Natasha enjoyed her new studio immensely. The room brought her more pleasure than almost anything else in her life ever had. It was something built especially for her. Not an expensive bauble meant to give her a brief spark of happiness, nor the applause of a thundering audience after she’d pushed herself to her very limits for their benefit. No… this was all for her. Whether he realized it or not, David had built this place to give his wife a sanctuary. By opening that door for her, he’d once more cracked her heart open.

She danced her way through the following weeks with a heart and mind gradually stepping back into the light. She didn’t have to run and hide anymore. That in itself gave her a new kind of freedom, even though David locked her in the cabin each time he left. He didn’t handcuff her again, for which she was grateful. He left for supplies about once a week, warning her not to leave the cabin. He told her the mountain was dangerous and she could be easily hurt. She was not stupid, so she had simply nodded her acquiescence and went back to her precious studio. She spent all of her time in there when she wasn’t in bed, eating or showering. Even when she wasn’t dancing, she still curled up on the floor to read or watch the lazy snowflakes falling through the long windows.

She danced in a way she’d never danced before. She didn’t have to perfect each step for the sake of an audience. She didn’t have to hone her body to sleek precision to meet the impossible standards of a brutal industry. Nor was she on the run from a husband determined to hunt her into the ground. She no longer had to dance with one eye to the shadows, fatigue her close friend because sleep was her enemy. She now danced for freedom, for herself.

It was the beginning of her fourth week in the cabin, three weeks had passed since David had given her the studio. She was standing at the free bar in the middle of the room, one leg up in a stretch and her arms arced over the same leg. She bent forward keeping her back perfectly straight, then swept forward to the floor. She smiled as the ends of her dark ponytail touched the floor. She was never allowed to leave her hair free at the Bolshoi. If even a strand was out of place the dancer would be in so much trouble!

But how she loved the feel of her hair whipping around her as she leapt and twirled. It just added to the freedom of movement. David used his laptop to download some music for her onto an iPod he’d bought for her on one of his trips into town. He’d even purchased speakers for her. She’d thanked him gratefully for the gift. Somehow the music meant more to her than all the jewelry he’d ever bought her. It was like he’d learned about her as he stalked her over the past few years. He somehow discovered that his young wife didn’t need or want expensive things. What she craved was the freedom of music and dance.

Now, Tasha easily pushed her free bar to the side using the pads he’d placed on the bottom and strode on her toe shoes to the iPod port to switch her music. She smiled widely, enjoying the sense of naughty freedom that flooded her bloodstream as she pressed play on “Dog Days are Over” by Florence and the Machine and took her place in the center of the room. Though she still enjoyed the flow of classical ballet, she absolutely adored putting together modern dance compilations and spent most of her days composing her own numbers. The song was fast-paced and energetic. She leapt and whirled, throwing herself into each spin and kick with grinning enthusiasm.

She finished with a sweeping bow, low to the floor. With a laugh, she jumped to her feet and twirled around until she faced the door. She gasped and clasped a hand over her racing heart when she saw David standing in the doorway. He stood watching her, his normally serious face softened by a small smile. He was so breathtakingly sexy in that moment that all she could do was stand and stare. She wanted to say something; to invite him into the studio. To thank him again for the hundredth time for her gift. But the music continued to pound throughout the room, drowning out anything she would have said. Besides, she was certain her heart was in her eyes.

He nodded toward her and gently closed the door, leaving her alone in the sound-proofed room. Tasha smiled at the door, warmth suffusing her. They had been growing closer over the past weeks. He was gradually loosening up around her. He didn’t stop her from speaking in his presence when she forgot herself and started talking about nonsense. He even encouraged her chatter once or twice, adding his own comments that would occasionally end in her laughter. It occurred to her that he might have missed her laugh during their time apart. He used to say that her smile and her voice were two of the things he liked best about her.

And their nights… David’s touch, while still aggressive and intense had become more controlled and not painful anymore. He sought her pleasure much the way he used to at the beginning of their marriage. Though she still sensed the darkness underlying his every action, she now suspected this was a part of his character that had always existed. Something she had been naïve to as a young virgin, in love for the first time. Now she understood the barely concealed savagery her husband held beneath the surface of his civilized exterior. She was not fool enough to believe that he had forgiven her completely. But he seemed to understand that if they were to remain together as husband and wife, that they would have to get past… well… the past.

