The Diva Diaries

by Karen Anders

  She brought the gleaming violin to her chin once more. She drew the bow across the strings and a soft melodic note floated from the stage to captivate her audience. She held the note, let it waver and then drop softly into silence. When a flash of lightning filled the theater, followed by the soft grate of thunder, she repeated the deep melodic sound, holding it, and then moving her fingers in a sharp curve down to a deeper booming brassy note. Her fingers flew over the strings as Sam closed his eyes and let the music seduce him.

  She played sharper notes in a staccato beat, the deep hollow sound giving him goose bumps. The music seemed to be heavy with moisture. The melody hinted of the rain-soaked grasslands, whispered of wind and mist and glistening shadow that hung over the Rio Grande. It murmured with pattering drops of rain that the audience strained to hear, like an elusive noise just out of earshot yet tantalizingly close.

  The music affected him at an elemental level and touched him profoundly in a soul-wrenching way, beckoning and irresistible. Her eyes sought out Sam’s in the semidarkness and as she met his sultry blue eyes, desire, quick and hot, infused him, charged him until his nerve endings were on fire with the need and the scintillating power. The very air was electric.

  Sam felt the notes cut through him all the way to something inner and secret. He didn’t know why, but they aroused him, stirred his blood. Then he realized his whole body was on fire. He was riveted to his seat and watched for her face as each lightning bolt struck. He couldn’t have looked away if he’d wanted to. In that moment, when their eyes met, he knew he had to have her or go crazy with the wild savageness that was consuming him.

  Gooseflesh rippled across his skin as if a breeze had suddenly blown through the auditorium. He wanted to leave his seat and touch her. Pull her against him, kiss her mouth, thrust into her with hard, demanding strokes, and make her completely his. It was as if he were caught in the silken web of an overpowering compulsion, as if she were the Pied Piper and he the beguiled mouse caught under her spell.

  He breathed deeply to relieve some of the tension in his body. He realized he was sweating. Women didn’t usually catch him off guard, but this compelling woman, with her bold eyes, had done just that. It felt as if the ground had been pulled away from him and had sent him spinning out of control.

  Winsome, charming, bewitching…all those words fit, but no language except the language of the gods could describe the sense of energy and vital essence, the force of spirit within Jenna’s delicate features. Her face demanded attention and held it with a magnetic presence. But Sam knew, even if she’d been hidden in a crowd, he would have noticed her with her fine eyes and soft, upswept hair.

  Lightning crackled, thunder rumbled, and with each illumination of her face and graceful body, he wanted her more and more until his blood was throbbing with it, beating in time to the delicate, haunting notes drawn from the instrument in her hands.

  Sam felt power running though his bones, flesh, fingertips and shaft. She played the final note and waited for the last flash of lightning. The hushed admiration of the audience barely registered with Sam as another flash came. He left his seat and made his way backstage. Compelled by an unseen force that enticed him, drew him with uncontrollable desire. As she stepped into the wing, she collided with his solid form.

  He curled steel-fingered hands around her upper arms, steadying her. He so startled her that she almost dropped her instrument.

  “Jenna, I…” His voice came out husky and breathless.

  Sam had never been so aware of a woman as he was of Jenna Sinclair. His body was tense and throbbing. Her sweet scent teased his senses. Even in the dimness he could discern the voluptuous curves of her body, thinking how perfectly she would fit to him.

  “Sam…Sam, I need to change. I don’t want to be late for the reception.” She peered up at him with wide brown eyes, almost making him reel at her closeness. Moments passed by. He took a deep breath to hang on to his resolve and to savor her delicious fragrance.

  “Right. I came to drive you over to the hotel.”

  “Thanks.”

  He let go of her and followed her as she made her way to her dressing room. “Would you like me to wait outside for you?”

  “No, I need help with the zipper.”

  He followed her inside and Jenna presented her back to him. He pulled down the zipper, his hands tingling at the feel of her silky back. She moved away from him, disappearing behind an ornate screen.

