My Special Angel (7 page)

Read My Special Angel Online

Authors: Marcia Evanick

BOOK: My Special Angel
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“If it was in your head, how did you lose it?”

“I wish I knew.” Nadia sighed. She turned around and shrugged her shoulders. Nothing had gone right in the past five days. IRS had broken out of the corral twice, two great job prospects for her father and Uncle Rupa had fallen through, and this morning her mother had told her that her brother Mikol hadn’t been seen in two days. The only thing she had accomplished in the past five days were some translations of a couple of other songs that were already written. It was a difficult and slow process, translating words to fit the same melody in six different languages, but she was bound and determined not only to fulfill the contract but to meet the option clause. The extra money could go a long way toward purchasing a used tractor for the ranch and acquiring a couple of brood mares for IRS to mate with. All that was missing was one last song. She had to get back the music before October, when she was supposed to start recording.

“How do you figure I’m the one who caused you to lose it?”

“Because it was there before you kissed me.”

It took a moment before a huge grin lit up Owen’s face, and his eyes sparkled with delight. “Are you saying that I kissed the music straight out of your head?”

She frowned at the gleam in his eye. He didn’t have to look so damn pleased. Her chin tilted up an inch, and she held her ground as Owen stood up. “All I am saying is, it was there before you kissed me.”

Owen tried to tamp down his grin but failed utterly. “I’ve never been accused of kissing someone’s music away before.”

“It wasn’t just music, Owen. It is my livelihood”—her voice cracked with tension—“and the sole means of support for my entire family.”

The grin vanished instantly. She wasn’t joking. Whatever creative process was involved in her songwriting had been stopped. Her future as an international children’s singer was in jeopardy. He took a couple of steps toward her and reached for her hand. “I’m sorry, Nadia. I don’t mean to make light of the situation, but I’m having trouble connecting my kissing you to your losing the music in your head.”

“If you think you’re having a hard time, imagine it from my side. One simple dinner date, that’s all it was supposed to be. No dancing, no dark movie theaters, nothing but food and conversation for a couple of hours.” She glanced down at the intertwined fingers and frowned. Her hand looked so small and helpless compared with his. She wondered what it would feel like to allow Owen’s strength to support her. She released his hand and took a safe step back away from the temptation. “I asked myself what could one date hurt?” She shrugged her shoulders and made a vain attempt to laugh at her own foolishness.

He leaned his hip against the side of the desk and tried to think logically. “Maybe what you are suffering from is writer’s block?”

“I’m not a writer, Owen. I’m a musician. I hear music.” She gestured wildly around the room with her hands. “Normally I could stand in this room and hear the music it plays for me.”

“Rooms play music for you?”

Nadia glanced around the spacious study and groaned. “See the rich, dark wood?” She waved to the paneled walls and the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. “They hum to me.” She moved her hand toward the French doors. “The gentle sunlight streaming into the room makes a light, airy sound. Your desk would give off your presence, and the paperwork and blueprints will build in volume parroting what you do, you create and build.” Her hands fell helplessly by her side in frustration. “Everything in this room would sing, hum, or serenade me.”

“Won’t it be hard to separate all the different sounds?”

“No.” She relaxed slightly. At least he hadn’t laughed. “It’s just like decorating. The walls, the books, the desk, even the curtains—all pull together and create one room. When I listen, I hear one melody, created by all the things.”

Owen glanced around his office in amazement. He never thought about music like that. Curiously he asked, “What do you hear now?”

Nadia followed his gaze and concentrated. She clasped her hands together in front of her and closed her eyes as tears flooded them. “I hear nothing but your voice.” She slowly opened her eyes and willed the tears away.

He couldn’t stand the look of total defeat etched into her face. Breaking his resolve not to crowd her, he gently pulled her into his arms and held her close. “Don’t worry—we’ll find your music.”

Nadia allowed herself the luxury of relying on his strength for just one moment. She was tired, scared, and at the end of her rope. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his sturdy shoulder. Cool cotton pressed against the warm skin of her cheek, and the tantalizing scent of Owen’s cologne mixed with the lemony scent of fabric softener filled her nostrils. Warm hands lightly smoothed her back, granting her a moment of security. Maybe with Owen’s help she would find her music. Owen was indeed a rare and impressive man. He had understood about the music. She buried her face deeper and sighed.

