Weddings: the Brides: The Shy Bride / Bride in a Gilded Cage / The Bride's Awakening

“I thought you would appreciate the expediency of getting right to your lesson.”

Without waiting for her to offer, he took a seat beside her on the piano bench. “You could not hear me arrive.”

“I did not need to. You knew where to come.”

“That is not the point.”

“Isn’t it?” She looked at him as if she truly did not understand his problem.

“No.”

“All right. Shall we start where we left off last week?”

Neo was not accustomed to being dismissed, in any form. Yet, rather than get angry, he couldn’t help admiring the fact the shy woman had so adroitly shifted focus to the reason he was there.

Which was not to lecture her about her habit of leaving the door on the latch, he reminded himself.

He enjoyed Cassandra’s soft voice as she guided him through the day’s lesson. Her passion for her craft was apparent in every word she spoke and the very way she touched the piano they played. A man would give a great deal to be touched by a lover with such intense dedication.

And his thinking no doubt explained the inexplicable arousal he experienced during something as innocent as piano lessons.

CHAPTER TWO

CASSANDRA covered her mouth as she yawned for the third time in ten minutes. She hadn’t slept well the night before each one of Neo’s lessons since the first one five weeks ago. In the beginning, it had been her usual anxiety from inviting someone new into her life, even if it was only for an hour a week.

But anxiety had slowly and strangely morphed into anticipation. And she didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if Neo went out of his way to be friendly. He could not be mistaken for anything but a driven businessman, but she found herself truly enjoying his company. He took his lessons seriously, though it was obvious he did not practice between times.

His manner could best be described as abrupt, often arrogant. Strangely enough, she discovered a peace in his presence she did not experience with anyone else. She tried to analyze it, but couldn’t come up with a reason for finding his company so pleasurable.

He’d become less adamant about what she had at first considered the “no pleasantries” rule. He did not complain when she went off on a tangent, discussing her favorite thing—music. He even asked intelligent questions that exhibited both a surprising interest and understanding.

So, she didn’t feel too worried bringing up something that had been nagging at her since first meeting him. “You drive a Mercedes.”

“Yes.” It was clearly an invitation to continue as he played the chords she had just shown him.

“Well, you aren’t wearing a Rolex, but you are wearing a custom-tailored designer suit.”

“You are observant,” he said with that little twitch of his lips she’d come to crave in some strange way.

“I suppose.”

“But I do not see the point.” He gave her a questioning look as his hands stilled on the keys.

“I would have expected you to drive a Ferrari, or something.”

“Ah, I see.” He smiled.

Really smiled.

And everything inside Cass flipped.

Like kapow to her midsection. This was not good. She’d never had a reaction like this to a student, or to anyone for that matter. But, seriously? His smile should come with a warning label. Something like: One glimpse is fatal!

“Few people are open enough to admit when they notice what they consider the inconsistencies of the wealthy man.”

“I don’t do subterfuge well.” She hated social situations to begin with, adding deception to the mix only complicated things to the point of horror for her.

The smile turned into a full-out grin. “That is good to know.”

“Is it?” If she’d thought she’d been in danger before, now was absolute Armageddon.

“Yes. Back to your question. It was a question, was it not?” He spoke with a slight Greek accent she found entirely too delicious.

She needed to get out more. Yeah. Right. That was so going to happen. She bit back a sigh. Not. Not going to happen and no matter how lovely she found his accent, it hardly mattered, did it?

It had surprised her at first, but then she’d decided it was to be expected. The information she had found about him online indicated he had left Greece as a young man. However, one article she read said that he spoke Greek with his business partner and had done several property developments in his country of origin over the years.

“Probably a nosy question, but yes,” she finally answered.

“I do not mind your kind of nosy. The paparazzi demanding to know the name and measurements for my latest girlfriend is another thing entirely.”

Heat suffused her neck and cheeks. “Yes, well, I can guarantee you I won’t be asking those sorts of questions.”

“No, your curiosity is much more innocent.” Which seemed to please him. Odd.

She certainly didn’t find her own innocence all that pleasing.

“To answer it, a man does not amass great wealth in a single lifetime by spending his money frivolously. My clothing is necessary to present a certain façade for our investors and buyers. My watch is rated as technically accurate and as sound as a Rolex, but only cost a few hundred rather than several thousand. My car is expensive enough to impress, but not ridiculously so for something that amounts to nothing more than a piece of equipment to get me from Point A to Point B.”

“Unlike many men, your car is not one of your toys.”

“I stopped playing with toys years before I left the orphanage I never called home.”

She’d read that he had lived in an orphanage before leaving Athens. For all that his publicity people allowed the world to know, there was a cloak of mystery around his growing-up years.

Which was something she could understand. While her official biography for publicity purposes revealed that both her parents were dead, it said nothing about her mother’s protracted illness. Nor did it mention years spent in a house shrouded in silence and steeped in fear of losing the person both she and her father had loved above all others.

Her father’s death as the result of an unexpected, massive heart attack had made the headlines at the time. Mostly because it had heralded the end of rising star Cassandra Baker’s public performances. Her withdrawal into seclusion had garnered more press than a good, if sometimes misguided, man’s death.

“Some men try to make up for losing their childhood by having a second one.”

“I am too busy.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You did not have a childhood, either.” He said it so matter-of-factly.

Like it didn’t really matter. And hadn’t she decided a long time ago, that it didn’t? The past could not be changed.