Lesson in Romance, page 5
“It’s okay,” she stammered. “It must have been difficult coming back and finding all that stuff out.”
He nodded, not taking his eyes off hers, sucking her in and surprising her with the desire she saw there, making her want to drown in it.
“It was, but I had no right to take it out on you and I want to apologize.”
She watched his full lips as he spoke to her, and when her mouth began to water she slipped her hand from his.
“You already have. The thing you have to do is to keep at this. I know it’s hard, but I’ll help you. No matter how long it takes.
“And—” she winked “—if you promise to stay on task, I promise…” She quickly racked her mind for ideas and blurted out the first one that popped into her head. “I’ll make dinner tonight!”
He leaned back against the pillows with a grin that could light up a city block. “Now that’s one offer I can’t refuse.”
* * *
Two hours later, Alex braced his palms against the tile and gritted his teeth as cold water streamed over his body. Arching his back, he shivered more from disbelief than discomfort even though he felt like he was going to explode.
He never would have guessed learning the ABC’s would be such an incredible turn-on.
He didn’t know what it was about Cara, but he was so attracted to her he could barely concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing. Instead, all he could think about was making love to her.
For him, the afternoon had been a lesson in restraint.
He had to stop himself from tugging on the bun in her hair to release her unruly curls, from caressing her neck and stroking the outside of her thighs when they brushed against his. Her full lips had his complete attention when she spoke, even if the subject matter didn’t.
He smiled and wondered whether if he kissed her her caramel skin would glow like it did when he teased her. How would it respond if he were to taste her?
Thinking of her in his arms, he didn’t need to look down to know his erection was still at the ready, with no means of release other than by his own hand, and he knew doing that would be wholly unsatisfying. It would just make him want her even more.
His teeth chattered as he sucked in his breath and wished he could make the water colder, even though it was like ice right now.
Alex grabbed the soap and thought about how much he enjoyed flirting with her. Still, it unnerved him that his initial fear of talking to her was starting to disappear. He didn’t like the fact he let down his guard a little too easily around her, often without realizing it until it was too late.
First, he’d told her the story of the man who humiliated him on the subway. She didn’t have too much of a reaction to that one, or at least one that he noticed. Being an adult literacy teacher, she’d probably heard all sorts of horror stories.
But when he talked about his brother, told her Michael was a twin, he noticed right away the look of shock that came over her face, like she’d seen a ghost or heard some devastating news.
Although he found it odd she would react that way, he supposed many people would be surprised if they knew he had a brother, let alone a twin. He didn’t discuss Michael, or any part of his private life, with anybody.
The women he dated were only interested in his money and VIP status, and the press was so busy trying to keep up with his bachelor escapades that they rarely bothered to dig into his past.
That was a good thing.
Pain filled his heart and he squeezed his eyes shut to try to make it go away. But it never did.
His mind reverted back to Cara. If she ever discovered what he’d done in his past, she’d have a different impression of him than she did right now, he realized with a frown.
She probably already thought he was a nut, and he had nobody to blame but himself for his behavior. Happy and joking one minute, storming off the next. But he’d been that way for months, maybe even years. He’d been in a funk so long he’d lost count. It wasn’t exactly depression…he just didn’t give a damn anymore.
Alex sighed as he twisted his body around to rinse off. So many times during his life he’d been unable to connect with a woman in a personal way.
He spent his days and nights performing, rehearsing, teaching, touring and countless other things that he had to do in order to be able to call himself a professional musician. His hectic schedule didn’t leave a whole lot of time for himself or anyone else for that matter.
He stepped out of the shower and toweled off. While he balked at being in a serious relationship with any woman, in the back of his mind, he knew he was missing out.
He stood naked in front of the full-length mirror. In his mind, he saw Cara, her hair spiraling over her shoulders, wearing nothing but desire. The lush curve of her ass, soft breasts tilted up, back arching, hands reaching, and she belonged only to him.
His eyes slid shut, but the image remained and teased.
Go away!
Music was all that mattered in his life. He’d made a conscious choice to be alone, and nothing was going to change that.
Almost against his will, Alex moved closer to the image of Cara in his mind. A few seconds later, his eyes jolted open when he made contact with the mirror. Face contorted in a grimace, he looked down and hoped he’d be able to train his body, and his mind, to stay away from her.
* * *
Meanwhile, Cara was downstairs frantically searching for a cookbook. After offering to make dinner, the turnaround in Alex’s attention span was downright miraculous. Now she was kicking herself for her kindness.
She knew her way around a take-out menu and could order a meal in several languages. But the kitchen? Foreign territory she didn’t dare tread unless there was a powerful yet easy-to-use microwave and a stack of frozen meals in the fridge.
After opening every cupboard, pawing through all the drawers and coming up empty, she blew out a breath and anchored her hands around her hips. She was on her own.
She opened the door of the king-size stainless-steel refrigerator, her eyes widening in amazement. All this food for one man?
