Читать книгу Match Pointe - Indigo Bloome - Страница 16

Eloise was nonplussed to discover that one of Caesar’s staff would accompany her on her first-class flight to meet Ivan in St Petersburg. Her thoughts oscillated between wondering whether Caesar thought she might flee and not fulfil the legal requirements of the contract, and speculating that he now considered her such precious cargo she required one of his keepers to guard her.

It was only when the plane arrived on schedule at Pulkovo Airport that she began to grow curious about what might happen next in her now unpredictable life. She was both excited and nervous about what the future might hold. Other than being aware of Ivan’s passion for ballet, she really had no idea what he was like as a person. She couldn’t help but ponder whether he was experiencing the same apprehension about her arrival. The only certainty she had was to expect the unexpected as her life unfolded over the coming days, weeks and months.

She watched her suitcase, containing everything she needed for the foreseeable future, being loaded into the car. When the boot slammed shut with a loud thud, she couldn’t help but think her fate was being sealed in with it. She was pleased Caesar’s people had organised a luxury limousine to collect her rather than the coach that had last taken her through the streets of this majestic city. She had loved performing here, and hoped this time she might have more opportunity to explore its rich history than the ballet tour had allowed.

Caesar had assured Eloise it wasn’t important for her to know much about tennis, which was a relief, because she didn’t. She had only ever been vaguely aware of the players in the finals of Wimbledon, mainly because she lived in London. What she did know was that from today she would be Ivan’s private ballerina. In return, he would be her new Master, for want of a better word, and most importantly, her first Number One.

Any confidence she had had leaving London suddenly evaporated when she alighted from the limousine. She composed herself as best she could before stepping through the doors of Ivan’s vast apartment, overlooking the River Neva.

Ivan’s maid showed her to her room and she settled in quietly, awaiting further instructions. Eventually she was called to join him for some tea in the lounge room.

Ivan was dressed entirely in black and seemed polished and urbane as he greeted Eloise with a respectful nod, barely brushing her hand with his lips. He was not an ugly man, though his nose was a little too big for his face and his eyes a little too close together. At just under five foot eleven, he was by no means the tallest player on the circuit but he was as lean and athletic as any top sportsman. Eloise wondered where he hid the killer instinct required to win match after match, when there was no such aggression to be found in his personality off court. He appeared to be rather shy by nature, and the perfect gentleman.

Their discussion about her role in his life was simple and succinct. ‘Caesar has sent through your details, Eloise,’ he told her in his heavy Russian accent. ‘I’m so pleased you decided to accept his offer to dance for me.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ She expected him to continue but he gazed idly out the window. ‘I’d appreciate it if you could outline your expectations of my role.’

‘Oh, yes, of course. It’s simple, really. You will dance for me before each match I play. I’m not sure how long each performance will last; it will depend on the day. I’ll be playing in quite a few tournaments leading up to the French Open and you will travel with my team. The schedule is on the table. Other than before my matches, your time is your own unless I let you know otherwise.’

‘Nothing else? Only dancing?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’ He turned to look at her as if he were missing something. ‘I’m sure Caesar explained it to you. I’ve also informed my mother of your arrival and she is hoping you might dance some scenes from her favourite ballet, Cinderella. We’d both like to watch.’

‘Yes, of course, sir!’ she said with genuine excitement. ‘It would be my pleasure.’

‘Excellent. The maid has prepared lunch for you in the kitchen. I’ll see you at 4pm in the studio.’

He then promptly left the room to go about his own business.

Eloise had had no idea of what to expect on her arrival, but even so it all seemed rather formal and distant. She wondered whether she had managed to do something to upset Ivan – though she couldn’t imagine what in such a short space of time – or whether it was just his personality. Perhaps this would change as they got to know each other. She did her best to swallow her disappointment – if that was what it was – knowing that her job wasn’t to question, it was to adapt to his needs. If this was how he preferred it – minimal interaction at best – then she would fulfil his wishes graciously.

That afternoon was the first time she danced for Ivan and his mother, Anna. It would be the first of many times, and they whispered in Russian as they watched her perform with enthusiasm. Occasionally Ivan asked her to stop and repeat certain elements of her scene, after which his mother would applaud and blow kisses towards her in appreciation, saying ‘Beautiful’ or ‘Perfect’, which Ivan translated from Russian to English for her. At times Eloise and Anna danced together, and it was then that Eloise enjoyed seeing Ivan’s smile light up his face, making him look friendly and relaxed, in place of his usual austere disposition. It was obvious that he adored his mother and she appeared thrilled to have Eloise as an addition to their daily lives.

From the outset Ivan showed no real interest in Eloise other than her dancing. Eloise learnt that his preference was to keep communication between them to a bare minimum. His manager generally left notes informing her when and where she was needed to perform for him. The rest of the time, as he had said, she was free to do as she wished. So Eloise revelled in her lengthy explorations of the beautiful palaces, museums and cathedrals and majestic gardens of St Petersburg. There was no shortage of attractions in a city with such a rich heritage.

The only event Ivan and Eloise attended together publicly was a surprise trip to the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow to see Don Quixote. Eloise forced the memory of Natalia’s face from her mind, knowing this was where Natalia had trained, though she couldn’t deny that she was on high alert, critiquing the performances and keen to absorb improvements that could be made to her own repertoire.

It was the first evening that she and Ivan had spoken at length; Ivan was attentive to Eloise’s observations about how she felt as a member of the audience rather than as a dancer onstage. The next evening he had her perform for more than three hours in his studio as he wandered around the room, his eyes silently studying the intricacy of her movements at close range. At the end of her exhausting routine he smiled and clapped his hands, declaring, ‘Bravo! Simply exquisite!’

Then he promptly left the room. As was often the case.

Eloise often hoped her relationship with Ivan would become a tad more communicative than it was, but she adored the meticulous way he studied her body when she danced for him. Even though she was alone more often than not, as long as he needed her to dance for him, she was content to fulfil her role.

Eloise knew her contract ensured that she was Ivan’s responsibility, and this at least gave her comfort that she belonged somewhere. In many respects it was no different from her previous life – she was still paid to dance, she maintained her former nomadic lifestyle – but at the same time, she was no longer competing in the stressful world of ballet, the hotels were five star, her travel first class (if not private jet) and her expense account indulgent, even if she never took advantage of it and always asked for permission to spend regardless (for instance, to purchase clothes more suited to her new lifestyle). Having her needs completely catered for and her whole life organised on her behalf was more than satisfactory.

Yet what she hadn’t realised was how accustomed she had become to interacting with a bevy of virile male ballet dancers. She might not have had many sexual relationships, but she desperately missed the physicality of men and the feeling of their muscled limbs against her own, their hands sliding along her taut curves and over her legs, neck and face. Their sheer strength in lifting her petite form into the air as though she were a feather, and effortlessly catching her as she fell. The physicality of dance was the part that made her feel connected, like she belonged. Suddenly she’d been removed from this overtly sensate world and thrust into a life where no one touched her at all, and her longing for more had taken her completely by surprise.

Ivan appeared absorbed in her beauty and grace but never once approached her. Although their contract clearly facilitated, among other things, a sexual relationship should they be so inclined, she was comfortable with the fact that it was all about dancing, as she wasn’t exactly attracted to him. The contract also stipulated that she should not be sexually intimate with anyone else – not that she had the opportunity for that. So she accepted her enforced celibacy without complaint, knowing that going against Caesar’s rules was never an option she could consider.