Wolf came in with two glasses of water and sat beside her on the couch, their knees almost touching. He’d chosen the cracked glass for his own, and she wished she’d just thrown the glass out when it had broken last month. But he didn’t seem to notice as he brought the drink up to his lips.
Melody licked her own lips as she watched, wanting to kiss him again.
“I was wrong to pull away.” She blurted her thought before she could think twice about saying it out loud.
Wolf jerked up, gazing at her with a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
She took a deep breath, running her fingertip along the rim of the glass. It’s now or never. “When I was lying in that alley, I thought I was going to die. A hundred thoughts flew through my mind, but the one regret I had was letting my fear of discovery get in the way of our kiss the other night. If tonight’s taught me anything, it’s that we can’t live in fear, or our worries will stop us from what we really want in life.”
Wolf’s gaze smoldered, taking in each inch of her face, then the curve of her lips. He touched the bandage on her forehead, then ran his finger down her cheek and underneath her chin, trailing warmth. He leaned in and kissed her before she could take in another breath. This time, his lips were more insistent, as if he’d imagined the end of their kiss many times and wanted to give her what she’d missed. Melody leaned into him, kissing him back. Without looking, he took both their glasses and placed them on the coffee table.
Her life and everything in it—orchestras, flute lessons, her family, the attack—melted away, leaving raw, primal passion that didn’t require thought. Desire stronger than she’d ever known swirled through her. This was what it was like to truly want someone more than anything in the world. Her hands traveled along the muscles in his back to his neck. She ran her fingers through his silky hair.
Wolf leaned over until she lay on the couch, his body pressed against hers. They moved together like one entity, twining their legs. She slipped off her shoes and tugged on his laces with her toes. No flip-flops tonight.
This time, Wolf broke the kiss. Melody stared up at him in shock. “What’s the matter?” She didn’t know how far she’d wanted it to go, but she sure as hell didn’t want to stop now.
“You’ve had a rough night.” He touched the bandage on her head. “You’re wounded and you might not be thinking straight.” He smiled a devilish grin. “As much as I’d like to let this go further, I’d be an arschloch to take advantage of your vulnerability right now.”
Melody kissed his lips even though they remained sealed. “Go ahead.” She placed kisses along his cheek and on his forehead. “Be an ars-lock.”
Wolf laughed and she knew the moment had been interrupted for good. He sat up and offered his hand to help her upright. “Your German is less than to be desired.”
Melody pulled herself up and sat beside him, still feeling like a fire raged inside her, radiating heat off her skin. “Well, I took French in high school.”
“French! How could you?”
“The German teacher was laid off the year before I got there.”
“How unfortunate.”
“Yes.” But not as unfortunate as Wolf having way too much integrity. Her hand lingered on his knee. Couldn’t he just be bad for one night?
“You should get to bed.” He gestured toward her room and finished unlacing his shoes. “We have the fund-raising ball tomorrow night, remember?”
Melody groaned. The last thing she wanted to do was get all dressed up and parade around in front of rich donors. She wanted just a few more minutes of heaven before fund-raiser hell. The dark eyes of the man who’d attacked her flashed in her memory. A shiver crept up her spine. “Would you mind if I stayed here, on the couch, with you tonight?”
“Not at all.” Wolf unbuttoned his shirt, and Melody averted her gaze, trying not to overheat. Her gaze snuck back, watching him unbuckle his belt. The pants came off, revealing thick, muscled thighs and red boxers. He laid his clothes neatly on the sofa’s edge. “As long as you don’t tempt me.”
Melody’s eyes widened, and she had to swallow around her wildly beating heart in her throat. He was gorgeous. All the right hard curves and manly shapes. “I’ll try not to.”
She snuggled up against him, resisting the urge to kiss him again. They lay down together and spread their legs out across the cushions. Wolf put his arm around her and she nuzzled up against him, closing her eyes. How she’d sleep like this, she had no idea. But she sure as hell didn’t want to go into her bedroom alone. And she knew he was too good a man to follow her.
