Symphony In Rapture (14 page)

Suddenly, the woman beneath him began screaming. He opened his eyes. A mask lay beside her head, and she was staring up into his face in horror and loathing. No longer writhing in ecstasy, but trying desperately to free herself from his grasp. Nick tightened his grip on her shoulders, pounding himself into her relentlessly. Arching her back, she threw him off and scrambled to her feet, running down the wooden staircase.

Stairs? Nick looked around. The garden was gone. In its place was the interior of a large house. Nick placed his hand on a dark, polished wood banister. He gasped, staring into the face of a monster—his reflection, in the looking glass at the far end of the landing. He turned his head away. Saw something lying at the foot of the steps, in a puddle of gray linen and dark fluid. Nick ran down the stairs. “Michelle!” he screamed. When he reached the body, he hesitated, hands trembling. Finally, he rolled the figure over. “Genevieve,” he whispered, shivering with relief. If anything had happened to Michelle, he’d—

Nick woke abruptly, a sick feeling in his stomach. What were the dreams trying to tell him? Was something awful going to come of his involvement with Michelle? He traced his features in the dark, reassuring himself that nothing had changed. That the hideous countenance he’d seen in the mirror had not come back to haunt him.

* * * * *

Over the next few weeks, Nick and Michelle spent nearly all their spare time together. Nick invited Michelle to a meteor-shower party at the observatory, and they watched shooting stars reflect in one another’s gaze. Michelle took Nick to a Renaissance festival, where he purchased a beautiful hand-crafted lyre, offering the man an exorbitant sum of money. The guy reluctantly quoted his usual price, and shook Nick’s hand in ecstatic delight when Nick insisted on paying his original offer, citing the incredible workmanship. Nick took Michelle to museums, plays; even chartered a plane to fly them to Manhattan, where they ate excellent food in a very posh restaurant and danced until the early morning hours at a highly exclusive nightclub.

One lazy evening, Nick lounged on Michelle’s sofa while she played for him. He admired the way her dexterous fingers danced over the guitar strings, plucking answering resonances from his very core. When she finished, he sat up. “I still think you should consider adding some of these songs toSomething Wild ’s playlist,” he urged. “I know they’re personal, but that’s exactly why they’ll do well—because they speak to things that all people experience, but can’t find a way to express.”

Michelle made a face, reminded of their one and only argument. “I’ve been thinking about it,” she admitted.

“And?”

“I don’t know. Singing them for you is…“ she couldn’t find words to express what her music meant, whenhe was listening—or what his music was toher , when he played. “It’s different,” she finished lamely.

Michelle put her guitar back into its case. “Speaking of the band.” She fastened the case and moved over to the couch. “I was wondering if I could take you to meet the band prior to our gig Saturday night. They’re all curious about you—the band, I mean. And with my parents and Angela gone, Penny and the band are the closest thing I have to a family.”

Michelle waited, watching the shadow of mixed emotions cross Nick’s features. He did this any time she did anything or made any reference that might imply that she expected their relationship to be a lasting one. He had accused her of being afraid once—been furious with her. But now it seemed their positions had reversed. Now she could sense thathe was the one who was afraid. But of what, she had no idea. She was certain it wasn’t that he didn’twant long-term commitment. He kept insisting there was some sort of obstacle, but he wouldn’t tell her what it was.

The fact that Michelle wanted him to meet the band made Nick more than a little apprehensive. It made him wonder how much longer Michelle would be satisfied with their relationship as it was, lacking any firmer commitment other than the obvious one of spending most of his free time with her. “Taking me home to meet the folks, huh?” he finally managed to tease, keeping his voice light.

Michelle laughed, wanting to feel relieved, but sensing that he was not comfortable with the request.

“Sure,” Nick said, grinning. “I’ll come if you’ll add some of these songs to the repertoire.”

“That’s blackmail!” she protested.

“I know. Do we have a deal?”

She almost bailed him out; almost refused, so that he wouldn’t have to do something he so obviously wasn’t ready for. But she couldn’t. She was ready to step things up a notch. Michelle eyed him speculatively. “What’s in it for me—besides the honor of your gracious presence?”

