All roads lead to Rome when Ashley Solomons embarks on fulfilling her dream to become a world-class dancer. But there’s one person who stands in her way. “It`s a no from me,” Antonio Machiavelli. When Antonio’s auditions for a lead principal end in wintry Cape Town, the last thing he expects is to have more than a knee-jerk reaction to an audition. Ashley not only verbally challenges him, but also translates her fire and cheekiness into an edge of your seat performance. Can Antonio keep his distance from Ashley? Can Ashley focus on fulfilling her dream of becoming a lead principal? Or will love have its way?
He let the girl get to the chorus before dismissing her as well. The other panel members spoke kindly, and she didn’t leave in tears as the candidate before her had.
Before he could call next, she walked out on stage. She didn’t stand a chance in hell, so why give him the satisfaction of ordering her around? Finding her center, she met the eyes of the panel and blinked. Maybe she should have Googled Antonio Machiavelli, she mused standing transfixed. He was much younger than she expected and more attractive.
He appeared to be in his early thirties, with a mop of dark curls falling across his forehead. Even seated, he towered over the other judges. No wonder every girl’s unnerved. He`s intimidating with his tanned hands folded in front of him on the table.. His grim scowl reminded her to not cave.
“What’s your name?” the lone woman on the panel asked with a kind smile.
“Ashley,” she replied.
The woman glanced down at her clipboard. “It says here you have no formal training.”
Antonio Machiavelli gave a deep sigh. Her brow furrowed. “Yes.”
Nail-biting silence reigned for a moment then the woman waved her hand. “Proceed.”
Antonio Machiavelli placed his fingers at his temples. “Do we have to? She has no formal training. She’s wasting everyone’s time.”
Ashley’s jaw clenched. “How about you let me finish my audition? You’ll have enough ammunition to ridicule me with after.”
That got his attention. She couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but if she had to guess, she’d say fiery red. He sat forward in his chair, leaning over the table, dwarfing it.
He had the persona of an angry wolf out to devour her. The thought set her heart racing. What? She watched too much True Blood.