The Crescendo (The Musical Interlude) (10 page)

“Is that right, little bird?”

“Uh-huh. In fact, the doctor has prescribed having mad passionate sex as a remedy.”

“Did he now?” His gaze darkens and his breathing increases as he glances at me, his half-lidded eyes rolling over my body covered by our silk sheets. “Hmm… I think we should start this treatment by removing these.” Snatching my covers away, Alek grins wide when he takes in the sight of my naked body. I’ve never liked pajamas and I only wore sleeping shirts back when Selene and I were roommates at F.I.T.

“The Maestro’s spoils of war delivered in the
flesh,” I say, feeling like a sex goddess because of the way Alek is staring at me right now. “How would you enjoy your prize, master?”

He licks his bottom lip and turns a narrow-eyed gaze to me. “Master?”

I nod, break his gaze and reach over to the drawer beside the bed, pulling out part one of my Alek and Erin get back on track plan—a leather collar.
Oh, what the hell? Might as well go all the way now.
I’m already pumped up with adrenaline caused by that dream. Selene’s right. Alek and I need a diversion.

“What are you doing, Erin?” he asks, eyeing the collar. I can feel the sexiness of the last few minutes slipping away. The collar has created the opposite effect of what I’ve intended. “This isn’t necessary.”

Sighing, I let my arm drop. The collar clicks against the side of the bed. “I’m so frustrated.”

“About what? This?” He leans over, takes the collar, and dangles it between us. “We don’t need things like this to reconnect.”

“What do we need then? Because I’m super confused about the best way to ease your mind.”

“For starters, I want you to stay true to yourself.”

“I am being true to me. Wait, that’s not true. I honestly haven’t seen the old Erin in months.”

“We can work through our issues without resorting to this. This isn’t us,” he says, holding the collar up between us and shaking it again.

“Since you’re never around anymore then maybe you can tell me what us is. Because I’m scared, Alek. I feel you slipping away, like Nikolai.”

That statement breaks the tension swirling around us. “Oh, baby. You’re my Jaybird, and I’m still your Maestro.”

“Are you sure?” I whisper.

At once, Alek shoots to his feet, bends over me and lifts my body up out of the bed.

“What in the world are you doing?” I’m completely intrigued by this sudden shift in his argument.

“I’m going to show you who we are. That we don’t need toys and vices to do our thing.” He carries me to the bathroom and sets me down on the floor, setting off all kinds of things inside me as I watch him strip until we’re both standing naked inside the bathroom.

The bathrooms inside this hotel remind me of a sauna. Besides the walls being covered in expensive marble tile that shines like a mirror, the size of the place rivals my living room and kitchen combined back at the apartment I used to rent before moving in with Alek. I can only imagine what the Maestro has in mind for us, yet I can definitely think of a million things I’d love to do with that perfect body of his.

He starts the shower, taking extra care to adjust the temperature, and turns to me. “Come,” he beckons, holding his hand out. I take it and step into the shower with the man I love. The prickly
sensations of the water as it flows from the showerheads tickles my skin. Alek positions me so I’m under the largest one, reminding me of the day we washed away the memories of our old selves under a waterfall. Now I understand why he’s brought me in here.

“Do you remember now?” he asks.

“Almost. I could use a nudge,” I answer, glancing into the dark-eyed gaze of my lover.

We waste no time with foreplay. Instead, Alek devours my lips, abandoning all sense of gentleness the way he has been. He moves to my nipples next, squeezing and nibbling and sucking—a combination designed to make me go insane while driving the point of what we’re doing into my head. Dropping to one knee, he spreads my legs apart and dips his head between them, the sensation of his tongue combined with the flow of water rolling over my now sensitive nipples rips through my body, killing the seeds of doubt that have been spreading like a disease inside me.

“Oh, Alek. I’m going to come. Please don’t stop,” I say, grasping a handful of his slick hair and pushing his head as close to me as he could possibly get. Shudders roll through me next, and I can’t ever shake the notion that each time this man works his magic on my body he creates an even stronger experience than the previous one. Our sex just keeps getting better each time.

Moving back to a standing position, he kisses me and then hoists me up so he can push his iron
hard cock into me. “Now do you remember us? Do you know who we are?” he gasps in my ear.

“Yes!” I scream. I am the woman who will die if anything happens to the man I love more than life itself.

Erin

“You haven’t told your fiancé about us, or our history together. Why?” Sam asks. I can feel his gaze boring into my profile while I work hard to ignore him.

Back in Milan, we’re sitting inside a studio that produces one of the city’s top lifestyle shows. Sam has done an excellent job of keeping the details of what happened to me back in Venice two weeks ago out of the news. The story we released claimed that I’d taken ill, and today makes my first appearance since I supposedly got sick.

Feeling thankful for the makeup artist who just entered the room, I ignore Sam’s question until she’s done. In fact, I think I’ll probably ignore Sam altogether, or at least until after we’re done with the publicity interview that we're being prepped to give.

“You’re ignoring me. How rude,” Sam says in his deep British accent. He shifts in his seat and then crosses his legs.

I hold my tongue as the makeup artist excuses herself, leaving to go find something she said she’s misplaced. I turn to Sam when she is gone. “There’s nothing to say because there’s no us, Sam. There never was. Anyway, how do you know I haven’t already told Alek?”

He scoffs a laugh, smiling. “How could you possibly have done so if there wasn’t ever an ‘us’ to discuss?”
Damn, he’s slick
. I sigh and cross my arms. “I should think a man like Aleksandr would’ve made it known by now, in some form or other. He’s not the type to sit back and watch the object of his conquest get poached on by another. Especially when the prize proves to be as becoming as yourself.”