Nick seemed to have shaken off his unease, and smiled. “I’ll take you over tomy house afterward, andI’ll play foryou for a change,” he promised.

Michelle grinned. “Now,that’s a deal!”

* * * * *

The next Saturday night, Michelle took Nick by the band’s studio before heading to the club, so he’d have a chance to meet the members before the performance. She hoped that introducing him to everyone might alleviate some of the tension she sensed during their rehearsals.

Sarah practically salivated all over him. Michelle struggled to keep a tight rein on the sudden jealousy that inspired. When Michelle could finally drag him away from Sarah, Ray was friendly, Josh was polite, and Duncan was quietly hostile. They didn’t exactly adopt him into their circle whole-heartedly (although Michelle had no doubt Sarah would love to have him enterher circle, anytime), but all in all, she decided it had gone pretty well. Duncan might not be resigned to the new man in her life yet, but maybe actually seeing them together would force him into some kind of acceptance.

When they arrived at the club later, Michelle gave Nick a quick kiss before heading backstage. “I’ll be looking for you,” she said.

“I’ll be watching,” he promised.

With Nick there, Michelle had her best night ever. Knowing he was in the crowd, feeling his possessive gaze, seemed to heighten every sense. She found herself playing with the audience—reading their moods, pushing for a response—using her voice to bring them pleasure, the way Nick brought her pleasure when they were together. Her feelings for him once again leant her voice a throaty growl that seemed to please the crowd.

True to her promise, Michelle had added two of her personal compositions to the band’s list. The guys had been ecstatic when she demo’d the songs for them, and had practiced daily since Tuesday so that they would be able to play them that night. When the set was nearly finished, Michelle spoke to the crowd. “The last two songs tonight are a bit of a departure from our usual sound. I hope you like them. I’d like to dedicate them both to the memory of my daughter, Angela.”

The first song contained a throbbing bass undertone and lyrical dark wit. Michelle noticed that many of the dancers actually stopped, really listening to the words. As they segued into the last song, the crowd was unusually quiet. Michelle swallowed nervously, hoping like heck that they weren’t alienating their loyal fan base. But apparently, the opposite was true. As the final note lingered in the air, the club-goers gaveSomething Wild their first-ever standing ovation.

The response was so unexpected, Michelle felt tears sliding down her cheeks. She glanced around, and Sarah’s eyes were wet, too. Duncan, Ray, and Josh high-fived each other, waving to the crowd as they ushered Sarah and Michelle offstage. As the band made their way through the mass of people, Michelle shook hands and accepted back-slaps. Some people even asked for their autographs on the club fliers advertising the band. Finally, they were able to retreat to the club’s little backstage area and catch their breath.

“Yes!” Ray punched the air with his fist, and then they were all hugging each other. Sarah and Michelle were crying—even the guys teared up, though they hid it stoically.

“This was awesome!” Duncan crowed. “Your songs are amazing, Mickey.”

Michelle shook her head. “Not just my songs, Duncan—this band. The work you guys did this week on the music for these—itmade the songs. I knew the scores needed work, and you guys really pulled them together. They were perfect!”

After another round of congratulations, they went out to mingle some more before the club closed.

(“Night Music”; a lover’s serenade)

Michelle found Nick in a secluded corner of the club, leaning casually against the wall as he eyed the crowd.

“Hi!” she said.

“Hi, yourself.” He wrapped his arms around her, a twinkle in his eyes. “So, how does it feel?”

“It feels great!” she said. “When we sang those two songs tonight, everything finally came together for us in a way that it never had before. It’s like we were singing commercial jingles all this time, and now—real music. You were right. The only worthwhile music is music from the heart.” Her tone deepened, became even more earnest. “Kind of like my life, before I met you.” Michelle swallowed. “I have to tell you this, Nick. I can’t imagine my life without you, now. I feel like I was lost in a nightmare, and you came and woke me up—brought me back to life.” Nick started to speak, and she put a finger to his lips. “You don’t have to say anything back. I won’t ask for something you’re not ready to give.” She tilted her head and captured his gaze. “But I wanted you to know how much I love you.”

