“I’ve changed my mind about going back separately.”
“Okay.” She hurried to keep up with his long strides as he left the store and stepped into the hot humid air outside.
He glanced behind him to see if she was there before moving to the curb and giving a sharp whistle. Kerry marveled when a taxi swung to the curb immediately. She should take taxi-hailing lessons from this man. When he was in a hurry, he knew what to do.
When he leaned forward and gave the driver his home address, Kerry began to understand what the hurry was.
“I thought you had an important appointment?” she asked, giving him an innocent look.
“I do.” He tugged off his tie and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.
“I see.” Kerry smiled and leaned back against the seat.
The ride in the cab was fast and furious. Judd’s lovemaking in the apartment was very similar, but Kerry wasn’t complaining.
“I don’t want to go back to the office,” he admitted as they lay entwined on his bed.
“Then stay here. Play your saxophone for me.”
He lifted his head and looked at her.
“I didn’t mess with it, just unlatched the cover and peeked in. I thought you said you didn’t play anymore?”
“I didn’t.” He stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “Until you came along. Then it seemed just the thing to do.”
“Then do it now. I’d love to hear you.”
He gave her a lopsided grin and bounded off the bed. “Sorry, gotta run.”
“My goodness, you’re too shy to play for me.”
“Of course not. I’m too busy.” He headed for the shower.
She followed him. “I don’t believe you. I think you’re ducking out.”
“Nope.” He spoke over the roar of the shower. “Got a meeting in half an hour.”
“Which I had the feeling you were ready to cancel a moment ago, before I mentioned the sax.”
“Change the middle letter of that word and we’ll talk.”
“But I really want to hear you play.”
He turned off the shower, stepped out and reached behind her for a towel. “Maybe some other time.”
“Like when?” She followed him into the bedroom. “How about tonight after my gig?”
He threw the towel down and opened a drawer to take out a clean pair of briefs. “Considering what you’ll be wearing tonight for your performance, I hardly think I’ll be in the mood to play my saxophone.”
She leaned close and batted her eyes at him. “I adore a man who plays a saxophone, Judd.”
“You only adore a man who plays it well.” He shoved his arms into the sleeves of a clean shirt and fastened his cuff links. “I don’t. At least not anymore.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe me.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips before continuing to dress with quick efficient movements. “I’ll take a cab to the office. Why don’t you follow me in about fifteen minutes? I’m sure the band wants to go over a few things before tonight. And Tom, the producer, wants a crack at recording some of the songs you’re performing at Compulsions. He really wants you to make it.”
“That’s nice.”
“And so do I.” He buckled his belt and grabbed his jacket from the back of the desk chair where he’d tossed it. “See you after your last set. And make sure the zipper on that dress works.” He kissed her once more, fast and hard, before leaving the room.
Kerry sank onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. Life sure moved at a frantic pace in New York. Being with Judd was wonderful, but she missed her morning walks on the beach and the lunch hours she’d often spend on Soldier’s Green with a sandwich and a can of soda. Since she’d arrived in New York she hadn’t seen much daylight except briefly in the morning before she started work at the studio.
She stood and went over to touch a philodendron in the corner of Judd’s bedroom. To her surprise it was silk. Very realistic silk, but silk nevertheless. Putting on her robe, which now hung next to his on the bathroom door, she made a quick tour of the apartment. Every plant in it was fake.
She thought about that while she showered and dressed. As she stepped into the muggy heat outside, she glanced with longing across the street toward Central Park. She’d never thought much about needing green things around her. She’d just always had them, and now she didn’t. You could stroll in Central Park—there was even a song that said so.
The doorman would have called her a cab, but Kerry was determined to flag one down herself. She walked a block away from the apartment building and started signaling as cabs whizzed by. Maybe she’d have to learn to whistle through her teeth the way Judd did. Twice someone beat her out, but finally she jumped in ahead of another would-be taxi stealer.
Unfortunately the air-conditioning didn’t work well in the one she’d caught. She rolled down a window and was greeted with the stench of exhaust.
“I think we’re having one of them inversions,” the driver said.
“No doubt.” Kerry thought again of Central Park. Maybe tomorrow she’d beg off for a couple of hours and walk through it. She needed grass and trees. She’d like a little ocean, too, but the grass and trees would do for now. And she wanted to hear Judd play the sax. For some reason, that had become very important to her.
She remembered how he’d looked at her when she’d first walked out of the dressing room in the black dress. She smiled. A man who looked at a woman like that could be convinced to do just about anything. Even play the sax.
12
THAT NIGHT a few of the celebrities from Monday night’s party showed up at Compulsions, and Kerry was grateful for the black dress. Now they wouldn’t see her in the same thing she’d worn to the benefit. After the first set, while Kerry sat with Judd and sipped mineral water, several people came over to offer her congratulations on the performance, and Kerry listened in a kind of daze.
“And the dress is dynamite,” a woman commented before leaving the table.