Then she remembered Alex was supposed to be entertaining Kiki tonight. Maybe the woman ate as much as he did. “Chick-a-bow, chick-a-bow, chick-a-bow-wow,” she mumbled under her breath.
Checking the meat drawer, she found a couple of strip steaks. An avid fan of cooking shows but normally too busy to try any of the recipes herself, she knew she could broil the meat quickly.
After turning the oven on, she found some red potatoes, a package of frozen green beans and a large head of lettuce. She filled two pots with water and set them on the stovetop to boil, made a tossed salad and concocted a simple marinade for the steaks out of olive oil, garlic powder and ground peppercorns.
All without having a nervous breakdown.
She breathed a sigh of relief, then frowned when she realized the only thing missing was some bread, one of her favorite foods and an absolute must-have part of her diet.
She moved toward the pantry and spotted a large, unopened box of biscuit mix.
After a quick glance at the instructions, she opened the package and removed the plastic bag from inside the box. She tried to pull it apart, but used too much force and the bag suddenly exploded, spewing biscuit mix everywhere.
She started to clean up the mess, but stopped when she heard the water going off upstairs. Alex would be down any minute and she wanted to get the biscuits in the oven before he got there.
After pouring what was left of the mix into a bowl, she added milk and frantically began to stir. Just as the dough began to form, she heard the rhythmic hiss and splash of water. She lifted her head and yelped as both pots boiled over.
Spoon clattering to the floor, she sprinted to the stove and turned the gas down under each burner. Whirling around, she leaned against the counter and was fanning herself in relief when Alex walked into the room.
He stopped in his tracks and his eyes grew large.
“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!” he hummed. The amused expression on his face made her cheeks tingle.
Flustered, she picked up the spoon and tossed it into the sink. “So I had a little trouble making the biscuits.”
She swiped a few loose strands of hair off her face. “And I forgot to put the potatoes on to boil, the steaks on to broil, and well…” Her voice trailed off. “The truth is…I don’t know how to cook.”
His eyes twinkled. “Well, then, let me help you.”
She started to protest, but Alex was already pitching in. He put the steaks in the broiler and added the potatoes and the green beans to their respective pots while she began to roll out the dough.
“Hold up. You’re doing it all wrong.”
She turned her head to look at him and her breath caught in her throat. He was standing so close that she could see a tiny nick on the edge of his jaw where he had cut himself shaving.
“And I suppose you know the right way?” she countered.
He nodded, a mysterious gleam in his eyes that made Cara’s stomach do a one-eighty. “There’s a special, yet mostly unknown technique to making biscuits. Now it’s time for you to get schooled.” He winked and gently nudged her aside.
“First you need to prepare your surface, so the dough won’t stick.” His voice held a tone of grave solemnity and Cara masked a smile as he scattered flour on the counter and spread it with his palm.
He rubbed a little flour on the shaft of the rolling pin and a thousand thoughts went through her mind, none of which had anything to do with making biscuits.
Her pulse quickened as Alex guided her right hand up to grasp the handle of the rolling pin and went into a full gallop when he reached around her waist to do the same with her other hand.
Cara craned her head toward his, eyes full of questions. His only answer was a smile as he laid his hands over hers and laced their fingers together, his hip hovering against her waist.
“Now apply firm, but gentle pressure,” instructed Alex, his cheek next to hers, his voice lower than usual.
His warm breath caressed her ear, curled her toes. “Like this.”
His chest, wide and hard-muscled, pressed into her shoulder blades, and she inhaled the fresh scent of soap and spicy aftershave. Heat from his hands and fingers penetrated hers and she grasped the handles tighter to keep her hands from slipping.
Together they eased the rolling pin over the dough, his body close enough to tantalize but far enough away to tease. Back and forth. Forward and back. Every so often, her breasts would skim the counter’s surface, nipples budding instantly. Lips parted in a trancelike thrill.
Both bending and rolling. Both feeling and desiring.
Eyes half-lidded, her buttocks swished against the silky fabric of his basketball shorts, discovered the hard length beneath. The brief contact left her wet and tight and hungry with need.
Alex abruptly stepped back, their damp fingers stuck together briefly as he loosened his grip.
“Looks like you’ve got the hang of it now.”
She opened her eyes and turned to face him, tingling with desire, already missing the presence of his body near hers.
She inhaled deeply. “What’s the next step?” she said eagerly.
He handed her a glass. “You can cut them out with this.”
Twenty awkward minutes later, they sat down to eat. When they both reached for a biscuit at the same time, they laughed and the tension was broken.
“Like minds, like biscuits, I guess!” laughed Cara.
He laughed, then gave her a strange look.
Her smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
He reached across the table and dabbed her cheek with his napkin. “There’s a little bit of biscuit mix here,” he murmured, his touch gentle. “There. All better.”
She touched her hair and wondered if it too was flecked with biscuit mix. She must look like a mess. “Thanks.”
