Lesson in Romance, page 7
“Are you saying I have no talent?” she huffed.
“No, I already told you that you have a great voice, but this is a tough business. If something goes wrong, at least you have something to fall back on.”
Unlike me.
He walked over to the bench and plopped down.
“Writing and performing every day, night after night, city after city. For those that really care about the music, for every note you play, you tear away little pieces of your soul until one day there’s nothing left.”
She sat down, her hair tickling his arm. “And are you one of those people that care?”
He didn’t answer, while he wrestled with the part of him that wanted to tell her everything. But there was another part of him that still didn’t trust her. Not because she stole his music. It was something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Sometimes I don’t think I have the right to care.” He gestured toward his home and the forest beyond. “The right to all of this.”
She poked him in the arm. “Hello-oo? Who has a Grammy Award sitting on a shelf in his living room? Trust me, I like a guy who’s humble, but you need to give yourself a little more credit.”
“And here I thought you were into hotheaded jazz musicians,” he teased, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, loving the glow that lit up her cheeks.
“You know…” she paused, and her smile was shy this time “…I really am one of your biggest fans.”
He folded his arms. “Oh, really?”
She glanced down at his saxophone. “I’ve been following your career for a while, and I admire you a lot.”
The kindness in her eyes drew him into a place inside himself he wasn’t sure he wanted to explore.
“It’s got nothing to do with talent. I haven’t got a choice. Music is in my blood, it’s such a part of me that sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be in the real world.”
She tilted her head. “The real world?”
“Yeah, the one you and everyone else lives and works in. If I couldn’t play music, I’m not sure I could survive.”
She shook her head. “That will never happen.”
If only she knew.
“Learning to read could open up a whole new world to me, one I’m not sure I’m ready for. I’ve gotten along this far not knowing how to read, how will I survive actually knowing how to do it? Does that make any sense?”
She nodded. “A lot of my clients feel that way. I realize it might be scary, but you’re a long way off from that. Right now, I’m just trying to prepare you for the tour. After that, you can decide how fast or slow you want things to progress. I just need a little more time with you and then you’ll never have to see me again.”
At the thought of the weekend ending, he felt a twinge of sadness he didn’t understand.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I guess we better get cracking, huh?”
He stood, walked over to the shed and shut the door. He’d have to find some way to work on his tune later. Tommy would be calling him for an update tomorrow and he wanted to be able to tell him it was finished.
Although Cara’s rendition was beautiful, he would never use it on his album. For some reason, he wanted to keep her voice for his ears only.
She followed him. “Do you actually practice in here?”
“Yeah, when I don’t have a beautiful woman trying to teach me the ABC’s.”
The smile on her face warmed his heart. In fact, her very presence had a calming effect on him, and as they began to walk down the path to the house, he had the strongest urge to take her hand in his and never let go.
* * *
When they got back, Cara headed straight for the living room where she had already organized her teaching materials. Her goal for today was to focus on the book he would be reading during the tour.
She glanced at her watch and her eyes widened. Time was definitely not on their side. She had less than forty-eight hours to get Alex to a point where he would feel comfortable reading in front of an audience full of children.
Not an easy task with a man who she’d rather be lying in bed with laughing at Saturday-morning cartoons. Their feet, legs and arms wound around each other like a grapevine.
The fantasy disappeared when a vision of Beacon House, complete with boarded-up windows, graffiti and a padlock on the door, invaded her mind.
Panic crept into her veins at the consequences of failure. All her clients would have to go elsewhere for literacy services. And she would have to face her father, who would only be too glad to comfort the loss of her dream with one of his famous I-told-you-so speeches.
There was no way she was going to allow that to happen. Her stomach grumbled but she ignored it. It was time to get back to work. She glanced around, but while she had been daydreaming, Alex had disappeared. She figured he was in the kitchen, getting lunch.
“Grrr,” she grumbled. “That man!”
Just then she heard the floorboards squeak and she raced into the hallway. She gasped when she caught Alex climbing the stairs to the second floor.
“Oh, no, you don’t!”
She grabbed his hand, intent on dragging him back to the living room if she had to—all five foot one of her.
“You are not getting away this time.”
He stopped in his tracks and her heart fluttered when he turned and ran his thumb slowly over hers. When he turned on his heel and walked down the stairs, a look of chagrin on his face, she felt smug satisfaction.
Now we’re getting somewhere.
But her victory was short-lived. Her breath whooshed out of her when Alex suddenly put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.
“Oh, yeah? Who’s gonna stop me?” His eyes had a devilish gleam in them that Cara found hard to resist.
He rested his hands on the small of her back, and she could not help imagining them sliding down to cup her buttocks.
“I am.” Her defenses weakened as he drew her even closer, until she had no choice but to place her arms around his neck or have them squished between them.
