Read Firebird (The Firebird Trilogy #1) for Free Online Page B

places, until a hush descended on the bar as an extraordinary baritone crooned “Into My Arms” by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.
    “What in the world is that ?”
    “We should find out.” Stephanie slid off the barstool. She and Rhonda edged their way through the crowd and into the back, standing room only. “Oh. My. God.”
    “Isn’t that Volynsky?”
    Half the crowd was recording video that guaranteed thousands of YouTube views. Wolf-whistles and shouts of “Sasha!” attended the caramel voice—rich, smooth, with a hint of darkness—flowing from his lips. Born to perform, as an athlete or otherwise. Soaking in his audience’s adulation. In his superiority. Despite the pop-music confines, he could not help but assert his obvious classical training.
    Despite the women vying for his attention at the front of the stage, his gaze homed in on her with a laser’s exactitude, rooting her to the floor. And from then on, he did not look anywhere else until the song ended, as if he knew she could not have left if she’d wanted to.
    Mic drop. He raised his arms, flashed victory signs, and hopped off the stage to raucous applause. He’d have to ruin the moment, the pompous ass.
    “I need to get out of here.”
    “You okay to go by yourself? Let me call you a cab.”
    “I’ll be fine. I can call Joe if I need to.”
    “All right. Be safe.”
    “I will.” They hugged. “See you on Monday.”
    She weaved her way through the throng, trying to keep her head down but needing visual confirmation she and Aleksandr were not about to cross paths.
    And smacked into a solid, T-shirt-clad chest. She reluctantly lifted her chin.
    “Fancy meeting you here.” Intoxication had thickened his accent.
    “I’m on my way out. Nice job getting arrested, by the way. Good-bye.”
    “Wait. Don’t go yet.” He grasped her arm and refused to let go despite her attempt to dig her heels into the floor. The obsequious clearing of a path for him nauseated her. If there was one thing she couldn’t abide, it was a spoiled brat. He led her to a corner in the back room. “I apologize.”
    “How noble of you.” Stephanie tried to wriggle away. She was close enough to feel the hard contours of his muscles, the heat radiating off him.
    “Do you have any idea what it’s like, seeing you again after all these years?”
    She had been trying to drink it away all week. “Aleksandr, my job is on the line because of you. I need a story or I’m done. And you know what? I don’t even care anymore. My fiancé wants to move back East anyway.”
    The pained expression again, more naked now that the barriers had fallen. “I tried to forget about you after we lost touch. I wanted to. But I just…couldn’t.”
    “I know,” Stephanie murmured, wishing she didn’t.
    “Then why did you stop emailing me?”
    “People drift apart,” she lied. “You were playing pro at eighteen. You have everything. What did you need me for?”
    “No one else knows me as anyone but this. Everyone I meet wants bragging rights or my money. Except you.”
    “People suck, Aleksandr, but you can’t go through life not trusting anyone. Do you want to be alone forever?”
    “Of course not. And maybe that’s why I ended up here. To find you again.”
    Her breath stuck in her throat. “Aleksandr, I can’t. Please.”
    “Are you happy?”
    “What kind of a question is that? Of course I’m happy.”
    The corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re lying.”
    “I don’t have to prove anything to you.” Stephanie spun away from him, but he closed his fingers around her wrist like an iron cuff and tugged. She stumbled into him. He tilted her chin, his soporific eyes begging her to share the moment with him, to understand. To remember, as if she’d ever forgotten.
    “I saw you when you came in. I sang for you.”
    “Aleksandr, please. You’re just drunk.”
    His hot, vodka-laced breath caressed her mouth. The room blurred, spun a little. She staggered back, but he