Kerry turned to Judd. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “Business investment.”
“You said you were paying for it, and not the company.”
He sipped his scotch and soda. “That’s because I didn’t want to explain to our accountant that I’d torn your other dress while seducing you. But no matter how it was paid for, that dress was a good business decision. When you run the company the lines get blurred, anyway.” He eyed her over the rim of his glass.
“So I’m learning.”
Paul came to the table. “About ready to knock ’em dead again, Kerry?”
She laughed. “Some of them came in that way. I’d be satisfied if we can put a little life in them.”
Paul squeezed her shoulder. “Those new numbers we rehearsed should do the trick.”
They should have, Kerry thought as they worked their way through to the last number, but the crowd still didn’t really catch fire. Again, her expectations were probably askew.
“Good set,” Judd said as he handed her into the limo. “Tomorrow night we’ll see how they react at the Besotted Fox.”
“I hope the Besotted Fox gets a more enthusiastic clientele. I just didn’t feel any chemistry here, Judd.”
He shrugged. “That happens, which is why I booked you into two different clubs for your time here.”
She gazed at him as rainbows of neon slid over him. She wanted to follow the path of the light with her fingers, but if she did they wouldn’t talk, and she needed some answers. “If this were the only club you’d tested me in, would I get a contract on the basis of these performances?”
He hesitated and at last met her gaze. “No.”
Her stomach clenched. So her expectations hadn’t been too high. She hadn’t electrified the audiences at Compulsions, or the anonymous company representatives who had wandered in, and that was what Judd had been looking for. “What if the same thing happens at the Besotted Fox?” Her heart pounded rapidly as she awaited his answer.
<
br /> Instead of replying, he took her hands and turned them over to kiss her palms.
“You’d send me home with no contract, wouldn’t you?”
He glanced up, his eyes luminous. “I don’t know what I’d do.”
Her fingers curled into fists. “Yes, you do. You haven’t come this far in the music business by making decisions based on sentiment.”
He rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles. “I’ve come this far without meeting someone like you.”
His statement stunned her. Would he keep her on, despite her inability to command an audience, because he wanted her? She imagined the smirks and company gossip, the barely suppressed disdain as he tried to make her into a star because it suited his own needs to keep her there.
She swallowed. “Then if you don’t know what you’d do, I’ll tell you my plan. If the crowd at the Besotted Fox doesn’t like me any better than the bunch at Compulsions, I’m going home, whether you send me or not. I won’t be the boss’s misguided project, the untalented little hussy who’s trying to sleep her way to fame and fortune.”
The muscles in his face tightened. “Do you think my judgment about you is screwed up because we’re lovers?”
“I sincerely hope not. I need the unvarnished truth from you, Judd, and I want to be treated the way you would treat anyone who came to town to audition for you.”
“Too late for that.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant.” He took her by the shoulders and pulled her toward him. “And I won’t shine you on, Kerry.”
She gazed up at him as he lowered his head. “Promise?”
“Scout’s honor,” he murmured, just before he kissed her.
As he reached beneath her chiffon skirt, she pinned his hand between her thighs and disengaged her lips from his. “Stop.”
His hand moved farther up. “Don’t want to.”
“What about Zorba?”
“Besides paying him extra to chauffeur us late at night, I’ve also paid him to keep his eyes straight ahead.”
“And the other cars?”
“I’ll be discreet. People drive too fast in Manhattan to figure out subtleties going on in somebody else’s car. I’ve been the soul of propriety all night while you enticed me in that dress. Kiss me, Kerry, and let me be a rascal for a while.”
With a sigh of delight she parted her thighs, and the rascal pleasured her with deft fingers until she would have cried out had he not muffled her response with a deep kiss.
When she stilled, he lifted his head and smiled gently. “I love that about women. You can have your private little fireworks and practically nothing shows. We could drive around all night and I could keep giving you orgasm after orgasm, and the world wouldn’t know.” His eyes twinkled. “Want to?”
She took a steadying breath. “I believe in mutual satisfaction.”
“Which is my good fortune, because we’re almost home. Although in my condition it would be nice if someone could airlift me into the bedroom.”
Kerry grinned and touched the bulge in his slacks.
“Don’t,” he warned.
Taking pity on him, she removed her hand.
“We’ll just sit here a moment,” he said with a heartfelt sigh. “As I said, women have all the luck.”
“And men have all the monuments,” Kerry added with a chuckle. “Many of them dedicated to that certain male idiosyncrasy.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Consider the Washington Monument, the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Seattle Space Needle, even New York skyscrapers. Why, the Empire State Building is a clear representation of—”
His voice rumbled low. “Could we discuss something else?”
“How about the concert you’re going to give me in about ten minutes on the saxophone?”
“That’ll work. Hey, I think I’m ready to walk already. Only I’m not giving you a concert,” he said as he opened the limo door.
“Please, Judd.”
He helped her out. “Ask me something else and your wish is my command.”
“This is what I want.”
