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He’d risked his life to save mine. Twice. Twice!
Now he wouldn’t talk to me.
I twisted my hand around the bottle, enjoying the crunching sound, wanting nothing more than to toss it into his face. Maybe that would get a reaction.
Good idea.
So I did.
Shocked I actually went through with it, I slapped my hand across my mouth, laughing until he turned his face in my direction.
But he remained silent, merely studying me with narrowed eyes and a heaving chest. There was the same amazing electricity crackling through us, but his eyes were cold.
While he wiped his face, brushing the remnants on his trousers, he didn’t react. No yanking me over his lap. No pulling me into his arms. I didn’t know what to think.
I took a deep breath, forced to realize whatever was going on, he had no intention of telling me. As I concentrated on looking out the window, I realized he was headed down the road leading to the Gershwin Theater. Was he trying to torture me with memories? My stomach was in knots, my mind one huge blur similar to the way it was the first night I met him.
Now I hated the memories.
But they continued, one coming after the other.
When the driver started to slow the engine, prickly sensations coursed through my body. Then the SUV was pulled to a stop directly in front. “What are you doing? It’s dark.”
“Dark?”
“The theater is dark. The show is closed, and another isn’t opening for two months.”
“Ah.” He climbed out, closing the door.
What in God’s name did he have up his sleeve?
Frowning, I folded my arms as he opened the door, sticking his arm inside. I refused to take it.
He leaned down, giving me a look that indicated I better obey him. I looked away.
Then he crouched down. “Candy. You have a dream that’s amazing. I want that for you so much. I’m sorry for the partial charade but I know you well enough that if I’d told you about the surprise, you would have fought me the entire time.”
“What are you talking about?”
He smiled, brushing the back of his hand across my cheek. The tingling sensations were just like before, desire swelling deep within.
“Trust me. For once, can you do that?” He lifted his hand again, giving me a nod.
“I do trust you, more than you know.” And I love you. I love you. I. Love. You. Why was it so hard to say?
I took his hand, allowing him to lead me onto the sidewalk. Then he wrapped his arm around me, leading me toward one of the side doors, issuing two hard knocks.
“Please tell me what this is,” I begged.
“This is your audition. Your private audition.”
What? What had he just said?
“Are you fucking out of your mind? That’s not possible. I don’t know the music. I mean, I do, but not well enough. I haven’t practiced in a lifetime. At least a week and a half. And what’s with this dress? That’s like the clothing the… lead would wear and I’m not auditioning for the lead so…” At first, I was blabbering away, nervous as could be. Then my words trailed off.
“You are auditioning for the lead. I happen to know the producer very well and told him about your magical voice. He made time in his schedule for a private audition.”
“You mean you threatened him.”