  He could hear the rustle of her clothing as she took off the dress, and he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

  When she turned on a light behind the screen, he caught sight of her provocative silhouette and froze. Feeling as if something had thudded into his chest, he fixed his gaze on her, his pulse suddenly heavy. The white light and her dark outline made him think of white sheets and black velvet nights.

  His breath jammed in his chest. He watched as she raised her hands over her head and something slinky cascaded down her graceful body, over peaked breasts to the tops of her shapely thighs. Enthralled, enticed, he moved toward the screen. Pressing his fingertip against the screen, he traced the curve of her breasts, the flare of her hips.

  He closed his eyes against the surge of desire inside him, and tried to regain control. She was a city slicker. She lived the same kind of life his ex-wife had left and then regretted once she found herself on an isolated ranch. But Jenna would be gone in a short period of time. He could let his desire reign free. There was danger in letting himself do so, in letting himself get close to her. Traveling, touring, fame were distinct parts of her life, a life she wouldn’t give up. Wasn’t that what he really wanted—no attachments? Now it made her especially appealing to him.

  His hand was still on the screen when she emerged. She stared up at him with a startled look in her soft eyes. She looked at the screen, the light and the distinct outline of the clothing she’d discarded. Her eyes came back to his, sparks igniting in the sultry depths, and she made a helpless sound in her throat. The thought of her hot, silky skin and the sizzling look depleted his resolve. He swiftly captured her against him. The shimmering desire he’d been struggling with raged beyond his power to control, and reason faded.

  She gasped as his rough mouth found hers. Softer than the finest velvet, her lips tasted rain-soaked and fresh, as if she had just stepped out of a cleansing downpour.

  Jenna couldn’t breathe. She had expected to see taunting, maybe invitation, in his eyes when she realized that he had been able to see her naked body as she’d changed. But what she saw was darker, harder. What she saw in those shimmering blue eyes was the same throb of desire she felt in her own chest. The struggle to keep distance, to prevent mistakes. The same kind of barriers, which were as formidable as hers.

  Her hands moved up to his shoulders and into the silky hair on his collar, threading the strands through her fingers.

  He cupped her cheek, his fingers sliding into her hair, holding her head steady while he explored the moistness of her mouth. “Sugar pie,” he whispered gruffly, “you taste sweet, so sweet.” In another devastating assault, he invaded her mouth. His touch had her tumbling into the sensation, plunging into the incredible pleasure.

  She sucked in her breath when his hands traveled down her body and cupped her buttocks. Sliding his hand along one firm cheek, around to the back of her thigh, he leaned back, bringing her with him. His hand stopped at the underside of her knee as he cupped the delicate joint and lifted her leg.

  “Yes…” Her voice caught as she felt the material of his pants against her inner thigh.

  His breathing was ragged as he brought the softness of her mound against the hardness bulging in his trousers. She moaned softly against his mouth.

  An abrupt knock on the door caused Jenna’s eyes to fly open and her desire-drugged brain to realize where she was and what she was doing. She pushed on his chest, wondering how she could have lost her resolve like this.

  Sam released her and backed up. “Just a
moment,” she called. “I’ll be right there.” She took a quick look in the mirror, hastily fixed her lipstick and tried to brush past him to open the door. Sam caught her around the waist and his hot, wet mouth slid across the back of her neck, the warmth of his kiss filling her with a heavy weakness.

  She leaned back. “Sam, I have to open the door. Please.”

  “I know,” he said in a whiskey-soft voice, and then he let her go.

  As Jenna pulled open the door to greet the excited college students beyond, she realized that the fire her grandmother wrote about had never touched her.

  Until now.

  Now when she so desperately needed to focus on the task at hand.

  She wasn’t here for passion. Or was she? The fire beckoned with a sultry, dizzying dance full of promise. A promise that could draw her to that mesmerizing flame until she was engulfed.

  What she wanted to know was, would she be able to escape once consumed?