His fingers tightened on her back and into her hair as her wistful sigh ripped at his heart. She had been so brave coming to him and demanding her music back. He would gladly have given it to her, if only he knew how. Owen tenderly cupped her jaw and tilted up her face. His gaze settled on the liquid pools gathered in her eyes. A fleeting smile teased the corners of his mouth as an idea came to him. “Are you positive my kiss took the music?”

“Positive? Not really, but it’s the only thing I could come up with.” She leaned away from the comfort of Owen’s chest and swiped the back of her hand over her eyes. “Why?”

His teasing smile turned a little more rakish. “Suppose I kiss you again. Do you think the music will return?”

She pushed against his chest with her hands. “How would I know?” Owen’s embrace tightened. “I didn’t even know that a kiss would steal it.”

“We could try again.”

Nadia glanced wildly around the room. “Try what again?”

“A kiss.” He kept his one arm around her and gently captured her chin with his other hand. “One simple kiss, Nadia, that’s all.” His thumb stroked the fullness of her lower lip. “What could it harm?”

Was he crazy? His first kiss had stolen her music; this one just might steal her soul. “I don’t know, Owen. It could be dangerous.” Huge, dark eyes stared up and begged him to understand.

“Dangerous? Maybe.” He knew exactly what another kiss could be dangerous to: his sanity. The taste of Nadia five days ago had been slowly torturing him as he lay in his lonely bed night after night. “But if a kiss could take the music, it might also bring it back.” His gaze settled on her mouth. “True?”

Nadia swallowed and ran the tip of her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. Maybe he was right. She stared at the sensual fullness of Owen’s lower lip and wondered if it indeed tasted as intoxicating as she remembered. She softly parted her mouth and breathed. “Maybe.”

Owen took her breathless word as permission and lowered his head. He didn’t tighten his embrace as he softly slanted his mouth over hers. The kiss was as light and sweet as a summer’s breeze, and just as fleeting. He raised his head and asked, “Hear anything yet?”

Nadia circled her arms around his neck and raised her mouth to his. “That wasn’t how you kissed me the other night.” She tugged his head lower until she could reach his lips. “Try it again.”

Owen didn’t need to be asked twice. His mouth slanted down on hers with all the pent-up hunger and frustration of the past days. His arms tightened like steel bans, crushing her to his chest. Need, like nothing he had ever experienced before, exploded low and hot within his body. He leaned farther back against the desk and spread his legs slightly so that she fitted snugly into the juncture of his thighs, where his desire was in full evidence.

His tongue slowly traced the voluptuous fullness of her lower lip, silently begging for entrance. When she softly sighed and parted her lips, he groaned deeply and thrust his tongue into her sweetness. The enticing riposte of her tongue charged the kiss with new life. This was not just his kiss. This was their kiss. Each was feeding off the other’s hunger and desires.

He felt the gentle trembling of her fingers as she stroked his jaw and pressed herself closer. He was drowning in desire and the heavenly scent of Nadia. She smelled of fresh mountain air, sunshine, and a myriad of different wildflowers. The fingers of one hand twisted their way through curls of near-black silk, while his other hand cupped her hip and pressed her against the rigid bulge behind his jeans. He thought he would die when her hand traveled from his jaw to his knee and slowly climbed up to the top of his thigh.

He broke the kiss, tucked her head beneath his chin, and gasped for air. “If you want to keep this to just a kiss, don’t move that hand another inch.” He squinted up at the ceiling and prayed for strength. He could detect a slight trembling in her fingers, but they didn’t climb higher.

He loosened his embrace and consoled himself that Nadia had responded to his kiss like gasoline to fire. He glanced down at the top of her head and softly asked, “Do you hear anything now?” He himself had heard fireworks, volcanoes exploding, comets whirling by, and a shifting of the earth’s plates. She should be hearing the Mormon Tabernacle Choir by now.

Nadia slowly removed her hand and backed away from Owen. Her gaze never left his chest. She could still hear the pounding of his heart, the distant song of a bird somewhere outside, and the rushing surge of her blood crashing through her head with each beat of her heart. But no music. The kiss hadn’t worked. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Nothing.”

