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“That had to be hard.”
“It was. But,” she continued with determination, “I won’t give up.”
He returned her smile with one of his own that made her feel warm and feverish. “I’ve felt the same about contracts with other companies. I feel the same way about Royal Air as you do about Emerald City.”
It wasn’t just the physical attraction snapping between them, she realized, that electrified the air. It was a shared camaraderie, an understanding of the passions that drove them to achieve their goals.
Cold tendrils of fear stabbed through the warmth. Too much opening up. Too much vulnerability, especially with a man like Damon.
“It’s getting late.” Her smile morphed into a polite expression, one that hopefully clearly conveyed the personal confession portion of their evening was over. “We made a lot of progress tonight, and I want to be here on time tomorrow to wrap up the proposal.”
“Would you like to practice before you go?”
She blinked. “Um, where?”
“Here. The office is soundproof.”
“Ah, yes. Most CEOs I work with soundproof their office for the inevitable torturing of their employees.”
It shouldn’t have mattered so much to see humor flash in his eyes, see the ghost of a grin on his lips.
“When you deal with the kind of companies and money that I do on a regular basis, ensuring discretion and privacy is tantamount to keeping clients. Unless,” he added with that same hint of potent masculinity he’d displayed when he’d all but dared her to work for him, “you don’t want me to hear you play.”
She scoffed. “You’ve already heard me play.”
“In a crowded ballroom. Your solo was enchanting but only thirty seconds amid a slew of other performances. I would have thought playing for someone new might help you prepare for your audition. But if you’re uncomfortable, I wouldn’t want to push.”
The hell you wouldn’t.
Her chin came up. He shrugged, the grin turning into a full-blown, devilishly taunting smile. He was baiting her, and she knew it. But she couldn’t let a challenge about her music pass by unheeded.
And unfortunately, he was right. Any type of practice in front of a new audience was good.
“I’ll be right back.”
Five minutes later she sat with her back to the city. As she tuned her cello, she could feel his eyes on her, hating the way her heart thudded against her ribs as a heated flush stole over her body. When she practiced with the Apprentice Symphony or performed at an audition, she was among other musicians, people who knew the craft as well and often better than she did. Her nerves in those circumstances were solely fixated on playing the right notes, achieving the right volume, harmonizing with her fellow musicians or accompanist.
But now, she felt naked, exposed to every sweep of Damon’s gaze. She hadn’t performed like this for anyone except Constanza in years. Even at her auditions, she always had an accompanist.
“You’re stalling.”
“How do you know?” she retorted.
He grinned. She shook her head, picked up her bow and began to play.
The bow sank into the strings, the vibration rippling through her body. Her eyes drifted shut as the music filled the room. Deep and somber, the notes blended together to tell a story of love and loss, of growing old and saying goodbye. She drifted into the music, her body swaying with the cello as she poured her own losses and grieving into the movements, each emotion made more potent by the glimpse of happiness she’d been given by the man sitting just a few feet away.
The music swelled into a crescendo, then drifted off into sorrow. She sat for a moment, taking in a deep breath as her body relaxed.
At last, she opened her eyes.
And nearly swallowed her tongue.
Damon watched her. Never had one gaze conveyed so much. He leaned back in his chair, the same deceptively casual stance he’d been in when she’d first glimpsed him in the ballroom. Just like that night, his eyes burned with an intensity that ensnared her, tempting her to release herself from the restrictions she’d placed on her heart.
“You play beautifully.”
Huskier than normal, his voice wound about her like a seductive spell.