The dim light from the kitchen cast their bodies in an ethereal glow. She felt as though she lay with a statue of a Roman God, with his smooth, stone hard muscles. Melody breathed deeply to cool her own cravings, and one thought stole her heated musings away. Gazing at Wolf’s profile as he closed his eyes, she whispered, “What are we going to tell them?”
Wolf’s chest rose and fell in a weighted breath. “Nothing.”
Melody frowned as disappointment fell like a rock in her stomach. She knew why they had to keep their connection secret, yet it still made her feel as though he was somehow embarrassed to be with her, like she was a dirty mistress.
Wolf’s face softened. “For now. Until the orchestra is more established.” He rubbed his thumb in circles on her hand. “Like you said, we can’t live with regrets. They have no right to pry into our personal lives.”
Melody liked the sound of that. A secret, forbidden love. Like Romeo and Juliet, except neither of them would have to die. “Wolf?”
“Yes?”
“What would Blake do if he found out about us?”
He pulled her even closer until she could smell the aftershave he’d used that morning mingling with his own heady scent. Somehow, she felt safer in his arms, as if he could fend off the rest of the world like he had her attackers. “Don’t worry about that now. Just enjoy our time together.”
She did, right up until her eyes closed and her mind drifted to soothing, blissful dreams.
Chapter Fourteen
Fate
Melody woke to the sound of sizzling butter on the frying pan and the scent of scrambled eggs. The night rushed back to her, along with the memory of the way Wolf felt in her arms. She glanced at his shoes, the ones she’d seen him wear during rehearsal, still strewn haphazardly across her carpet. Last night was no dream. Yet this new reality still tasted too delicious to be true.
Wolf came in with a plate full of fluffy eggs and buttered toast neatly cut into small triangles. “How’s my ward this morning?”
“Only a miniature hammer is pounding in my head.” Melody smiled and took the plate, along with two Advil and a glass of orange juice. “Thanks for staying with me last night.”
“My pleasure.” Wolf retrieved his own plate and sat beside her on the sofa. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I could have left you alone after what happened. And I had promised the doctor…”
Melody was not looking forward to calling the police with her side of the story. She’d have to live it all over again. “I can’t believe how fast it happened. It was a good thing you’d taken the back door as well.”
“I have something to admit.” Wolf placed his fork on the plate of half-uneaten eggs.
A zap of anxiety traveled through Melody’s heart. Had he changed his mind about their relationship? Again?
Wolf turned toward her, his eyes soft and vulnerable, like the sea before a storm. “I saw you leave last night, and I wanted to talk to you about the way I acted in the grocery store. I felt guilty for being so cold. So I ran after you.”
Melody relaxed against the sofa, wondering if she would have accepted his apology if he hadn’t been interrupted by the thug in the alley. Probably not. As much as she hated to admit it, something good had come from something so dark. The way fate worked gave her hope. Had the universe finally bent in their favor?
“Good thing you did.” Melody took his hand. “Do
n’t worry about the grocery store. We’re here now, and I won’t let the orchestra come between us.”
Wolf’s eyes dropped to the floor for a moment before he took up his fork and jabbed a pile of eggs. “I hope so.”
Melody wanted to press the topic further, but then The Moonlight Sonata erupted from his pocket. “My apologies.” Wolf placed his plate on the coffee table and pulled out his phone. His face paled. “It’s Blake. And we have the fund-raiser tonight…”
“Go ahead.” Melody had stiffened at Blake’s name and held her breath as if the personnel manager could hear her staggering heartbeat on the other end.
“Guten tag, Blake.” Wolf’s voice was calm and commanding, putting Melody at ease. If he could act this way with her in the room, then she felt sure they’d be able to hide their secret romance.
Melody sat on pinpricks, tapping her fingers along her plateful of eggs. Everything balanced on the harsh reality of this annoying fund-raiser. Its success determined whether the orchestra stayed together and whether Wolf could remain in the States. If he went back, more than likely, their budding relationship would fizzle with the long distance, turning her dream man into an if only.
