he works, or where he spends his days. As soon as I have the thought, an image of him in his hotel suite pops into my head.

I stop in front of the door, letting my desire unfurl at my core. It doesn’t get too far before the door busts open, and Paul pokes his head out. “Good morning. You’re late.”

“I’m not late. Just later than usual.” I pull the door wide open and barge in.

“I came early to talk to you. You left me hanging last night. You can’t drop a bomb on me and then go silent.” He falls into step next to me as we make our way down the wide and long corridor that leads to the dressing rooms of the theatre.

“I’m sorry. I got pulled in a million directions after I texted you. I didn’t even see your texts.” I fumble through my gym bag to find my phone, though after everything that happened I can’t remember when or where I saw it last.

“Well, you’re here. Tell me. Was it really him? Did the Adonis from the hotel show up at your house.” He grips my wrist, making me stop in my tracks.

“Yes.” I place a hand over my forehead.

“No fucking way.” He turns in place to make sure we’re alone. “Did he tell the Senator what you did?”

“Sort of. Not really. Dad knows I didn’t go straight home that night. But he doesn’t know what I did.” I shrug.

“So how badly are you in trouble?” he asks.

“Nico has orders to wait for me outside this fucking door.” I point at the door I just came in from. “No more escapades.”

“Well, you can tell that to Pierre.” He takes my hand and pulls me farther down the hall. “He wants to talk to us. I’m sure it’s the usual speech he does for his leads.Embarrass me with your poor performance and you die.”He says in a voice that sounds a lot like Pierre.

I laugh. “You’re terrible.”

He knocks on our ballet director’s door. When Pierre responds withentrê,Paul opens the door. “After you.”

“Coward,” I whisper to him.

Pierre sits behind his beat-up desk that has probably been in this cinder-block office since the eighties. He keeps his head down as he scribbles on a notepad. Pierre can be terrifying, maybe more so than Dad. But he’s strict because the job is hard. He swears we’re the ones responsible for the gray hairs on his head.

“Do you want to die?” he says without looking up.

“No, sir,” Paul responds immediately.

When I don’t respond, Paul elbows me in the ribs. I clear my throat. “No. Sir.”

“Good.” He looks up. “Then don’t embarrass me with shitty ballet. Did you do the assignment?”

“I did.” I nod. As much as I feared Dad’s disapproval, I feared Pierre’s more. I went to the hotel lounge the night I met Archer because I didn’t want to lose this job.

“Did our Odile seduce her prince?” he asks Paul.

“That she did. She was brilliant. He was eating out of her hand.” He puts out his hand to show Pierre. Then makes a gesture like he’s grabbing seeds from his hand and then puts them in his mouth.

“Was he ugly? It doesn’t count if he was.” Pierre is also the brutally honest type. But he is brilliant at choreographing, so everyone gives him a pass. It’s why this is his tenth year putting on Swan Lake. “Well?” He glares at me.

Paul looks at me for a moment before he answers, “he’s gorgeous, but also, dangerous.” When Pierre nods in approval, Paul continues, “tall, dark hair, brilliant blue eyes, wide shoulders, chiseled jaw. The full package. But he was no match for her.”

I let Paul do the talking. I’m afraid that if I utter a single word about Archer, Pierre will sense how much I was turned on by a beautiful stranger. Guilt may even force me to confess that I asked for ten thousand dollars and I didn’t even sleep with him.

“Perfect.” Pierre shifts his gaze to me, making my heartbeat pick up. He surveys my face, then skips to my legs as if assessing me all over again. “This will not be an easy role for you. I need you to seduce not just your prince.” He points at Paul. “But the entire audience. I want them all to leave the theater wishing they could fuck you. Do you understand?”

Jesus he was intense.

“I-I understand.”

“Good.” He points to the door. “Start your warm-ups. I’ll see you in two hours.”