“Hmm…” She felt his fingers trace a path up her spine until they nestled at the base of her neck. “Care to show me how?”
“I—I,” she stammered as he gently massaged her neck with the pad of his thumb.
“I have a variety of methods…um…that I employ for students who are chronic procrastinators.”
He smiled innocently. “You can’t be referring to me?”
She nodded, as tingles of sensation radiated throughout her spine. Her eyes slid shut as muscle tension melted into desire.
“Who else is in the room distracting me right now?” she murmured.
“I’m not trying to distract you. I’m trying to help you. You seemed so tense back in the garden.”
Her eyes snapped open and she tried to step away from his grasp, but he tightened his hold. She wanted to lay her head against his chest, nuzzle the muscles beneath his shirt, feel his heart beating.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she lifted her head and looked up into his hazel eyes. His face was unreadable and yet she sensed he was struggling, too.
But with what?
Her lip quivered slightly, but she steadied her voice. “You were so angry at me you told me to hit the road. So yes, I guess I was a little stressed out.”
He smiled down at her then and she wanted to shake her head in disbelief. From the intimate way he was embracing her, it didn’t seem like he was still angry. His arms, strong and warm, held on to her tightly, almost possessively.
And she didn’t mind one bit.
Still, it was hard for her to fathom how he could be so forgiving so soon, when what she’d done was unforgivable. She had yet to hear it from his lips, and feel it with her heart.
“Haven’t you ever heard the old saying that everything happens for a reason?” he inquired. “Maybe you taking my music will be the best thing that ever happened to me.”
She wanted to ask him how that could be possible, but she was afraid of the answer.
“But I’m still not sure if you’ve really forgiven me. Have you?” she said, hating the uncertainty in her voice.
“It isn’t easy,” he admitted with a sigh, his hands heavy on her shoulders. “If you haven’t figured it out already, I’m a pretty private person. I was starting to trust you, and that’s really hard for me to do, especially with a woman.”
“Why is that?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe because I’ve never been able to be myself with a woman. I like to have a good time, and that’s about as far as it goes.”
“Except when those good times hit the presses,” she added. “People, US Weekly, Ebony. It seems like you’re never with the same woman twice.”
He scowled. “Some of what you read is true, to an extent. But most of it isn’t. Being who I am and doing what I do for a living doesn’t come without a price. Someone always wants something from you. And if they don’t get it, they’ll tell anyone they did—for the right amount of money.”
She shook her head. “Fame. I think I’ll play it safe and just watch the movie.”
He laughed out loud. “That’s smart. The truth is I don’t open up to people very easily. Now whether that’s due to being famous or just a part of who I am, I don’t know. But despite everything,” he said, bringing his hand to her face, “for some reason, I’m starting to feel very comfortable with you.”
His words were like a dream, too good to be true, yet wasn’t that what she’d wanted to hear all these years? A part of her desperately wanted to believe him. The other part screamed, “Watch out girl, he’s a player!”
She pushed both thoughts to the curb as he traced the underline of her jaw with his finger. She closed her eyes, succumbing to the allure of the roughened tip against her soft skin, the feel of his arms around her.
How many times had Cara wished it was her in the glamorous designer gown holding his arm on the red carpet, at the latest club, or dining at the finest restaurants?
But the reality was this: he was a famous musician who made a habit of courting beautiful women, while she made a habit of cozying up with a good book. He was totally out of her league, and if she didn’t wake up out of this fantasy, she would lose the only thing she cared about—Beacon House.
She stopped his hand with her own and wriggled out of his grasp.
“I think it’s time we got back to business.”
At her professional tone, Alex opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, then nodded his head. “Okay, but on one condition.”
She cast him a wary glance. “Sure, what is it?”
“Have dinner with me tonight. It’ll be fun. We’ll eat, then head on over to the club.”
She felt giddy and woozy at the same time. “Dinner? Club?”
“Yeah, every time I’m up this way, I sit in with the house band at the Jazz Hideaway, it’s a local jazz club in town. Is that okay with you?”
She swallowed hard. “Sounds great! Now that we have all of that out of the way, can we please get to work now?”
“Sure. Let me just make us some quick sandwiches. I’m starving, aren’t you?”
She nodded. Her stomach was grumbling. Plus, if they ate now, they could work until it was almost dinnertime.
“That would be wonderful. I have a surprise for you!”
“A surprise?” He raised his eyebrows. “I can’t wait.”
He reached out a finger and traced the roundness of her cheeks, leaving her knees shaking. “See you in class in fifteen minutes.”
She blushed at the sensual undertones in his voice. As he walked down the hall to the kitchen, the heat of his fingers danced on her skin with the undeniable promise of seduction.
Chapter 6
Back in the living room, Cara’s encounter with Alex left her dazed and aroused. She could no longer deny her attraction to him. Her body was telling her to go forward, but her negative balance sheet knew better. If there was ever a time to just get the job done, it was now.