I think of a distraction and recall seeing the holster he wears all the time, the gun that’s now hidden by his jacket, something he’s yet to explain. “How ‘bout we discuss that gun of yours since we’ve developed the habit of talking about things that make us uncomfortable.”

“I’m all for discussing guns with you, Erin.”

“Oh, my God.” I glance up at the ceiling and restrain an urge to laugh. “Not that kind of gun. You know what I mean.”

“Impressive attempt at a distraction.”

“Good. How about giving me the answer? Or you could tell me why you insisted on going with me to the pet shop that day,” I suggest, smiling because now he’s the one who’s squirming under my gaze.

“Instinct. It seemed a tad odd to me that a man like Aleksandr would send his fiancée a note. Particularly when the subject is something as fascinating as you claimed it was.”

I narrow my eyes. There’s more to Sam than he’s letting on. “You’re an expert in reading people
now, I see.”

“I have to be.”

“Why is that?” I persist.

His gaze moves toward the area behind me, his smile fading, and for the first time since he stormed back into my life, I sense the slightest bit of impatience with me.

“Another time,” he says to me as our makeup artist steps back up on the stage and pulls out her bag while apologizing for making us wait so long in between the preparatory sessions. “Perhaps I would be more eager to comply with your line of questioning if you were to do the same.”

Holy moly, this guy is persistent.

The girl touching up my hair and makeup keeps ogling Sam. I hold back an urge to ask her if she’d like for me to set her up with him just so he can stop showering me with questions about my relationship with Alek. Talking about myself has never been something I’ve been able to do and especially not with someone I once thought was able to walk on water.

When the girl moves on to Sam, I hold his gaze and say, “Let me end this for good. I repeat, Alek knows what happened to me back in Lafayette.”

“Everything about us as well? Did you tell him I was your first love? Your
best
love?” he asks, studying my face.

What an arrogant…

Time to knock someone’s ego down a bit.

“You might’ve been my first lay, but you were
hardly my best, sweetie. Alek and I don’t keep secrets from each other.” Well, that’s not entirely true, but Sam doesn’t need to know every detail about my love life. So what if he doesn’t believe me? I hate it when he stares at me that way.

He narrows his eyes and glances behind me again. Since the makeup girl’s standing beside him, fixing his suit, I turn around to see what behind me has caused such a smug grin to begin creeping across his lips. It’s Nature Boy Tanner.
Oh, shit!

“Just wanted to make sure everything’s all good here, Ms. Angelo,” Tanner says in his deep voice, his gaze locked on mine as though Sam isn’t sitting next to me.
Crap! I know he has to have heard what I just said.

“I—I’m fine. Thank you, Tanner,” I say, feeling winded.

He passes a quick glance at Sam, narrowing his eyes the slightest bit, so now I’m absolutely certain he has heard the last bit of our conversation.

“All right, Signora Golina is on her way. Sir, I have to ask you to leave now,” the makeup girl says to Tanner first and then smiles at the other conniving man sitting beside me.

I pass a quick glance toward Tanner one more time. Our gazes lock and my chest fills with anxiety. What will he do about what he just heard? Run to Alek? Or even worse, maybe he’ll give Katerina the dibs? I suspect she was waiting for this slipup, a confirmation of her suspicions. Tanner nods at me, turns and then walks away, disappearing in the shadows behind the stage just like his namesake, the hawk, would do.

I snap my head back to Sam. “You knew he was behind me.”

“Erin, love, your low opinion of me hurts.” He places a hand over his heart and makes a sad face.

“You deserve it,” I say, meaning every word. The lights above our heads spring to life and several cameramen rush through the doorways leading up to the stage. I inhale deeply and prepare for my interview, although I know it’s going to be hard to concentrate now.

The journalist that’s going to be interviewing us today is a woman dressed in a tailored black skirt paired with a white blouse complete with snow-sled pads on the shoulders—that’s what we used to call the shoulder pads that have mysteriously started to make a comeback in the designs of some of our rival design houses. Her ruby red lips; wavy, dark hair; and big, expressive, brown eyes make me think of an Italian actress named Monica Bellucci. Her name, though, is Ciara Golino—a top lifestyle reporter who’s known for her ruthless and raw coverage of all the celebrities living in Milan.

I can’t even begin to understand why Katerina would ask us to be interviewed by this woman. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think she was back to her old ways.

“Ready?” Ciara asks her cameraman. A huge light comes on, its beam making me flinch at first. She goes through her standard opening dialogue and then turns the questioning to us. Since Sam and I make the newest members of Diabolique’s musical entourage, our interview creates a goldmine of information for someone like Ciara Golino.

Of course, Sam gets the first bit of attention. “Tell us, Signor Swansea, what goddess of luck actually brought you into this group?”

“I’m not sure if I could attribute a goddess to my appointment more than I could raw ambition, but I’m glad Katerina Dostovsky chose me to be in charge of such exceptional talent,” Sam answers, glancing at me. The reporter’s eagle eye doesn’t miss even that small gesture.

“Tell me how you feel about your booking agent, Signorina Angelo?” she asks. The witch.

“I’m glad to have someone who’s good at organizing things.” I shrug, forcing my lips up into a smile.

“Oh, I can only imagine a fine Englishman such as yourself would be exceptionally gifted at organizing any lady’s belongings,” she says to Sam, glazing over my answer. The compliment together with her soft, Italian accent almost makes me want to ask her out. Maybe she’ll be the one to steer him away from hounding me with questions about my love life.

Sam clears his throat. “Erin is spoken for, in case you haven’t heard.”

She straightens up and her face hardens a bit. Sam didn’t offer up the dirt, which kind of surprises me considering he just tricked me into confessing we had a relationship in front of Tanner. “It doesn’t bother either of you to be performing for a company where the owners belong to a family with a history based in arms dealings and illegal trade practices?” Now she’s getting me heated.