Private Melody

Bringing fist to chin, he settled in to observe her behind the glossy black piano. The animated look on her rich cinnamon-toned face, as she talked with the members of the group, brought a smile to Therin’s face. No doubt she was a lovely thing to look at. He wondered how much of that played into her success, though no one could argue against her talent.

Therin recalled their breakfast conversation then and the relaxing mood he’d sensed surrounding her. He remembered the feel of her small foot when he’d held it and grinned on the memory. He’d never enjoyed breakfast or a conversation more.

The set was nearing its end, tugging Therin from his reverie as he once again observed her with the band—especially the drummer. It was clear that they were close, which had him smiling but not in a completely amused way. He thought back to her entourage—the four men who’d given him the distinct impression that they’d lay down their lives for her. How could they not feel that way? he queried silently as the muscle twitched along his jawbone when her drummer friend pulled her in for a hug.

Get the hell out of here, Therin, he warned himself. He should go before she had any idea he was near. An involvement like this would never work. He lived in Canada, for Pete’s sake! Watching her near the stage and chatting away, Therin’s grim expression vanished and a smile emerged.

“Could I bring you anything, sir?”

Therin looked up at the young woman who’d approached the table. She held a pen poised over the small round tray she carried.

“I’d like to have a drink sent over to the pianist.” He nodded slowly toward the stage.

The waitress smiled while jotting down the instruction. “Shall I tell Ms. Lawrence who’s being so generous?”

“I’ll remain anonymous.” Therin’s bright gaze was still focused on Kianti.

“Not a problem.” The waitress cast one last lingering and blatantly flattering gaze at her mysterious customer.

Therin stood and dropped a few bills to the woman’s tray and then graced her with a sly wink before turning to make his way out of the club.

Dammit, Key, get over it!

Kianti smacked the soapy loofah pad against her thigh while issuing herself the order. She was acting like some love-struck girl whose family was moving away and taking her from a boy she’d known all of two seconds. Granted, she’d known the sexy ex-ambassador for a little longer. Still, nothing had happened that meant anything meaningful or otherwise would come from it.

Otherwise. She let the word linger in her head and felt a heat that had nothing to do with the shower spray hitting her skin. She would have enjoyed experiencing otherwise with Therin Rucker.

She smacked herself again with the loofah pad. All that would have gotten her was a trip to the hospital. If her heart struggled to withstand exertion from a piano performance, how would it withstand a sexual encounter?

Smirking then, she told herself that it might withstand just fine. Therin Rucker came across as quite the gentleman. If that persona carried over into the bedroom, perhaps there wouldn’t be much exertion required.

Kianti applied more gel to the pad and considered the idea. Something told her the dashing politician left his manners at the door when pleasure was at stake. She sensed a fire, something unrelenting at rest beneath that polished exterior. Yes, there was a side to the man that, if unleashed sexually, could require much…exertion on the part of its recipient.

She pressed a hand to her belly and moaned. She’d gone so long without indulging in that very enjoyable pastime. Only to herself would she admit that given another couple of days in Therin Rucker’s presence, she would’ve had him in her bed and exerting herself to the fullest.

The loofah smacked her thigh a third time. “Get over it,” she growled.

Somewhere a phone rang. Kianti leaned out of the shower to grab the wall mount next to the stall.

“Ms. Lawrence…Casey O’Dell down here at the gate. You’ve got a guest here. Mr. Therin Rucker.”

Her hand returned to her belly and then to her mouth where she tapped her fingers to her lips.

“Ms. Lawrence?”

Kianti took stock of her appearance in the mirror across from the shower. “Send him up.”

Therin inhaled the second he stepped from the elevator that deposited him in the middle of a room that whispered serenity and expansive comfort. Softly lit, the living room’s mellow appeal was evident not only by the cream-on-gold furnishings but also by the long window overlooking the ocean from the home’s rocky perch. He smiled then, further eased by the sound of her voice.

“Mr. Ambassador.”

Therin turned and any ease he was experiencing was quickly replaced by need. Somewhere—somehow he was able to latch on to restraint.

“I’m sorry…” He bowed his head while uttering the apology. “I, um… Your guard didn’t tell me you…”

Kianti tossed back her head. “It’s okay. I told him to send you on up.”

“I promised to say goodbye.” He spouted the first thing that came to his mind.

She bit her lip on a smile. “Well, I hope you’re not about to do that.”

Therin rolled his eyes. To hell with it. It’d serve her right for greeting him in a towel with that gorgeous mane of hair piled atop her head and bubbles still clinging to her cinnamon skin. With that in mind, he bounded over, snagged the front of the towel and drew her close.

Kianti was an eager and immediate participant in the thorough kiss. Her moans raised an instant after his tongue began its enthusiastic duel with hers. Wavering and shamefully erotic, the sounds came from the back of her throat. She stood on her toes and her fingers curled tight into the tails of the burgundy shirt hanging outside the black carpenter’s jeans he wore.

Therin needed to cast off the heat about to consume him but he was already caressing the seductive swells of her breasts. His sleek ebony brows drew closer and he deepened the kiss. Any second, and her towel would be on the floor.

He pulled away then. “You need to get dressed.” His tone was gruff and he turned away. One of them had to exercise a cool head. Why? He had no idea, but the thought had managed to give him pause regardless.

“I didn’t ask you to stop,” she sweetly reminded him.

“Unfortunately,” he winced and realized he’d spoken aloud, before massaging the bridge of his nose. “Get dressed.” His tone was almost pleading then. While he intended to have her—all of her—it was far too soon to indulge in the many things he wanted to do with her. “Kianti…”

She waved toward the living room. “Have a seat, I’ll be right back.” She watched him stroll toward the window instead. Yes, manners left at the door when pleasure was at stake, she silently confirmed on her way out of the room.

“Is this better?” she asked minutes later.

Therin tried not to stare. Her gray lounge dress had its wrist-hugging sleeves and was made of a clingy cotton material. While covering every inch of her skin, it emphasized every dip and curve she possessed. The only thing on his mind then, was whether or not she was nude beneath it.

He waited on her to choose a seat. Kianti noted that he seemed pleased that she didn’t select the sofa but curled up on one of the overstuffed chairs flanking it.

“May I get you anything?” she asked once he’d settled on the chair before her.

“I’m good.” His light, deep-set eyes scanned the room in one continuous take. “Some place you’ve got here.”

“Isn’t it?” She propped a fist against her thick hair trussed up in a flouncy ponytail and smiled. “Got it from an elderly scientist I met after a concert. The lower level where you came in used to be his lab. I converted it into a private studio.”

“Impressive.”

“Very. That elevator was once the only access—comes right up through the cliffs the house sits on.”

Therin whistled.

Kianti shrugged. “The guys forbid me to take it. But if it gets stuck, the top panels open and there’s a ladder that leads up to the house.”

“Good to know.” He laughed.

“They had me have the top-level access constructed.” She smoothed her hands over the dress’s long snug sleeves. “If you’d come past the other houses, I could’ve greeted you personally.”