"You think so?"
"Well, I'm not sure how many of us would know the difference between a Magnum and a Sig. That's a little off the radar of the general population." She took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I don't think it means anything dire, John. You could be a fan of crime movies. Or you could have come across these weapons in your everyday life. It's hard to tell at this point."
"Great." John felt his mouth turn down. "So I could be a cop or a contract killer or a movie buff. Pretty vague, Doc."
She shook her head. "Over these past weeks, John, we've thrown every test in the book at you. You're a fascinating case and we've made no secret of that fact. This dossier..." she tapped the thick folder with one finger, "contains as much as we can dig out of your brain about who--in essence--you are."
John eyed the papers and lifted one eyebrow wryly. "And this has helped how?"
"It's helped us learn something about your basic personality. Your memories are stored in certain places of your brain, as you know. These we cannot access at the moment. However, your personality--well, that's slightly different. All those questionnaires you filled out? There was a purpose to them."
John remembered the endless hours of forms and seemingly random questions. He flexed his hand absently, almost as if it still ached. "Good to know I didn't get cramp for nothing."
Dr. Lin ignored the flip comment. "We know that you are, essentially, a straightforward and honest person. You don't seem to exhibit any responses that would make us believe you are dangerous. You have a strong sense of honor, respect and a willingness to accept others as you find them." Her lips curled up at the corners. "You don't show any signs of homicidal mania."
"Ah. Well. Good. No pulling the wings off flies or anything?"
"Nope. Straight up guy all the way." Dr. Lin tilted her head to one side. "Does that help to set your mind at ease? You may know about guns, but our evaluation of your thought processes doesn't show us a man ready to use them to eliminate his fellow humans."
"I'm enormously comforted."
Dr. Lin leaned back. "Look, the fact that you're starting to make offhand connections in conversation is what's important here, not the material under discussion. Apparently your association with Ms. Solo is--er--stimulating something in your brain." She covered her mouth with one hand and stifled a chuckle. "Sorry, perhaps that was a poor choice of words."
John fought down a blush. "I understand what you're saying."
"Anyway, it's progress. Major progress. I'm very hopeful, John. This might just be the breakthrough we've been waiting for."
"I can sing, you know."
Dr. Lin blinked. "Oh?"
John told her of the brief moment when he'd finished the words to an old folk song Valli had begun.
"My goodness. I might have to increase the frequency of our sessions together." Dr. Lin looked almost excited. "The walls may be crumbling, John. At last. Thanks to Ms. Solo and her music."
John managed to restrain himself from pointing out that Ms. Valli Solo wasn't just music. She was also sunshine, perfume and a really hot body. She was someone he wanted all over him, around him, filling up his empty places while he filled hers.
No, that wasn't something he was about to admit to his shrink, kind though she was. Anything that happened between him and Valli on a personal level would stay that way. It was a given to his mind. He supposed that was part of the personality profile.
Doesn't seduce and tell.
Although how they could figure that out was beyond him. Since he hadn't, up to now, actually seduced anyone he could remember.
Oh God. I'm a reborn virgin. I wonder if she'll be gentle with me?
John didn't explain his sudden grin to Dr. Lin either.
Chapter Four
Valli left her French doors open to the night breeze. She loved this about northern California--the way the days could be hotter than fire, but as soon as the sun sank low and finally set, the air would turn soft and cool, blowing away the burn of the day.
She'd spent the long hours doing what she had come to rapidly accept as routine, a gentle workout at the gym, a rest, a healthy lunch--no fries--and some time on the guitar working out new ideas and jotting them down.
Email had been answered, not much, since most of it went to her web postmaster and from there to the people who dealt with fans and the business of being a performing artist. Her private address was just that--private. A few friends dropped her notes now and again, and those she answered, reassuring them she was well, feeling much better and looking forward to being back on stage.
Charlie had phoned while she was in the pool and left her a cute message--he and Marla were apparently having a great vacation and learning all there was to know about wine. Valli had chuckled as she'd listened to him. He was probably learning more about drinking it than how it was made, but hell. The man had worked his ass off for her over the years. They both deserved a break.
She'd also done something she hadn't done in quite some time--prepared herself for a "date". Just the usual girl stuff, shaving the legs, tweezing the brows, using that deluxe and expensive body lotion women tended to hoard for special occasions.
Valli found herself hoping this would merit the title special occasion as she stroked the light and silky cream into her skin. It had been quite some time since she'd indulged in a sexual relationship.
Her nose wrinkled as she thought back to Tree Maxwell. He of the cowboy hat, the scuffed boots and the song at the top of the country and western charts. It had probably been a mistake, all things considered, but they'd both been celebrating, the beer had flown freely and for the few weeks they'd toured together, they'd also slept together.
It must have been nearly two years ago. Valli blinked at herself in the bathroom mirror.That long? They'd parted amicably, he to record a new album, she to plan her next tour. No recriminations, no regrets. He'd been fun and passable as a lover. She'd had no inclination to beg him to stay, nor had she had any urge to move to welcome another man in her bed.
She'd been too busy most of the time to even think about it, and lately, she'd been too damn tired.
