Violette's Vibrato [Golden Dolphin 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Skye Michaels

  Violette smiled at the old woman. “I thought my next piece would be something lighter.” She began the poignant strains of “Lara’s Theme” from the movie Dr. Zhivago. As she played, Violette could see the emotion on Anya’s face.

  When the piece was finished Anya said, “My parents lived through that very frightening time. Stalin was a monster. The country was firmly in the Nikita Khrushchev years when Ilya, the children, and I immigrated to the United States. We were lucky that Ilya was able to transfer a portion of our wealth before we left, so we had something to start with here. We were already in the U.S. when Khrushchev made that famous ‘we will bury you’ speech in 1956.”

  “One more piece then. I can see you are getting tired.” And Violette broke into the lively “Sailor’s Dance” by Reinhold Gliere.

  When she was finished, Anya said, “You have made an old woman very happy today. Your music is beyond brilliant.” She smiled with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Are you going to make me even happier and marry my great-grandson?”

  Violette was shocked. That was right out of left field, so to speak. She had no idea what to say. Although she knew he loved her, Nik had not asked her to marry him, and frankly, she hadn’t really thought about it. She was very happy with the way things currently were, and she didn’t want to take a chance on ruining them. Also, to be truthful, she enjoyed her independence.

  “Nana, let’s give Violette her privacy. I don’t think…” It was clear that Nik was just as shocked as she had been by Nana’s bold question.

  “Nikolai, if an old woman waited for you young people to get it right, she would be dead before she got to enjoy your wedding.”

  Violette could see that the old woman was very adept at getting her own way and not adverse to using manipulation to do it. She just smiled and said, “We’ll have to see what happens, Nana. I make no promises.” If the disagreeable old woman could put her on the spot like that, she had no compunction in calling her “Nana.”

  * * * *

  As they pulled out of the driveway, Violette collapsed back against the plush upholstery of the limo. “Pour me a glass of something…not wine. I need something stronger. Thank goodness that is over.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t that bad.”

  “Oh, really, Nikolai? I saw you lose some color when she came out with that outrageous question.”

  “Not true. Not true at all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, New York City, Saturday Night, April 19, 2014

  Nik was sitting in the second row center for Violette’s triumphant return to Lincoln Center and the New York Philharmonic Orchestra, which was made before a full house. It was a standing room only crowd. The mayor of the city of New York, as well as the governor of the state of New York, and their spouses, were sitting front row center. The audience burst into spontaneous applause as soon as Violette, carrying Colleen, stepped onto the stage.

  The entire orchestra had been delighted when Violette had been able to return to a full concert schedule. She was personally very popular with the other musicians, but in addition to her personal popularity, they had definitely noticed the decrease in attendance while she had been on medical leave. To further exacerbate the situation, Katya’s abrasive personality and paranoid tendencies had grated on everyone’s nerves. The cohesive nature of the orchestra had suffered while she was substituting for Violette.

  Violette, wearing a strapless gown of emerald green with her hair pulled up into a loose bun at the back of her head, entered from backstage. She was escorted to the front of the stage where she shook hands with the conductor and bowed to the audience. The entire hall fell silent in anticipation as she took her position, raised Colleen to her shoulder, and touched the bow to the strings.

  The sweet strains of the solo opening of Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto No. 2, Opus 63 in G Minor burst from Colleen as though from a human throat. The sound was crystal clear and moving as Violette brought Colleen to life, the music and emotion reverberating through her entire body. Nik could see that she was playing the music and not just playing the violin. The conductor skillfully melded the sound of the string section of cellos and violins, the wind instruments of flutes, clarinets, and oboes, and the brass section of French horn and trumpet as Violette and Colleen totally transfixed the audience.

  At the end of the performance, it was clear that Violette and Colleen had returned and conquered. She was presented with a bouquet of two dozen red roses as she bowed, thanked the conductor and orchestra, and left the stage to thunderous applause. It was clear that the City of New York was glad to have its diva back.

