His chuckle rumbled through his chest, tickling her cheek. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. But the answer is no.”
A strange lump formed in her belly. “You make it sound like you’ve had plenty of material for comparison.”
“Hey now, you’re the one who made me sound like an expert.”
“I’m sorry.”
His muscular arm squeezed her gently, and his lips pressed softly against her forehead. “Don’t be, sweetheart. God knows I deserve what I get.”
“I’m not.” Talia licked her lips nervously. “An expert, I mean. I don’t have much experience with this kind of thing.”
“I gathered that.”
She stiffened. “Every girl is entitled to a rebound.”
“I see. And that’s what I am?”
“Of course. Dylan and I were together a long time.” She felt bolder. “In fact, I think the longer your relationship was, the more rebounds you get. Right?”
“Am I the one-night stand expert or the relationship expert? You can’t have it both ways.”
An uncomfortable silence formed, wrapping her in a blanket of insecurity and making her wonder why she would bring home a stranger. It shouldn’t have mattered how inexplicably attracted she was to him. Erik Aasen was still a stranger.
“How long?” he rumbled, breaking through her self-condemnation.
“How long what?”
“How long were you and Dylan together?”
“The better part of three years, but we hadn’t been engaged long.”
She felt his body go rigid beside her. It was a curious reaction to such irrelevant information.
“When was the big day supposed to be?”
“I hadn’t set a date. I didn’t feel certain about him yet.”
“Good instincts.”
“I suppose.” Talia thought back to the reception and the blonde who’d demanded so much of Erik’s attention.
“What?” he prodded. “I can tell you’re gearing up to ask me something.”
“How can you tell that?”
He reached down, pulled her lower lip out of her mouth, and smoothed the frown lines between her eyes. “You’re thinking very hard.”
“There was a woman at the reception,” she began slowly. “You spent a lot of time with her.”
“Probably my sister, Desiree.”
“No, I saw your sister get into her car. It wasn’t her. This woman had long blonde hair.”
She couldn’t have said why, but she felt the reticence in his body. He didn’t want to talk about that woman, didn’t even want to mention her. Why? What special place did she hold in his life?
“That was probably Courteney. Her father is a business associate of mine. We’re in the midst of a large merger.”
That wasn’t so unreasonable. “Does Courteney work for her father?”
“No.”
Okay, not so reasonable then.
“Courteney is a very ambitious, very…” His voice trailed off. “My younger sister calls her determined.”
“And you? What do you call her?”
“A pit bull,” Erik muttered in low tones.
She burst out laughing, her surprise chasing away her doubts. It was too bad, really, that one-night stands and rebounds never lasted. There were an awful lot of things about Erik Aasen that appealed to her, even if he was way out of her league.
Chapter Four
Erik awoke with a start. He was unused to waking up in a stranger’s bed, and it was somewhat disorienting. He was also alone. It was an odd combination, one not conducive to putting him in a good mood.
Giving his body a few moments to adjust, he looked over Talia’s studio apartment in the harsh light of day. It was tiny, but that wasn’t unexpected. The room was roughly the equivalent of the foyer of his Beacon Hill home and probably the size of his closet at the Brookline estate.
She didn’t have much. But the things scattered around the small space were well cared for and lovingly placed. Several sheets of music sat waiting on the piano. A violin bow was carefully balanced against the stand. She’d cleaned up before leaving for work. The dishes in the sink had been washed and put away, the cabinets closed and countertops wiped down. The room felt like a home, something neither of his residences had ever managed to do.
Erik swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. He had to get moving. This was completely unlike him. He had firm rules about spending the night with his dates. The rule being that he didn’t do it. Ever. A few hours, then a quick cab home and it was done. No awkward good-byes or empty promises to call.
Though it seemed Talia made those things unnecessary.
She had no illusions. She’d said as much. It was a dream come true for a man like him. Especially since the expected engagement to Courteney lingered over his head like the sword of Damocles.
He grabbed his clothes, pulling them on with more violence than necessary. Why did it bother him? Marriage was nothing but a business transaction, and his upcoming engagement would include a billion-dollar merger. It couldn’t get more worthwhile than that.
Talia was just another fuck, albeit the only fuck who had ever left him high and dry in the morning. And for some ridiculous reason, that really bothered him.
He grabbed his cell and keys from her bedside table before locking the apartment door behind him and stepping out. No matter how convenient it was for him, he wasn’t letting Talia leave things between them like this.
* * *
Talia stared blankly at the piece of music on the stand before her. Ten minutes had passed without her playing one note. Warm sunlight filled the conservatory, bathing the polished black finish of the Steinway grand a few feet away. Setting her violin bow aside, she stood and walked absently toward the piano.
She hadn’t a clue how she’d managed to make it through her morning classes. But with ten private lessons looming before her and the financial necessity of finding another paying gig for that evening, it was time to get a grip.
“Erik Aasen was a one-night stand.” She ran her fingers along the Steinway’s closed lid.