Owen’s heart lurched in his chest. He reached out and pulled her back into his arms. He held her close and whispered, “I’m willing to try again.” He smiled when he felt her shoulders shake with silent laughter, and he knew that somehow they would get through this. “Hell, I’m willing to try all night if need be.”

He was rewarded for his great sacrifice with an elbow in his gut and Nadia’s sweet laughter. “You’re rotten.” She pushed a wayward curl out of her eye and chuckled. “And here I thought you were a gentleman.”

He raised both hands in surrender. “I am a gentleman. If you don’t believe me, just ask my aunt. She’ll tell you.”

Nadia busied herself with tucking in her red-and-white-striped top that had somehow managed to escape the waistband of her shorts. How had she allowed things to get so far out of hand? It was only supposed to be a kiss. “Your aunt is probably prejudiced.” She smoothed out a wrinkle from her shorts. “Blood and water, and all that stuff.”

Owen chuckled. “The saying is ‘Blood is thicker than water.’” He raised one eyebrow and winked. “But I was brought up to be a proper gentleman, and you would be amazed to what lengths I would go for a woman in distress.”

Nadia’s gaze shot to the front of his straining jeans. She could see the length he was willing to go to on her account. A very impressive-looking length.

Heat flared into her cheeks as she heard Owen suck in his breath. Her gaze shot up, and she flushed redder when she encountered the obvious hunger burning in his gaze. She quickly glanced away. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

Owen slowly shook his head. “It was an excellent idea.” He pushed himself away and moved to stand behind the desk. “I think we may be onto something here.”

She cocked an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips. “And I think all the blood has drained from your brain.”

His rich laughter filled the room. “I don’t think so, Nadia.” He glanced down to the front of his jeans and grinned rakishly. “I know so.”

“I thought you said you were a gentleman?”

“I wasn’t the one to bring it up.”

Nadia flushed with guilt and looked away. “I’m sorry about that.” She pushed the toe of the sneaker against the thick beige carpet and watched as the texture changed. “I didn’t mean for things to get so out of control.”

Owen bit his lip to keep from laughing again. “I was referring to bringing it up in the conversation, Nadia.” He sat down and tried to look relaxed. “What I meant was, since I was there when the music stopped, wouldn’t it seem logical that I would have to be there when the music starts back up?”

“Nothing about this is logical, Owen.” She stepped back over to the doors and frowned at the perfectly green manicured lawn. “How many women in your life ever accused you of kissing the music straight out of their heads?”

“I have to admit, Nadia, you’re the first.” He leaned back into the chair and folded his arms behind his head.

“How many musicians have you kissed?” Maybe it was some type of electrical impulse or something.

“I think you’re the first.” He squinted up at the ceiling. “No, wait. I kissed Susie Reynolds in the seventh grade, and she used to play the piano.”

“Could she still play after you kissed her?”

“Afraid so.” He propped his feet up on the edge of the desk, gazing at Nadia being drenched by sunlight pouring in through the doors. “When exactly did you notice the music was gone?”

“When I went inside the house and closed the door.”

“When did you last hear the music?”

“While standing on the porch.” She remembered the turbulent cadenza raging through her head when she’d told Owen she couldn’t see him again. Her emotions and her common sense had been competing to see which could screech the loudest.

“That just proves my point.”

“What point?” She turned back toward Owen.

“I’m the missing factor.” He lowered his feet and stood up. “Somehow I’m involved in your music vanishing.”

“But the kiss didn’t work.”

“Maybe we didn’t do it right.” He chuckled at the look of astonishment clouding her face. “What I mean is, maybe we have to kiss on the porch again. Or maybe it has to be at the same time, or maybe it has to be on a full stomach.”

“Or maybe it wasn’t the kiss at all,” said Nadia softly. She turned away before he could notice the tears filling up her eyes again. Coming here had been a mistake.

Owen came up behind her and gently touched her arm. “You may be right. Maybe it wasn’t the kiss, Nadia, but there has to be a reason somewhere.” His fingers caressed the smooth skin from her wrist to her elbow. “I’m willing to help you find it.”

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