  Nik could see that she was exhausted, both physically and mentally. He left his seat as the applause continued to roll on and on culminating in a standing ovation. He wanted to be backstage in order to escort her to her dressing room. He waited patiently while Violette made the obligatory after-performance appearance to greet the important dignitaries in the audience who had come backstage to congratulate and welcome her back.

  After she had greeted the governor and mayor as well as the several other important personages from the audience, Violette and Nik were approached by Frank Gallagher, the district attorney, and his wife. He effusively praised her performance. When Nik just looked at him with no trace of warmth on his face, he had the grace to blush. As far as Nik knew, “Frank to his Friends” Gallagher had done nothing to help when he was anxiously trying to find a solution to the Kosakova-Sokolov problem. The saying was “you could pick your friends but not your family.” Well, Nik’s family had come through when it counted, and although he didn’t want to be intimately involved with them and their business enterprises, he had the grace to know when gratitude was in order. Nik was determined not to pick this man for a friend again, and it would be a cold day in hell before he got another political contribution from Rossiter Construction. In fact, if his next opponent was breathing, mildly intelligent, and not a monkey in a three-piece suit, he would probably be contributing heavily to his campaign. It didn’t pay to piss off a Rossiter. It wasn’t as though he had asked for anything illegal or unethical, or for that matter, for himself. Nik knew that Violette was aware of the situation and that he was supremely annoyed that Gallagher had had the nerve to come backstage in order to rub elbows with the mayor and governor. He had to appreciate her political savvy when Violette just smiled graciously and accepted his congratulations, as insincere as they appeared to be. She was a pro after all, and this was not her first rodeo.

  Epilogue

  Fifth Avenue and Central Park, New York City, late Saturday evening, April 19, 2014

  When the crowd had cleared out, Nik took Violette’s hand. “Let’s go, babe. We have one stop to make, and then we’ll go home. You were incredible tonight. Welcome back.”

  “Oh, Nik. I am exhausted and my wrist is a little achy from the strain. Can’t we just go back to your place?”

  “We won’t be long. Daniels has the car at the stage entrance.”

  Nik helped Violette into the back seat of the limousine while Daniels stowed Colleen and the two dozen red roses safely in the trunk. He then skillfully navigated the after-theatre traffic until he pulled to the curb at the Fifth Avenue entrance to Central Park and got out to open the door for Nik and Violette. Violette looked confused, but she was just tired enough to go along without an argument for a change, thank goodness.

  Nik guided her over to a flower-bedecked carriage drawn by an enormous white horse that he had arranged to have waiting for them. He helped her up into the back seat of the carriage. It was still a little cool for a late night carriage ride around the park, but Nik was done waiting. This was it. It was now or never, and he was nervous. “What is this, Nik?”

  “Wait and see.” As soon as they were settled, the carriage drove off into the park with the horse moving at a brisk trot. Nik knew Violette was emotionally drained from her performance and a little bemused at the moment, and he took advantage of her sli
ghtly befuddled state of mind. He took her hand in his and then pulled her into his arms for a deep kiss. When he released her mouth, he said, “You were absolutely incredible tonight. I was so proud of you.”

  “Thank you, Nikki. A lot of the credit for tonight belongs to you. If you hadn’t been able to solve our little Kosakova and Sokolov problem, I don’t know that I would even have been here tonight or able to play at all if they had had their way. I know I give you fits sometimes, but please don’t think that I don’t appreciate all you do for me.”

  “Baby, I’d like to do a lot more for you if only you would let me.” He looked deeply into her eyes while he held her hand in his. “Violette, will you marry me? I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you since before we left on the cruise. The right time just never presented itself, what with all the other problems that kept popping up. I was afraid you would get your stubborn Irish up and wouldn’t say yes just on general principles. Sometimes that stubborn streak of yours can be daunting.”

  “Does this have anything to do with what Nana said when we were at Odessa? I would hate to think you had been pressured into this.”