What Tasha didn’t quite know, was how she was going to reconcile his career choice enough to stay with him. She could now admit to herself that she was helplessly, irrevocably in love with her husband. Always. The love never stopped. Even when she feared him. She wanted to beg him to stop killing people. She even found herself approaching him several times over the past few weeks, when he seemed in a better mood. But every time she opened her mouth and he turned to her, a question in his eyes, she would back away and shake her head. She simply couldn’t bring herself to introduce such a volatile subject when things were finally settling into a hopeful pattern of happiness for them. Even better than what she’d known before she’d disappeared from his life. Because there was truth between them.

Tasha finished dancing for the morning and cooled down, stretching out her muscles. When she opened the studio door and wandered into the kitchen, heading toward the washroom for a shower, David stopped her.

“Come here,” he grunted from his place at the table.

She pivoted and redirected over to him. He was sitting in a deceptively relaxed position with a coffee cup in front of him, facing the door she had just come through, as though waiting for her to emerge. She plopped down in the chair next to him and gave him a questioning look. “What’s up?” she asked a little breathlessly.

His shirt stretched deliciously across his hard chest and shoulders. Dancing always made her a little horny. Something about the blood flowing through her veins, the twisting and flowing of limbs and the imaginary voyeuristic audience. His light brown hair was messier than usual, as though he’d run a hand through it while he was waiting; a lock landed near his dark eyebrow. His eyes rarely gave away what he was thinking. She could never tell if she was in trouble or if he was just going to comment on the weather, which was usually either a steady mix of sleet and snow or grey skies. Tasha glanced toward the window. Gloomy as usual.

“Give me your feet,” he demanded.

Tasha frowned a little, but shifted her butt in the chair to automatically give him her feet, lifting to place them in his lap. She sighed a little on the inside and rolled her eyes at herself. She really was an obedient little woman. Life in rural Russia has been tough, but not unkind. She had been carefree. As a young girl, she had been taught to listen to her elders. Then, at the Bolshoi she had been committed to obey every demand without hesitation. It was the price she paid on her way to principal. A girl did not disobey if she wanted to be a star. She smiled pretty and danced even prettier, submitting to every command with flawless precision. Then David had come along and she had gone from one master to another. Handing her heart over in perfect obedience, like a lovely little puppet on its strings.

She held her breath as David ran his fingers gently over the bloody calluses along the tops of her toes and then the backs of her heels. A slight frown wrinkled her brow as his dark eyes met hers, dissatisfaction clearly evident at her pain. She dared him to say anything, to tell her she must stop dancing so much. Or stop dancing with such passion. Because Tasha was not a perfect puppet at all. Tasha had a temper. Perhaps she kept it boxed tight inside, but she would let it free. Especially if he threatened the one thing that brought her solace when her future still felt so unclear.

Instead he pressed his thumbs deep into the arches of her feet, massaging her, until she was moaning and squirming in her chair. Tasha couldn’t help herself. It felt so incredible, she actually gripped the table, tilted her head back until her dark ponytail brushed the top rung of the chair and moaned out loud. When she finally looked up, her eyes hooded with lust, he was staring back at her with equal intensity.

“Much as I’d like to take you up on that invitation,” he said gruffly. “I need to get us more supplies before the snow falls tonight. Wanted to ask if you’d like to go down the mountain with me this time?”

Tasha squealed in excitement, snapping out of her momentary stupor. She jerked her feet out of his lap so quickly that she damn near unmanned him where he sat. He looked amused as she flew toward the washroom, yelling over her shoulder, “Five minutes!”

He hadn’t let her off the mountain once since their arrival a month ago. Tasha was starving for any kind of outside stimulation. Though she didn’t mind her own company or even isolation, she was starved for the sight of another face. They didn’t have a TV and there was no proper internet signal besides the satellite connection that David used, so she had no way of connecting with the outside world. Tasha grinned as she took the fastest shower in history and threw on some clothes before meeting him at the door.

He gave her a stern look, but before he opened his mouth she begged, “Please, David. Don’t ruin this for me by saying something horrible, like you’ll murder me or someone else if I try to run away.”

He frowned down at her, his shoulders stiffening under his jacket. She rolled her eyes, grabbed his hand and threw the door open. “Come on! I promise I won’t do anything stupid. I won’t try to run away. I will be the model of wifely civility or whatever. Let’s go!”