Master's Flame Read Online Free PDF Page B

wanted her. And it was terrible to want her, this hot-headed girl, because she would burn up both of them in a fire impossible to control.
    He frowned and let her go. “I’m going to make you add to your act, Valentina. Three more men, Andrew and a couple others.”
    She looked devastated. “But...why?”
    “It cannot remain as it is. Don’t misunderstand me. Your skill is amazing and the work you’ve done so far is exemplary, but it isn’t fair to Adei to shoulder such responsibility. More men—not spotters, but partners, like Adei—can expand the emotional interest of the act. More tricks, more possibilities, and the need for spotters disappears. Four strong men will make a beautiful visual, and you, their flyer, soaring across the sky.”
    “Four men?” He saw her consider this, saw her realize that more men could only increase the spectacle of her performance.
    “But no more women,” she said sharply. “Only me.”
    Michel spread his hands in a gesture of capitulation. “I don’t know where you believe we could find another woman capable of doing what you do. Well?”
    She bit her lip, thinking, dreaming, perhaps, of the possibilities. He waited a full two minutes with Jason silent at his side. “I guess it’s okay,” she finally said. “I guess it might work.”
    After a muted smile to reward her for her conciliatory tone, he hardened his expression and infused his voice with all the displeasure he felt. “Now, Miss Sancia, I would like to explain something to you. Here at the Cirque, we work as a team. We have no divas here, no rock stars, no supreme, inflated egos. No one lords over others here.” He paused. “No one except me.”
    “I only spoke out for my craft,” she protested. “My art.”
    “We are all making art here. That’s no excuse for your unhinged and childish display. At Cirque, we consider multiple viewpoints and collaborate. I will always consider your point of view, but I will require you to also listen to mine because I’m your boss. I’ll expect you to listen without raging and ranting. Do you understand?”
    “What if I disagree with your viewpoint?”
    “Do you understand?” he repeated, sharpening his already-taut voice.
    “Yes, I understand.” She made a face and rolled her eyes. “I speak English.”
    Oh, to be in a position to punish her as she deserved. He felt Jason shift restlessly at his side. His whip hand probably ached too. “Further, I will expect you to address me, your directors and coaches, your performance partners, in fact, everyone in this organization with professionalism and respect.”
    “But—”
    Michel held up a hand before she could go off. “I’m not saying you have to bow down to anyone, or be falsely polite or solicitous, or any of those things. I expect you to speak to others as you would wish to be spoken to, and treat others as you’d wish to be treated. Would you like Adei to push you and hit you when you fall off balance in rehearsals and make a mistake?”
    After a moment, she shook her head.
    “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear your answer.”
    “No,” she said sullenly.
    “I would prefer ‘No, sir,’ and in a respectful tone.”
    She squirmed, suffering. He was sorry for it, but she needed to understand that artistic license only stretched so far, especially with him.
    “No, sir,” she finally managed. “If Adei hit me I would probably kill him.”
    Again, Jason’s inappropriate chuckling. Michel pressed his point, wrapping up his lecture with a rigid rat-a-tat of words. “If Adei cannot mistreat you, you cannot mistreat Adei. You will offer him an apology as soon as you leave my office. If you can’t find him, you’ll keep looking until you do. You will never, ever put your hand on another artist in violence from this time forward. Do you understand?”
    “Yes,” she said, adding the “sir” when his frown deepened. “It’s only that I was upset.”
    “Undoubtedly.”
    “I don’t like to do things