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“Wonderful. Too wonderful. Thank God I don’t live over here. I’d be in trouble.”
His expression is still warm. I’ve pleased him. He likes that I like the cookies, and this pleases me. He snags one for himself and takes a big bite, icing smudging his face now. It’s my turn to hand him a napkin. “Thank you,” he says.
“Ah. You have manners, too.”
“Hmm. I guess I do.” He winks.
My stomach flutters and I’m afraid I’m too transparent in my reactions to this man. I test my coffee and it’s perfect. “Even the white mocha is wonderful.”
“Everything here is.” He finishes off a cookie. “I gather from our first encounter that you’re new to Riptide. Is your business new to the city?”
“We’ve been around for five years,” I say, offering an answer as truthful as possible, “but auction houses take a commission I prefer to avoid. I’m coming around, though. I’m starting to feel like I can make this work.” I use this door he’s opened to slide right into the topic I’d missed talking about with him last night. “Do you happen to know a Sofia, Kace?”
His brow furrows. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Why?”
“My brother and I work together and she’s the one who tipped him off about the auction at Riptide, but he’s traveling and not communicating well. I was hoping to pick her brain about the instrument.”
“She doesn’t sound familiar, and as for the instrument, Mark won’t even let me look at the damn thing. Not even after I agreed to do a show with Chris Merit at the VIP event itself. Bastard.”
I laugh. “He does seem like a hard-ass but aside from that obvious statement, I heard about your performance from Crystal today. I’m excited to be there.”
He arches a brow. “So you won over the hard-ass, did you?”
“More like I won over Crystal. Maybe. I’m not sure. I might have won over Mark before Crystal. Either way, I like Crystal quite a lot. Thank you for the tip.”
He inclines his chin ever so slightly, studying me intensely again and I can’t read his thoughts. I want to read his thoughts. “Should I guess what you’re thinking now?” It’s out before I can stop it. Oh God, what was I thinking?
He leans closer. “Are you ready for that?”
Heat rushes up my neck. “I’d better leave it to my imagination.”
“Not mine?”
“No,” I say quickly. “Not yours.”
“All right then,” he agrees, sitting back, his mood turning from sultry to conversational. “You only have one sibling?”
“Yes. One. You?”
“It’s just me.”
Just him.
I cut my gaze, with the bite of fear I cannot escape. It cannot be just me now. It can’t be. Gio has to come home.
“Hey,” he says, softly compelling my attention.
My lashes lift and I look at him, swimming in the deep blue sea of his eyes.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asks. The question surprising me, telling me he sees me, really sees me, when I have spent a lifetime trying to be invisible to everyone but Gio. This awareness between us is both thrilling and terrifying. Gio is gone, but Kace is here. And Kace has a unique connection to a world I’ve lost, and that I crave now more than ever. He brings me home, back to my roots. He makes me feel a little less alone. So maybe I should run far away, run from him, but for once in my life, I defy all I’ve been taught, and I don’t. I stay put, right here with Kace.
CHAPTER TEN
“Aria?”
At Kace’s gentle prod, I’m snapped out of my reverie.
“Did I say something wrong?” he presses.
“No. Of course not. You said nothing wrong.” And he didn’t. He said nothing wrong. Gio’s absence is what’s wrong but I can’t talk about that and I don’t. I change the subject quickly. “For some reason,” I say, “I thought you lived in Germany.” It’s out before I can stop it, and without that intent, I’ve just made myself look like a fangirl. “I was reading up on the recent Stradivarius auctions and went down a rabbit hole, which included the great violinists of our time.” The explanation I’ve given him is not a lie. I’ve secretly stayed on top of every auction ever held for a Stradivarius and sampled every one of the great violinists. The truth is that Kace’s playing has lulled me to sleep more than just last night.
If he notices my misspeak, he doesn’t show it. In fact, he leans in a little closer, the masculine scent of him far more delicious than the cookies—and the cookies smell pretty darn amazing. “I have a home here and in Germany. Germany is central to my European tours and while I love Germany, New York is my preferred home. That’s what I was arguing with my agent about when you walked up on me at the auction,” he continues. “He wants me to go on a European tour again at the first of the year.”