  “Of course not. Even Nana wouldn’t try to force me to marry someone against my will. I’m a pretty damn stubborn Irishman with a touch of Russian Cossack thrown in for good measure. I told you—I have been planning this for months. I bought this months ago,” he said as he reached into his pocket and brought out a small, red velvet box.

  He laughed as her eyes widened to saucers when he opened the box and she saw the four-carat, round, brilliant diamond surrounded by a halo setting of pink diamonds for the first time. He took the ring out of the box and put it on the third finger of her left hand. “What do you say? Are you going to be a PIB, or are you going to make me a very happy man?”

  “Are those two choices mutually exclusive, or can I be a little of each? I’ll probably still be a PIB, but I also want to make you a very happy man.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  When he could breathe again, he said, “What more can I ask than that? I love you outrageously, Violette O’Reilly. What do you think about St. Patrick’s Cathedral in June with a reception at the Plaza? I’m not going to be patient and put up with a long engagement.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her silly. When they came up for air, the carriage had stopped in front of the Tavern on the Green. “How about a late supper to celebrate our engagement?”

  “That would be wonderful.” Nik helped her out of the carriage, told the driver to take his horse back to the stables, and gave Daniels, who had the limo waiting at the curb, the thumbs-up signal. Nik could see the wide smile break across his face as he realized that Nik had popped the question and gotten an affirmative answer.

  They walked into the restaurant under the glare of the photographers’ lights. Somehow, the paparazzi had gotten wind of their engagement and were there to document the moment for the morning papers.

  Nik hurried Violette through the gauntlet to the door where the news hounds were promptly closed out. They were settled at a quiet, private table where a chilled bottle of champagne awaited them.

  Nik poured two flutes, handed her one, and said, “To us, baby. To many happy years, to many arguments and making up afterward, to making beautiful music and many beautiful little babies. What do you say?”

  She lifted her glass in return. “To us, to love, to family. Nana will be thrilled! Does she always get her way?”

  Nik laughed. “Always.”

  THE END

  WWW.FACEBOOK.COM/SKYEMICHAELSBOOKS

  E-MAIL: SKYEMICHAELSBOOKS@YAHOO.COM

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  I was born in New Jersey and grew up an only child on a small farm in the “Garden State.” My father grew acres and acres of flowers for commercial florists and various produce, such as tomatoes. My high school years were spent at Wayne Hills High School, where I was not one of the popular, preppy kids, or one of the hoods—which kind of left me in limbo as I wasn’t one of the brainiacs either. Weekends were spent going into “the City” and Greenwich Village with my friends and doing a lot of things I probably shouldn’t have—don’t tell my grandkids!

  After attending Katharine Gibbs School in Montclair, New Jersey, I began a career as a legal secretary and then a paralegal. I moved to Florida and currently live in Davie, Florida, with my dog, Snickerdoodles, aka The Dude. I was married for eight years but have been single for many years. My major addiction is jewelry, but any kind of shopping will do for a fix!

  After my longtime job as a paralegal was ended by the economic downturn, I decided to turn lemons into lemonade and finally write the stories I’d had in my head for many years. I had always wanted to write romance novels, but my family and job kept me too busy.

  My major interest aside from my family and friends is horses. I enjoy putting an animal character into my stories if possible. I am extremely “low-tech” and probably should have been born in the 1800s as I enjoy driving a horse and buggy for fun. I also enjoy horseback riding, but the ground has gotten harder and further away over the years.

  I have a small farm and vacation home in Ocala, Florida, which is my favorite place in the world. There’s nothing as wonderful as swinging in the hammock in the shade and listening to the music of the wind in the pines while cuddled under a quilt reading a good book.

  Books have always been my escape into love and adventure, and through reading, I have been able to be many people, do many things, and go to many wonderful places I wouldn’t have otherwise been able to be, do, or see.

  I hope that all hardworking women who have a moment to put up their tired feet and relax with a cup of coffee (or a glass of wine) enjoy getting to meet my fantasy friends and to experience something new and different with a touch of hot romance thrown in for good measure!

  For all titles by Skye Michaels, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/skye-michaels

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com