He waved to Zorba and took her elbow as they walked into the lobby. “Why?”
“This will sound really corny.”
“So will that saxophone. Trust me, Kerry, you don’t want this.” He ushered them into the elevator and pushed the button for his floor.
She watched his supple fingers. She’d been drawn to the image of him playing from the beginning of their relationship. “I think the saxophone has a lot to do with who you are. I think I’ll know you better after I hear you play.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled ruefully. “You’ll know I can’t play the sax worth a damn, that’s what you’ll know.”
“I don’t care how well you play.”
“Sure. You’re a top-rate musician who’s studied all her life, and you don’t care how I play? Tell me another story.”
She walked past him into the apartment. The saxophone case still rested on the coffee table where she’d first found it. She turned to him. “Play for me,” she coaxed.
He tossed the keys in his hand. “Maybe someday.”
“Now. We’re out of balance, Judd. I’m always the vulnerable one, up on stage and in the studio. You’re always in charge.”
“I wasn’t particularly in charge back in the limo.”
“Well, that’s different.” But she’d use that vulnerability if she had to. She unlatched the case and took out the gold-toned instrument. She rubbed her fingers up and down the bell and glanced at him. He’d stopped tossing his keys.
“I really want you to play this for me,” she said, dropping her voice a register. One strap of her dress had slipped over her shoulder. She let it stay that way as she gave him a smoldering look. “A saxophone gets me hot.”
“Kerry—”
“I can tell by the way you kiss that you haven’t forgotten how to play. You can make this sax moan, just like you can make me moan.”
He swallowed, and his tawny eyes became the color of liquid gold.
“I’ll even get it ready, and when you’re finished, I’ll be ready…for anything.” In school she’d tried about every instrument that existed, so she knew her way around this one. She attached the mouthpiece and picked up a reed. “Want me to suck on your reed?”
He made a strangled sound in his throat and stepped forward, reaching for her.
She backed away, moistening the reed as she held his gaze. Then she attached the reed to the mouthpiece. “Play first. Then I’m yours.”
He moved as if hypnotized and took the instrument from her hand. Her gaze never leaving his, she sank slowly onto the sofa. He put the strap over his head, and as she’d expected, a subtle transformation took place. His fingers found the keys automatically and his body relaxed to accommodate the heft of the instrument.
As he lipped the mouthpiece, he gave her a look that caused the equivalent of a nuclear meltdown. He’d accepted the challenge and he would seduce her with his song.
A shiver ran through her as the first notes, sultry as the humid New York night, filled the apartment. He improvised, spilling a jazz melody over her like warm caramel, surrounding her with lazy, sensuous notes that melted together into pictures of long nights, twisted sheets and slippery bodies. His fingers caressed the keys with the same loving precision they’d lavished on her. She ached for him.
Through half-closed eyes he watched her as he played. That heavy-lidded gaze drew her as no other expression of his had. She reveled in the languid sweetness of it, the whisper of sin, the hint of decadence. After this, he could do as he pleased with her. She was his fool.
The sax wailed to a climax, and for a moment, he closed his eyes and lived the music. She’d known he would, had sensed the depths in him that the music would touch when he created it himself. And when he created it for her. She needed no other declaration. Words were nothing compared to this outpouring from his soul.
&nbs
p; The last notes drifted between them, and he opened his eyes.
She held out her arms.
Watching her, he lifted the strap over his head and laid the instrument carefully on a chair before walking to her. Then he took her outstretched arms and pulled her to her feet. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Yes.”
“It’s all I have.”
“And all I want.”
His kiss was rich with feeling. He undressed her slowly for the first time, as if there was no hurry, as if they had a lifetime. Kerry believed they did.
His slow, deliberate loving carried more meaning than any of the frenzied couplings they’d enjoyed in the few days they’d been together. She undressed him with the same care and reverence.
He lowered her to the couch, started to enter her, then drew back with a soft exclamation.
“What?” She cupped his face in both hands. “What, my darling?”
He searched her face. “You know what. Would you have stopped me?”
Her heart wrenched. Would she have stopped him from loving her without protection? Slowly she shook her head.
His voice was gentle. “Then you’re a fool.”
So she was. His fool.
He reached back for his slacks, found the packet and put on the condom with swift, impatient motions.
Kerry wanted to cry. The hard-won communion of souls was gone. When he came to her, his first thrust was fierce. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye.
Dismay filled his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head and grasped his hips. Tears clogged her throat. “I loved your song,” she choked out.
“Ah, Kerry.” He kissed her softly and began to move inside her. His loving was wonderful, but she couldn’t forget the tenderness with which he’d almost taken her, before he’d refocused on reality. As his knowing rhythm brought her to a searing climax, she cried out for what was…and for what might have been.
* * *
“COME WITH ME to Central Park this afternoon.” Kerry adjusted a pearl necklace at her throat as she made a last inspection of her appearance in the bathroom mirror the next morning.
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