While Alex poured the wine, Cara took the first bite. “Mmm!” she exclaimed.
“I propose a toast.” He lifted his glass. “To teachable moments. I think we both learned something today.”
She was stunned, and more than a little scared, by the flash of heat that rocketed through her body as their eyes met in silent agreement.
Throughout the delicious meal, Alex entertained her with funny stories about his European tour. But while she was laughing, the headlines detailing his relationships with other women scrolled like tickertape in her head. As Harlem’s most eligible bachelor, he’d dated pop stars, reality stars, Broadway stars and even a star forward in the WNBA.
A painful lump rose in her throat, urging her to face the facts. She knew that even if Alex had been flirting with her earlier, and she still didn’t want to allow herself to believe that he was, it was only a tool in his repertoire of seduction.
To her, it meant everything. To him, it meant absolutely nothing.
Chapter 4
Alex slowed to a jog, lifting his shirt to wipe the perspiration from his brow. He’d woken at dawn and run ten miles through the dense forest and winding country roads surrounding his property, but it was no use.
He couldn’t get Cara out of his mind.
Half walking, half limping along the path, he knew he’d pushed himself too hard. While he was in good shape, his hectic tour schedule had left him little time to hit the hotel gyms. When he reached the garden, he sank down onto the worn wooden bench.
Yawning, he rubbed his eyes and stared ahead in awe. The sun was just beginning to crest over the mountains, tinting the sky in pale hues of pink and orange, inviting the residents in the valley below to rise and shine. It was a scene that demanded to be shared with someone special.
Cara.
Her almond-shaped eyes had pierced his own as they ate dinner last night, seeming to beckon him.
No way, not happening. He’d never shown this place to any woman, and he wasn’t going to start now.
With a low grunt, he stretched his sore legs and inhaled the fragrant air. Linking his hands behind his neck, he looked around, and the empty feeling he had inside ebbed away. This was his mecca, a private space he’d created in a small clearing at the edge of the forest, far away from the grit and glamour of New York City.
From the tin-roofed old shed that slanted sideways like a drunk trying to keep his balance, to the trees, the beautiful wildflowers and shade-loving plants. Here he could relax, reflect and rejuvenate. Here he could hide from the pressures of the world, and sometimes (though he didn’t want to admit it) from himself.
“Soul Man” burst through the calm. Alex flipped open his phone.
“Hey, if you’re planning on stabbing me in the back, could you at least do it while I’m in the country?” he growled.
“You’re still pissed,” said Tommy, his voice raspy from a two-pack-a-day smoking habit he refused to quit.
“Damn straight.” Alex stood up, ignoring the pain. “You had no right to—”
“To what? Did you really think I was going to stand by and let you trash your career over pride?” Tommy’s voice edged up over the sounds of clanging silverware. Alex knew he was at his favorite diner, eating steak and eggs with a side of oatmeal, and his stomach growled.
“It’s not about pride, it’s about principle. I’ll learn to read when I want to, not because somebody tells me I have to.”
“Looks like three months in Europe didn’t soften you up one bit. You’re still as hardheaded as ever.”
Alex could almost see the old man shaking his head from side to side, something he did whenever they didn’t agree on something. The gesture was almost fatherly. The fact was, Tommy was the closest thing to a dad Alex had ever known.
He ran his hand down his face, exasperated. Twigs snapped and broke on the forest floor as he paced back and forth. “C’mon, man. You know I wouldn’t have signed off on something like this.”
“Look, I’m sorry, but we’ve been over this already. You don’t have a choice.”
Alex scowled. “I thought you were trying to push back the dates or even cancel this stupid book tour. I don’t understand why you—”
“Calm down, Alex.” Tommy took a breath. “I talked to Mo late yesterday.”
“And?” He stopped pacing, his stomach coiling into a knot.
“No deal.”
Frustrated, he bunched up his shirt in his fist. “What did Mo say exactly?”
“He wanted to know why you wanted to cancel the book tour and I told him you were exhausted. That you needed time to recover.”
“Man, that’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.” Alex snorted, releasing his shirt and wiping his hands on his shorts. “You make me sound like a prima donna or something. No wonder he didn’t take you up on it.”
“What else could I tell him? The truth? I did my best.”
“I know, I know. But can’t you—”
“Listen, the bottom line is, you can’t afford to make Mo mad right now.”
Alex hated to admit it, but Tommy was right. As usual. He sucked in a slow breath.
“Sorry I was so rough on you. I just hate this.”
“I know, man. But it’ll all be over soon. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can think of something else to put you back in Mo’s win column.”
Tommy didn’t sound very convinced, and Alex knew he was just trying to make him feel better.
“By the way, how’s everything going with Miss Williams?”
“Great!” Besides the fact that just looking at her lips, her legs and everything in between made him harder than he’d ever thought was possible.
“Good. And what else?” Tommy prodded.
“And,” he hedged, “I’m earning gold stars and smiley-face stickers left and right. Happy now?”