  4

  THEY RODE IN SILENCE, but Jenna couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind. She didn’t dare look at him. Even in the darkness of his truck, she would be able to see his mouth. Unable to help herself, she turned, and the sight of his lips sent shivers of excitement over her skin.

  His words drew her head around. “I was out of line. Way out of line.”

  He hadn’t looked at her as he said it. Jenna knew it wasn’t entirely his doing and in that knowledge she could be graceful. “It was spontaneous. Let’s face it. When we get close to each other, there are some sparks.”

  He heaved a sigh. “And howdy.”

  “And if you greet every guest who visits Texas in that manner, I’m coming back.”

  He chuckled and turned to smile at her. Which, of course, didn’t help one iota. It drew attention to his mouth, warm and soft, then hard and demanding. How would his mouth feel against her flesh, her breasts and between her legs? She squirmed in her seat, wishing they were already at the reception. He’d had to help her into the truck again. This time, she’d only shown a little leg when she’d placed her foot on the high running board, but Sam, ever the gentleman, had been there to boost her up and into the cab. She wished she’d worn a tight skirt so that he’d have to lift her up and hold her against him again.

  When they reached the ritzy hotel where the reception was being held she quickly got out of the truck. Afraid if he put his hands on her she’d go up in flames.

  He eyed her and held out his arm for her to link with his. But touching him would be a mistake, so she pretended she didn’t see it and walked on ahead of him. When she entered the huge, bustling lobby, he was two steps behind her. Jenna didn’t slow, not even to admire the elegance of the rich woodwork, or the mirrored columns and chandeliers. He’d offered his arm again.

  There was a large easel in the lobby that held a poster of Jenna and, below it, the particulars of the location for the reception. She continued and had almost made it to the thick navy-blue carpet leading to the reception’s ballroom, when she felt his warm hand on her arm.

  “Whoa, darlin’. Where’s the fire?”

  Excitement exploded inside her as every nerve ending in her body screamed out in sensual agony. She gritted her teeth and took a quick breath and turned. “I didn’t want to keep the guests waiting.” She forced a smile, hoping that it didn’t look forced.

  He gestured to the painting in front of her. “I wanted to show you the portrait of my great-grandmother. As I mentioned, the town is named for her.”

  Jenna turned her attention to the portrait, glad to take her eyes off Sam. His great-grandmother, Savannah, was even more striking close up and Jenna could see some of the same facial characteristics in Sam. The same strong jawline, deep blue eyes and firm, sensuous lips. She almost groaned out loud.

  His expression stilled and grew serious. “She was quite a lady. She helped my great-grandfather carve a life out of the wilderness, brought medicine to Savannah and founded the newspaper. She generally took care of the people in these parts up until she died.”

  He was proud of his heritage and he should be. His grandparents had built quite a nice little town. “And you’re following along right in her footsteps by modernizing the hospital.”

  “Not a bad role model. I wished I’d gotten a chance to know her when she was young.” He laughed. “Quite impossible, since I wasn’t born yet.”

  Without warning, tears flooded her eyes and she turned away to hide them, but it was too late.

  “I’m sorry. I reminded you of your grandmother.”

  “It’s all right. It’s still just so fresh. There are times when it hits me, when I remember she’s really gone.”

  “I used to think of all these things, you know, in the course of the day, things I would normally save up to tell my dad. I’d think of something and go to pick up the phone to call him, and I couldn’t because he was gone.”

  “Tell me it eases with time.”

  “It does.”

  She dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief he handed her. “You’re a good liar.”

  This was all she needed, this tender side of him, with his earnest face and the dark hair on his forehead, and those blue, blue eyes. Her eyes fell to his mouth—again.

  “You keep doing that and we won’t make it to the reception.”

  “Do what?”

  “Stare at my mouth. It makes me crazy.”

  It makes me crazy. Her sentiments exactly. He made her crazy.

  As they walked down the hall, music filtered out to them. They entered a large room filled with people, long tables draped with fine white cloths and piled high with sumptuous food. Three glittering chandeliers hung overhead. Numerous couples danced on the polished wooden floor to a soft tune.

