LITMIR.BIZ

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that.’

      ‘You think I should lie to her?’

      He smiled at her as if she were a timid little lamb. ‘You’re omitting a little of the truth. That’s not a lie.’

      ‘Of course it’s a lie,’ she corrected him flatly. ‘It’s not completely honest.’

      ‘And we should always be completely honest?’ He shook his head and laughed openly.

      ‘You think I’m wrong?’

      ‘Naïve, perhaps.’ He leaned closer. ‘Sometimes telling the truth serves no purpose. When it can only hurt the person who has to hear it, why would you?’ He broke off with a sharp breath.

      She had the feeling he wasn’t thinking of her little ‘missing the first half’ mistake any more.

      ‘So you’d omit the truth, or tell a lie, to protect someone?’ she asked.

      ‘Of course.’

      He said it with such quiet certainty, she knew he had and did. She thought of the grandfather all over again and wondered what it was he protected him from.

      That quizzical look lit his eyes again. ‘What would hurt your friend more? Knowing you missed the first half, or never knowing you missed it?’

      ‘If she ever found out I lied, that would hurt her the most. But if I tell her the truth, she’ll just laugh at me.’

      He stilled, his gaze keen on her. ‘And that doesn’t hurt you?’

      She shrugged. ‘My crime isn’t that critical and I’m already laughing at myself.’ She eyed him. ‘We can laugh together. Sharing pain takes some of the sting out of it, doesn’t it?’

      ‘Not always.’

      ‘Hmmm.’ She pondered it. ‘The problem is, one omission inevitably leads to more lies—she’ll ask what I thought of something in the first half and I’d have to lie then.’

      ‘Or you could just not talk about it at all.’

      She laughed. ‘So your solution is to just bury everything and live in total denial? Pretend nothing bad ever happened?’ She leaned closer. ‘It’ll only come back to haunt you.’

      ‘Don’t tell me you believe in ghosts.’

      ‘Well, I believe some things—feelings mostly—can’t stay buried. They rise like zombies and eat your brain to the point where you can’t think clearly any more.’ It happened to her frequently.

      ‘So you always act on your emotions?’ he queried. ‘Act on gut feelings rather than with rational thought?’

      She sighed. ‘I’m human. I try to be a good one and not hurt others.’

      ‘So honesty it is?’

      ‘Ideally, yes.’

      ‘Ideally.’ He sent her an indulgent smile. ‘So how, ideally, will your friend react?’

      ‘I know she’ll laugh. It’s not the first time I’ve messed up.’

      ‘You’ve known her a while?’

      ‘We grew up in the same town and were in ballet class together.’

      ‘But you don’t dance any more?’

      ‘My passion outweighed my talent.’

      ‘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

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