“Yes, yes. The florist has been notified. Tell the caterer not to deliver the desserts too early. The auction must come first before the donors get too sleepy or decide to pack their bags. Make sure the wine flows throughout.”
More silence. Melody stopped clicking her fork against the plate and strained her ears. All she could hear was the constant hum of Blake’s carefully controlled voice in the background.
Wolf ended the call and slipped his feet in his shoes without bothering to tie the laces. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Of course. Just last-minute planning.” He winked at her, giving her back some of the confidence she’d had about their relationship the night before. The urge to talk with him about the doubt she’d heard in his voice swelled up inside her.
“Are you sure you can’t finish your eggs?”
“Give them to Ursula.” Wolf leaned down and pecked her cheek with a kiss. He gathered his coat and walked to the door. Melody followed him like a lost puppy, trying to think of a reason for him to stay. But she knew how important the fun-draiser was to their relationship. Nothing could eclipse that.
“See you tonight.” He kissed her, quickly but passionately, then smiled and disappeared down the hallway.
Melody sighed, feeling as though a part of their conversation had sat unfinished. She wanted to run after him, but she had a wedding to play for that evening, and the fund-raiser later that night. Probably best for him to go.
She stood in the doorway of her apartment with Ursula swimming in her bowl and a gigantic plate full of eggs, missing a part of her heart.
…
Wolf shuffled down the steps of Melody’s apartment feeling giddy, joyful, and a little guilty for leaving in such a hurry. But if this fund-raiser didn’t work out, he’d be packing his bags with no chance to see Melody again.
I have to make this work. Even if it meant being Blake’s lackey for another night. Melody was worth it. Kissing her had rekindled so many emotions that he’d thought Alda had killed. Trust was building slowly, and for the first time in a long time, he had the courage to open up.
Just when he thought he’d lost Melody, he realized how much she’d come to mean to him in such a short amount of time. The pictures on her wall showed him who she really was: not a fame leech like Alda who had her own photo shoots plastered all over her wall, but someone rooted in family, the kind of woman he could see raising his children. Alda wanted to use him and his maestro status to spread her fame in America, but Melody wanted him for who he was. He yearned to spend more time with her to see how this deep connection developed, but he knew he had to secure his orchestra first.
Wolf whipped his car door open and jumped into the driver’s seat, ready to take on the world. A board member had delayed Blake with her chitchat, so Wolf had agreed to take up some of the personnel manager’s errands to pull this fund-raiser together. A small voice wondered if Blake had planned this delay on purpose to sabotage the event, but that was ridiculous. Why would the violinist destroy his own orchestra?
Wolf drove from Melody’s apartment at the southern end of town to Easthampton’s rich northern end, where each mansion took up the size of a softball field. He pulled into a circular driveway in front of a traditional colonial-style mansion with white columns and a golden plaque that read built in 1872. Chuckling, Wolf thought about how that was considered “old” in America. Compared to The Porta Nigra in Trier, built in gray sandstone between 186 and 200 AD, it was a newborn baby.
He walked into the main foyer, a long hallway lined with abstract paintings of geometric shapes and seemingly random zigzags. A woman at the desk peered at him through her thick-rimmed, wasp-shaped glasses connected to a dangling beaded chain behind her ears. Her hair rose up in a beehive-shaped bun.
“Can I help you, sir?” She sounded like he’d intruded on an already busy day of doing nothing.
He straightened his coat, hoping she didn’t notice the stubble on his cheeks or his two-day-old clothes. “I’m here to pick something up for Blake Templeton of the Easthampton Civic Symphony for our annual fund-raising ball.”
She creased her eyebrows in a skeptical look and glanced at her paperwork on her mahogany desk. “I see.”
Wolf shifted impatiently. “I’m the conductor of the orchestra, Wolfgang Braun. You can look it up on the website.”