Nick drank in the dark umber wells of her eyes, the chestnut locks tumbling over her shoulders, the delicate curve of her cheek. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. He wanted to say it—wanted to tell her he felt the same way—but he couldn’t. He wanted to so badly. Wanted to ask her, tonight, to spend the rest of her life with him. But it was impossible. He did not doubt that she loved him. Still, would she believe him when he told her his secret? And if she did, how could they deal with it? And, there were the dreams. Ominous. Foreboding. He sighed, his heart aching. He should end it this moment. Tell her this had all been a game—an interesting diversion, nothing more.

He raised his head and kissed her gently. Her body quivered as their lips touched.Tell her now , he thought.Tell her it’s over . But Michelle was kissing him back, her darting tongue generating a carnal urge that vibrated through him like the penetrating reverberation of a bass drum. He was weak; he couldn’t ignore the promise of this night. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice the erotic possibilities. So he drew back, whispering roughly, “Let’s go home.” He held her elbow and steered her toward the exit.

At the door to his car, Nick kissed Michelle deeply, until she clutched him for support as her knees seemed to melt. In the car, as he drove, Nick reached over and unbuttoned Michelle’s blouse. Protruding nipples strained against her silk bra, and his eyes implored her to remove it.

Michelle was trembling. In the club, Nick hadn’t been able to say that he loved her. He hadn’t said it since that night in her home, when she’d first sung Angela’s song for him. But shefelt it. She had sensed their souls entwining as they embraced, felt the tremor in his arms as he held her. He might not have said the words, but the emotion had been there, though swiftly checked. She had to find out what he was so afraid of. Why was he so reluctant to make the final commitment? Michelle couldn’t imagine a secret so devastating that she would risk throwing away a love like theirs in order to protect it.

Michelle met Nick’s beseeching eyes, and reached beneath the back of her shirt, deftly releasing the catch on her bra. She pulled off both the shirt and bra, offering Nick a full view of the generous swell of her breasts—the nipples dark pyramids limned by moonlight. Nick drove on, seeming content to just look at her, drinking in the sight, but that wasn’t enough for Michelle. She wanted to drive him wild.

Remembering the way he had responded in the garden, she drew her slender fingers along the curves of her generous mounds, drawing sinuous circles around her aureoles, watching Nick as need quickened in his eyes. “Tell me,” she breathed. “Do you like this?”

Nick nodded, rampant desire thick in his throat, obstructing his voice.

“And this?” She licked the tip of one finger, then swirled it around the bud of her nipple, bringing it even more erect, the moisture glistening with pearly moonlight.

“Yes,” Nick croaked. Impatience flooded him. Looking up, he was relieved to find that the next intersection was his street. Turning the corner, he watched, fascinated, as Michelle twisted and tweaked, strummed and plucked her nipples.

No, Nick thought fiercely.My nipples . He reached over and covered one breast with his hot hand. Michelle covered his hand with hers, kneading his fingers into her pliant flesh. Nick pulled into his driveway. Using his left hand to throw the car into park and pull the keys out of the ignition, he stroked her with his right, the callouses on his palm scratching her distended nipple. Michelle moaned.

Nick opened his car door. Maintaining his possessive contact, he motioned for Michelle to climb out his side so that he could continue his determined explorations without interruption. Michelle clambered over the gear shift, happy to retain his tantalizing touch.

“Take them off,” Nick demanded, caressing her nipple with his thumb, tickling the sensitive skin surrounding the rigid peak. Michelle didn’t ask what, just kicked off her heels and began pulling down her pants. Nick held the puddle of fabric at her feet in place with his foot as she stepped out of them. He held the nipple of her left breast between the finger and thumb of his right hand, bending to lick it as he hooked the fingers of his other hand in the waistband of her panties.

“Nick!” Michelle demurred, glancing toward the street and the neighboring houses.

He ignored her, milking her nipple with his fingers and lips as he worked the soft silk down to her knees. A midnight breeze wafted across her moistened peak, bringing with it the heady scent of roses, sending a shiver down Michelle’s spine. Nick placed his booted foot between her legs and pushed the offending garment the rest of the way to the ground. He pressed up against her. The heat of him flooded Michelle’s body—his chest, his thighs; his cock, straining against the fabric of his pants. He gave her breast a last, lingering squeeze, then turned her toward the house. Michelle moaned as he removed his erotic hold.