Now? She wasn't tired at all. And her entire body was alive, tingling with excitement, vividly aware that tonight it would get to do what a woman's body was built to do. Mate with a man.
And not just any man, either. A man who had exploded onto her horizon, dived into her head and somehow or other settled down like he belonged there, all within moments of their first meeting.
Restlessly, she watched the lights come on in the gardens, turning them into an almost magical world of subdued colors redolent with the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine. It was sensually beautiful and echoed her mood of slowly simmering desire.
As was her wont, Valli reached for her guitar.
"You touched your lips to mine..."
She closed her eyes and let her emotions write the lyrics as some other part of her brain urged her fingers into accompanying chords.
"And let me see your heart..." As always when she created a new song, the world around Valli disappeared.
"The light within it shines...mmm..." She frowned, strumming and seeking the melody along with the words. "And though I know we'll part...to this moment I'll be true..." She took a breath. "I will remember you."
Eyes closed, she ran through the chords again, experimenting with rhythms, hearing the addition of a bass and some drums in her mind. This wasn't a foot stompin' line dance type of song. No, this was a take-your-lover-in-your-arms-and-sway type of song.
It worked. The plaintive melody fell into place. Valli didn't need to write it down--once she hit that sweet spot and knew it was coming together, it was somehow embedded into her brain. She could recall every nuance, every phrase, whenever she needed it. It was, many said, a unique gift. To her it was just the way she did things.
Finally she breathed out a gust of air and opened her eyes--to see John standing just inside the French doors, watching her. He
held a rose in one hand.
"Eeek." She squeaked and blushed self-consciously. "How long have you been there?"
"An eternity." John's eyes were so blue as he gazed at her. "Or about five minutes in mortal time." He held out the rose. "Here. For you."
Valli smiled and stood, moving to him and taking the flower in her hand, sniffing appreciatively. "Mmm. Lovely. Can't remember the last time a man brought me a single rose." She looked up. "Thank you."
"There's more."
With the air of a magician and that perennial rabbit, John produced a bottle of wine from behind his back.
Valli's eyes widened. "I thought there was a no-alcohol rule."
"There is." John managed to look innocent and wicked at the same time, charming Valli's socks off. Or he would have if she was wearing any. "Apparently, our acquaintance has appealed to the romantic soul of a couple of the nurses. Carol tells me you prefer white wine--she whispered it as she smuggled this into my bathroom cabinet--and Susan told me you liked the roses."
"Ouch." Valli grimaced. "I suppose everybody knows you're here. Good lord. I should be used to it, but somehow I figured tonight was more private than that." She turned away in embarrassment.
John chuckled and followed her. "Don't worry. I think these folks are pretty discreet. And they have our best interests at heart. This isn't a surveillance wing, after all. I've been constantly reassured I'm not being monitored. And I doubt anyone would risk a lawsuit by putting hidden cameras in Valli Solo's room."
She sighed. "I hope not."
"Don't even think about it." John gestured to her guitar. "Play me something, Valli. What was it you were singing as I came in?"
"A new song. Something I was working on." She tilted her head toward the bathroom. "There are glasses in there if you want to pour some of that wine. I hope it's not corked. I don't have a corkscrew in my makeup bag."
"You don't? Tsk. And here I thought women were supposed to carry everything with 'em." His voice was muffled as he left the room and Valli heard the chink of glass against glass. Thank God for screw top bottles.
She couldn't help glancing up at the ceiling of her room, though. If there were cameras, where would they be? A blank surface met her gaze, with the merest ripple of stippled paint. No lumps, vents or other untoward signs of surveillance.
John was right, Valli knew. Tonight was for them. The rose and the wine were a lovely touch and Carol was just the sort of warm-hearted woman to arrange it. Valli doubted she'd do more than tease her a little the next time they met.
She picked up her guitar and sat down again as John settled himself next to her and put two glasses on the low coffee table. "That was a new song you heard and I haven't finished it yet. It's still in the germinating phase. But how about this one..."
Her fingers found the strings and she began with a few bars of one of her favorite classics. "Drink to me only with thine eyes--"
"And I will drink with mine..."
John gasped as he sang the next line. "Holy shit. I know that one."
Valli smiled encouragingly. "Let's try a few more."
For the next hour they worked their way through the bottle of wine and Valli's repertoire of standard folk songs. John knew many of them, especially the older ones, the melodies some musicians called hootenanny that had been born decades ago. He knew the tune to This Train is Bound For Glory, All My Trials and Green Grow the Lilacs. Gospel songs seemed to resonate, but when she tried some other genres, testing him with I'm a Rambler, I'm a Gambler and Tied up with a Black Velvet Band, he drew a blank.
"Interesting." Valli leaned her chin on her guitar and stared at him as his face betrayed his excitement and his confusion. "I'd say you probably grew up in the South. Most of the songs you know have their roots back in the days of slavery. And maybe even before."
"You're so lucky." John gazed at her. "To be able to create music is a gift, you know. To be able to sing these songs, to have that extraordinary sense of--of--direction when it comes to melodies? I'm in awe."