She adjusted her glasses and pursed her lips, making no effort to glance at her desktop computer. “I’m sure you are, sir. I just need to check with the artist donating the item.” She gestured to a leather couch across the room. “Take a seat.”
Great. Wolf jutted out his lower jaw as he walked across the room and sat down. I left Melody for this?
He tapped his foot to the rhythm of the first movement of Mozart’s Fortieth symphony. Then, he flipped through random beauty magazines, feeling as though the sickly sweet scent of the perfume ads spread all over his hands. Man, he really needed to shower and shave. He couldn’t imagine in just a few hours, he’d be wearing a tux and greeting donors in the marble-lined corridors of the Fuller Center of Art. If all goes as planned.
Chancing a look at the woman behind the desk as she sat waiting for a return call, he pulled out his phone. He wanted to call Melody, but it seemed too soon after this morning. Wanting to share his happiness with his brother, he dialed Johann’s number instead. He still hadn’t talked to his brother since he’d left, and it wasn’t like him not to call to check up. It would be about five p.m. in Germany, and Johann would be wrapping up work in his office.
A woman answered with another annoyed, hard-edged voice. “Law office of Braun, Peterson, and son.”
Must be a new secretary. Johann was known for firing them all the time. Wolf knew his brother had an unforgiving streak, but he loved him despite it.
Wolf had to remind himself to switch out of his stilting English. “Yes, can I speak with Johann Braun?” he asked in German.
“May I ask whose calling?”
“Tell him it’s Wolf.”
“Hold on just a moment.”
Wolf leaned backward. After sleeping on Melody’s couch all night, it felt good to stretch out his legs. A stiff lower back was of little consequence to being so close to her. He could still smell her lavender scent on his skin.
“Wolf. How are you?” His brother’s voice was uncharacteristically gruff, like he was dealing with one of his opponents in court.
“I’m good.” Wolf thought back to the night with Melody. “Ausgezeichnet, actually.”
“Really, that wonderful, eh?” His brother’s voice fell flat and silence followed.
“Have I caught you at a busy moment?”
“No. Just finishing up,” Johann snapped.
Wolf took a deep breath. “You haven’t called in
a long time, so I wanted to catch up.” He drummed his fingers on the leather armrest, wondering what in the hell had gotten into his brother. He knew Johann, and this was more than a bad day.
“Nothing’s changed around here. Brigitte is home with the kids. Business is booming, as usual. Mom and Dad are celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary next week.”
“Oh, that’s right. Sounds great.” He waited for Johann to ask about his life in the States, but the other end was as still as if he’d hung up. Something was very, very wrong.
“Is everything okay?”
Johann breathed in and out again. “Listen, Wolf.”
Wolf tensed on the couch. “Yes?”
“I want the best for you. I really do. Which is why I can’t keep in touch if you’re still with her. I can’t watch you ruin your life.”
Wolf was speechless for long moments, trying to piece together his brother’s words. “You mean Alda? We broke up months ago, before I even left for the States.” Had Johann been steaming this whole time because he thought they’d gotten back together? Wolf wished he’d called sooner.
“You can date her all you want, just don’t lie to me.” Johann’s voice turned hard. “Brigitte ran into her the other day at the salon—she doesn’t usually go so high end, but her sister was having a party, she wanted to look her best, and you know how women are about these things. Anyway, all Alda did was gloat about how she had you wrapped around her manicured finger. Said she was going to some big fund-raiser for your orchestra.”
Wolf nearly choked. “That’s ridiculous. I haven’t even spoken with her since we broke up. In fact, I left a message on her phone telling her not to contact me.”
Johann’s voice softened. “It sounds like you’ve got a big problem.”
Wolf remembered her multiple phone calls. He should have known better. That woman wouldn’t take no for an answer. He should have waited to talk with her in real time and not left a message. “How long ago did Brigitte speak with her?”
Playing the Maestro Page 10