  Applause started somewhere and increased until everyone was clapping. Jenna was taken aback at the warmth in their eyes. Each person they passed offered their congratulations.

  Jenna nodded after each person’s words, flawlessly meeting and greeting people. Sam felt like a useless lump next to her, stung that she still wouldn’t take his arm. The smile on his face began to hurt.

  They moved farther into the room. A middle-aged woman with chin-length blond hair struck up a conversation. “You play beautifully. Where were you schooled?”

  He eventually got pushed out of her circle and removed himself to get a drink. At the bar, he ordered whiskey straight up and threw the liquor back, emptying the shot glass. Ordering a glass of white wine and another whiskey, this time a double, he made his way back to her. Elbowing his way through, he handed Jenna the white wine. She smiled at him and brushed his hand with her fingers as she accepted it. For a split second, she hesitated, and then the heat in her eyes exposed her. He suddenly got it. She wouldn’t touch him because she was attracted to him. That’s why she wouldn’t take his arm.

  He caught snatches of the conversation.

  “Do you travel to exotic places to play your music?” a woman in a shimmering black dress asked, sipping delicately from her champagne glass.

  Jenna turned toward the woman, giving her a quick smile. Sam liked the way her face lit up as she answered the questions. “I’m on tour most of the year. I’ve been to Rome, Saint Petersburg and Budapest. I’ve done concerts at Christmas in London and New Year’s Eve in Milan. They were all beautiful cities.”

  “How much do you have to practice every day?” asked a man dressed in a dark blue pinstripe suit, a new Stetson on his head.

  Jenna shrugged. “It depends. If I’m learning a new piece, about four hours, otherwise, about two to three.”

  “What was it like to go to Julliard?” a dark-haired young woman asked, slipping her arm through her date’s crooked one and leaning on his shoulder, dreams in her eyes. She smiled shyly. “I play the piano and hope to get into Julliard next year when I graduate.”

  “It was exciting and fun. I got to play my music every day, take dance and theater and even sing.”

  “You can sing? Let’s hear a song.” The girl’s h
ead lifted from the young guy’s shoulder.

  Jenna looked cornered and Sam muscled his way through again. “Look, she hasn’t even eaten yet. Why don’t you give her a chance to get a plate and jaw some more before you have her performing again?” He held out his hand and, like a lifeline, Jenna took it. A jolt of electricity shivered through him at her touch, but he held on.

  He pulled her into his arms, thinking that dancing with her would give her time to catch her breath. He realized it only made him lose his.

  “Do you always take charge?”

  “When I see someone who I’m supposed to be hosting around town getting bombarded with questions and looking exhausted, I can’t help but butt in.”

  She was staring at him and again her eyes were riveted to his mouth. “Is that true,” he asked, “you travel most of the time?”

  She drew her eyes away from his mouth and he felt a sense of relief. “Yes. I travel a good part of the year and practice the rest. It suits me.”

  “When do you have any fun?”

  “Fun?”

  “You know, things that make you relax and laugh. You do remember how to do that?”

  She rewarded him with a smile. A very nice smile.

  “I have vague memories of it.”

  “Well, while you’re here, why don’t we see if we can make some more memories?”

  She blinked a couple of times and looked away as a faint rosiness deepened her skin. Well, he’d be damned. The city slicker blushed.

  “You dance the waltz beautifully,” she said, still not looking at him.

  Immediately, memories of Tiffany badgering him into learning how to waltz stiffened his muscles. His walls came up and his barriers slammed into place. What the hell was he doing? Jenna’s traveling reminded him too much of his own ex-wife’s interest in getting away from the boredom of the ranch. He wasn’t looking for another absentee woman. Their kiss was a lapse in judgment, a mistake that he could put down to libido and hormones. The woman was too fine for her own good, but that didn’t mean he’d have to do anything about it. It would be better for everyone if he kept his distance.