"It is a gift. Don't ever think I'm not grateful for it." Valli nodded. "And also for having the freedom to create my own songs, not just sing other people's."
"Freedom. Yeah. Just another word for nothing left to lose."
Valli blinked. "What?"
"Freedom. Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose, right?"
"Good God. Janis Joplin." Her skin chilled for a second, erupting with goosebumps. It couldn't be anything but coincidence. She calmed herself with a long breath, then strummed a few bars and began the song with the first verse. "Ring any bells?" She looked at John.
He frowned. "Something--maybe? Possibly?" The blue of his eyes dimmed as he struggled mentally--and failed. "Dammit."
Valli's heart twisted and she set the guitar down gently beside her. "John. Come here." She held out her hand.
John moved closer, taking the offered hand in his, wrapping his fingers around it and clinging tightly.
"Kiss me, John. Enough with other people's music. Let's make some of our own."
He smiled, pulling her into his arms. "Who's seducing who here?"
"Does it matter?"
"No."
----
She tasted of wine and sunlight and John could swear he heard music as he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her for the first time that night.
He wondered why he'd waited so long.
Melting into his embrace, Valli returned his kiss, her mouth opening to let his tongue inside. They shifted, moved closer, bodies touching now as well as lips. His hands roamed over her back, enjoying the warmth of her body through her light shirt and the sound her legs made as they slid across the fabric of the couch.
He felt as if he was coming alive, sensitive to everything in the room, everything that was Valli. Her breath dusted his face, her scent flooded his nostrils and her taste--that sweet intoxicating flavor went straight to his brain, then dived down to his groin, stiffening him into painful hardness.
She sighed into his mouth, pulling her face from his. "Not here. The bedroom. Please?"
Like she needed to ask. John stood immediately, ignoring his erection and the tent in his pants. Unwilling to let her go, he picked her up in his arms, liking the fragile weight of her as she nestled against him.
She chuckled a little, the movement of her breasts against him making him shiver.
"What?" He walked toward the darkened bedroom door.
"It's such a romantic thing to do. Pick me up and carry me. Nobody's ever done that before."
"Good." His hand wandered to her breast and he clasped it gently. "Let's see if we can find a few more things nobody's done to you before."
To his surprise, she covered his hand with her own and pressed his fingers into her softness. "I like that, John. For the record, I have sensitive breasts. Very sensitive..."
John groaned and thanked God they were next to her bed. He tumbled them down, keeping his hand where it was and managing not to land on top of her, although the urge to do just that was overwhelming.
"Duly noted. Just keep telling me things like that. I'm a blank slate, remember?" His fingers slipped beneath her loose top to her naked breasts and he caressed them. "I need to know if I'm doing the right thing or missing any steps here."
She arched beneath him with a little whimper as he found her nipples and began teasing them with his fingertips. "Yeah, sure--uh--what?"
"I'm glad you're not wearing a bra." He stripped off her shirt and replaced his fingers with his mouth. "Makes life a lot easier."
There was no answer, just a moan as his lips sought one puckered bud and began to suckle. He licked and teased, tasting her breasts, nipping, then licking again as she moved restlessly beneath his questing mouth.
"Jesus, John..."
Not missing a beat, John's hand slid inside her shorts to her panties, pushing them aside as he delved between her thighs. She was hot and wet, her moisture dampening his hand as he stroked her gently, all the w
hile continuing to suck and tease her nipples.
Her hips moved slowly, then more quickly as he learned her contours and found the places that made her breath come rapidly and her throat choke out tiny whimpers of pleasure.
"Christ...I'm..."
Valli croaked out the word as John pressed gently against her most sensitive places, then slid a finger inside her heat. Her breasts were heaving, his lips were pulling hard on a nipple and as he added another finger to keep the pressure steady, she exploded around him.
She cried out and tensed, her body trembling and shuddering, her muscles clenching in fierce spasms as she came, shocking John to his core as he felt her orgasm drag him along, hot waves of completion rolling from his fingers all the way into his soul.
He gentled her, soothing her as he drew his fingers from her body and slid her clothing off her limp limbs.
"Oh my God." She sighed the words, lying boneless beside him. "John, that was--damn, I went off like a rocket. I'm sorry."
He chuckled and slipped out of his own clothes. "Don't apologize. It was beautiful." He settled against her, enjoying the warmth of her skin and the scent of her sex on his hand. "One down. Seventeen to go."
She stiffened. "Huh?"
"The night is young. We've only just begun."
Valli lifted a hand and stroked his face. "That's a song too, you know."
"Is it?" He answered absently, being too busy learning her curves and softness all over again. The textures of her skin fascinated him.
Then her hands began their own voyage of discovery and she lifted herself up, pushing him onto his back. "My turn."
----
He was all heat and muscle, skin that burned her fingers as she roamed his body. His chest was a thing of beauty, flat nipples hardening as she delicately flicked them, then licked and kissed them, smiling a little to herself at his resultant moan. The little hairs that dappled his skin tickled her nose as she slithered downward, running her fingernails across the dips and rises she found along the way.
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