Okay, he was supposed to be a one-night stand. The problem came from being unable to treat him like one. She’d thought she was over it. The monumental effort of getting up, showering, and leaving him naked and alone in her bed had been what she considered a huge step in the moving-on process. But it was now past lunchtime. She should’ve been reminiscing fondly about the incredibly mind-blowing sex, not waxing poetic over the shade of his brilliant green eyes or the sound of his laughter. You weren’t supposed to care if your rebound had a great sense of humor or not.
Leslie poked her head into the room. “You still in here?”
She glanced up, making a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat.
“Are you teaching in here this afternoon? I thought they moved you to the north wing after construction wrapped up.”
“I hate those tiny little studio rooms,” Talia grumbled. “They’re claustrophobic.”
Leslie stepped all the way inside the conservatory and gave her a critical once-over before cocking her head to one side and folding her arms across her chest. “C’mon, Tallie; spill it. What happened last night?”
She turned back to the piano, sitting on the bench and opening the lid. Her fingers settled idly on the keys, drawing out a soft melody that could’ve been anything.
“Don’t make me come over there and beat it out of you. What happened?”
“We left the reception and went to some bar in Back Bay.”
“Back Bay?” The dubious tone in Leslie’s voice made Talia chuckle.
“The owner is a friend of his.”
“Okay. Then what?”
She shrugged one narrow shoulder, trying to act nonchalant. “We went back to my place.”
“Oh. My. God. Tallie, what were you thinking?”
“That the sex was going to be spectacular.”
“And?”
“It
was better than that.”
“You hardly knew him! You can’t think to make a habit of this kind of behavior.”
“Oh c’mon; why not? I’ll find a different fuck for every night of the week until I’ve met my quota of rebounds.”
“Rebounds?”
“Sure. Aren’t you entitled to a certain number of rebounds based on the length of the relationship you’re mourning?”
Leslie rolled her eyes. “You can’t possibly be mourning the loss of Dylan.”
“Maybe not.”
“So even if that ludicrous rebound theory had any credence, it wouldn’t apply to your situation.”
“That’s so unfair.”
“What’s wrong?”
Talia’s fingers slumped onto the keys, the discordant blitz of notes ringing out. She knew her friend was just worried. She and Leslie had been thick as thieves since starting Boston School for the Arts as students almost fifteen years before. But there was no easy explanation for the way she felt inside.
“It’s nothing. I just feel adrift, that’s all. I promise.”
Leslie sighed and perched beside her on the narrow piano bench. “I know it can’t be easy to walk away from your relationship with Dylan. You guys were together forever.”
“Actually, that’s not bothering me at all.”
“Really?”
“No, I think Dylan had become a habit more than anything else.”
“Oh.”
Talia sighed. “Everything just feels so pointless.”
Leslie jumped to her feet and flung her hands upward in frustration. “This is ridiculous! It wasn’t pointless yesterday. How can it have changed overnight?”
She shrugged.
“Ugh! I know exactly what happened. You went out with some rich guy last night. He showed you a good time and gave you a taste of the way his people live and now you’re not happy with your life the way it was.”
Is that really what had happened to her last night?
Leslie threw a slip of paper on the Steinway’s gleaming lid. “I should be shot for encouraging your insanity.”
Talia snatched it up, hardly daring to breathe. The slip was from the school’s booking office, requesting a pianist for something labeled the Colton Birthday Party. Judging by the Brookline address, it would be an upscale event packed with Boston’s wealthiest citizens, and hopefully Erik. Excitement burned away her melancholy. This had to be the hand of fate giving her a second chance to see him again.
What did you call round two of a one-night stand?
Chapter Five
Talia settled behind the Bechstein after the housekeeper’s standard “expectation” speech. To them she was nothing more than background. Pretty much the equivalent of a potted plant or a side table. Guests didn’t actually pay attention to the music. It was just ambience. On the flip side, most of them would’ve noticed if there was dead silence in the ballroom. It didn’t make sense, and it didn’t have to. They were rich people.
She opened a book of Chopin’s waltzes and paid scant attention to her performance. They paid; she played. If they weren’t going to listen, she wasn’t going to bother with perfection.
The ballroom was immense, decorated with bits of marble and gold inlay. Stone columns ringed the room in a style that screamed Greek revival. The marble dance floor was an intricately worked piece of art. Not that this stopped the dancers from scratching the hell out of it with their ridiculously expensive stiletto heels.
When Talia had confirmed the booking, the event planner had described a small get-together to celebrate a birthday. Not that Talia had been stupid enough to believe her idea of small and their idea of small were anything alike. The fact that she’d been hired by an event planner said otherwise.
Guests littered the ballroom, the wide veranda outside, and probably the rest of the private estate. Buffets heaped with food and champagne sat off to one side. A few cozy tables clustered around the buffet, inviting guests to sit and chat with friends while they ate. Padded benches ringed the dance floor where footsore dancers could rest a bit before indulging in more champagne and caviar.
She hadn’t had a chance to view much more of the estate since the cab had dropped her at the service entrance. It wasn’t as if they were going to offer her a tour. She was nothing more than a temporary employee to them.