But how to resist him, she thought as she sank down into the couch and flopped against the pillows.
Every time she tried to keep their interactions all business and no play, he broke through her professional demeanor with his sexy smile and a masculine vulnerability that was utterly endearing.
She’d realized a long time ago that her heart was her weakest link, and it started and ended with Alex.
He returned with lunch. “I hope you’re hungry,” he announced. “Turkey sandwiches on rye, pita chips and fresh lemonade.”
Plate in hand, he turned to give it to her and suddenly stopped.
“What’s that behind your back?”
She gave him a sly smile. “Something that will change your life!”
“Hmm.” He set her plate back on the tray. “Let me guess. A baby?”
Cara laughed out loud. “No!”
Alex snapped his fingers. “Darn. Other than marriage, that’s the only thing I can think of that would turn my world upside-down. Except if I won the Powerball. Now that would be cool! I’d be a gazillionaire!”
She giggled. “Well, this is kind of like hitting the lottery, at least in my opinion.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Let me at it!”
He tried to reach around her waist to grab it, but Cara scooted away to the opposite end of the couch.
“Ta-da!” she shouted with flourish and held the book in the palm of her hands, directly in front of her breasts.
His eyes narrowed. “Is that the one I’m going to be reading?”
She nodded, pointed to the title. “Can you spell out the letters for me?
Her breath hitched as he moved his body closer to hers until their knees were almost touching.
He frowned. “I’ll give it a try.”
Putting his finger under the words, he traced and spoke each letter.
“T-H-E…”
It was impossible, but she swore she could feel the slow path of his fingertip on her skin through the hardcover of the book.
“J-U-N-G-L-E…”
At his every touch, her loins pulsated with pleasure and she shivered involuntarily. What if there were nothing between his fingers and her skin? For a moment, her imagination ran wild at the thought.
“T-R-U-M-P-E-T-E-E-R.”
He stopped talking and looked at her. The fantasy dissolved and left her cheeks tingling with embarrassment.
“The Jungle Trumpeteer,” she pronounced. “Very good! I’m proud of you!”
He looked skeptical. “This isn’t one of these ‘Dick and Jane’ books is it? Because if it is, I’m not reading it. Unless—” he flashed a wicked smile “—it’s the porn version, of course.”
She gasped. “Be serious, okay?” she said, and pretended to smack him lightly on the head with the book. “Don’t worry. This book is a simple read that will stimulate your imagination.”
He grinned. “I’m going to need a lot more than a book. How are you at massages?”
Heat flared her cheeks at his flirtatious question. What had gotten into this man?
“Uh,” she stammered. “That’s not part of my lesson plan.”
He shrugged. “Oh, well. Can’t blame a guy for trying. So what’s next? Should I sit on the floor crisscross applesauce?”
She burst out laughing. “One step at a time, okay? Feet on the floor and keep your hands to yourself. Do you think you can do that?”
His eyes penetrated hers and she felt his desire reflecting her own.
“I can. I’m just not sure I want to.” His silken voice caressed her with unspoken meaning.
Although it was very difficult to do, she elected to ignore his comment.
“Just let me read the book to you all the way through with no interruptions.”
“Okay,” he said with a resigned sigh. “You read. I eat.”
Satisfied that he was momentarily distracted by food, she cleared her throat and began to read.
The story was about an elephant who believed his trunk was a musical instrument. When he played it, he was able to rid the jungle of poachers and ultimately saved all the animals.
She closed the book. “How’s that for a happy ending? Well, what do you think?”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Cara had a strong feeling his upbeat mood had suddenly soured. He sat there quietly and finished his sandwich, his brow knit together as if he were in deep thought. If she had held her breath in suspense, she would have turned blue.
Finally, he leaned back against the pillows. “Thank you for not torturing me with See Spot Run.” He turned his head toward hers, and her heart did a little flip. “But I still don’t know about all this.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, sensing his trepidation.
“Do you really think I can do it?”
“Of course I do, Alex,” she said softly, patting his arm, the muscle underneath tight with tension. “You have the basic concepts down. Now it’s just a matter of applying what you’ve already learned. It shouldn’t be too hard.”
He palmed his head, his voice ragged. “What if I mess everything up? Those kids will see me struggling with the words and—”
“And they’ll see someone who’s trying to do his best,” she replied firmly.
He sat up quickly and she dropped her hand to her side.
“But what kind of man doesn’t know how to read?” he said in a disgusted tone. “I’m thirty years old! It’s too late.”
His negative words didn’t surprise her. It was normal for people to feel scared and anxious about learning to do anything they thought they should have learned when they were younger. Whether it was learning to read, playing a musical instrument, riding a bike, or in her case, learning to love and trust someone.