Time spooled by unchecked while Talia played and brooded. Nothing had felt the same since Erik. It shouldn’t have mattered. Erik shouldn’t have mattered. The night they’d spent together shouldn’t have mattered. He was nothing more than casual sex. Of course, the sex had been anything but casual. Talia should’ve been satisfied. But she wasn’t. Instead of satisfaction she’d been left with a restless sense of incompletion. Something was missing. Something had changed. Her life wasn’t enough anymore. But Leslie was wrong. It wasn’t the money, wasn’t the lifestyle. It was just Erik.
As if thinking his name was enough to unleash some cosmic force, Erik himself stepped into view across the room. Talia’s fingers turned to ice while her face flushed hot. She had worried she might never see him again. And she’d taken this job with the hope of getting a second chance. But nothing had prepared her for the possibility.
“Did you see her legs? There’s enough there to wrap all the way around my waist.”
“Bet her pussy’s hot and tight. You know what they say about quiet types.”
Erik frowned as he approached. He’d known Joshua and Seth since boarding school. Long enough to know how their minds worked.
“Who’s the score, gentlemen?”
Joshua rolled his thick neck from side to side, cracking his joints. His curly gold hair barely brushed the collar of his suit, and his blue eyes sparked with interest. Seth was the polar opposite, with straight dark hair he kept tucked behind his ears and brown eyes. Erik could see half a dozen society girls salivating over Seth’s and Joshua’s brawny physiques from across the room. He wondered which one had caught the former college lacrosse players’ attention.
“The piano player,” Seth answered without looking away.
A heavy feeling settled in the pit of Erik’s stomach as he followed their gaze. He’d spotted Talia almost immediately after entering the Colton ballroom. Since then he’d been trying to figure out a way to talk to her alone.
“God, look at that smooth back. All that skin just waiting for my tongue,” Seth murmured. “I’d spank her ass just to watch her arch that pretty spine.”
“Fine with me,” Joshua said with a broad smile. “You fuck her from behind while I stab my fingers into all that hair and put my cock in her mouth.”
“What makes you think she’d give either of you the time of day?” Erik snapped.
Seth and Joshua exchanged amused glances. How was it possible for them to assume she’d be willing to be their plaything just because they had plenty of cash in the bank?
“Toss a couple of pretty baubles in her direction, and she’d beg us for a night of pleasure,” Seth predicted.
Erik ground his teeth in agitation. A part of him knew instinctively that Talia was beyond that kind of enticement. But a niggling doubt in his mind reminded him that he hadn’t been entirely truthful with her. And she’d made mention of a rebound quota, but nothing about their night together was a rebound.
“There you are, Erik. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
Courteney snatched his arm. Slipping her slender hand possessively into the crook of his elbow, she flashed a cool smile at Joshua and Seth. Erik’s jaw nearly creaked in protest as his teeth ground forcefully together. She was wearing some kind of perfume that made his eyes water and his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. If that wasn’t bad enough, she was all but crawling up his side.
“Did you need something?” He forced his tone to remain polite.
“It’s time to begin the toasts.”
“Of course.”
Seth chuckled, his brown eyes filling with mirth as he and Joshua watched Courteney strangle him wi
th her diamond-studded leash. At least that’s what it felt like to Erik. She didn’t come right out and say it, but they both knew he was going to participate in the party festivities just to keep her and her father happy enough to sign the merger documents. If only he could find a way to get the documents signed without selling his soul to the devil in the process.
Insanity. That’s what it was. No matter what the gossiping garden-club ladies tittered about at their get-togethers, Erik wasn’t the kind of man to keep a wife at one end of town and a mistress at the other. In fact, he’d never had a desire to settle down at all. He preferred to keep his relationships simple. As in a few weeks long without spending a full night in anyone’s bed but his own. He didn’t date multiple women at once. He didn’t have a little black book. The idea of trying to keep two women happy at the same time was exhausting. He had better, more lucrative ways to spend his time.
And yet here he was, already on the brink of a full-blown affair before he’d even managed to propose marriage. What the hell was his problem?
Courteney tapped his shoulder to regain his attention. “There are my grandparents, Erik. They’re dying to meet you!”
“How exciting. Time to meet the relatives.” Joshua lifted an eyebrow.
“Of course, Erik. Please go and chat up the grandparents,” Seth agreed. “I think Josh and I will go take turns making passes at the talented musician.”
“Who?” Courteney’s attention was briefly diverted.
Joshua grinned. “The woman sitting at the piano.”
“Why would you want to talk to her?”
“She’s quite…talented,” Seth said, choosing his words carefully.
Courteney wrinkled her nose. “If you like the trashy sort, I guess. Her dress is horrible. It’s like four seasons ago. And don’t even get me started on the shoes.”
Joshua didn’t share Seth’s tact. “Who the hell cares about her clothes? They’re the first thing I’m going to take off anyway.”
Courteney’s eyes grew speculative before she turned back to Talia and gave her another critical once-over.
Strung Out Page 4