Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Beat hit the button for the elevator and the doors flew open, already waiting for the prince to require its use. They stepped in with Joseph and remained in silence for ten full seconds, before Beat asked gruffly, “Do you ever go on dates with other people?”
“Mmm. I have.” His fingers jolted around hers. Did he have a fear of elevators? She’d talk him through it. “I even had a four-month relationship once. But my mother was coming to town for my birthday, and I started to see my boyfriend through her eyes, wondering what she would think when she arrived. That’s when I realized it wasn’t working. We weren’t compatible and I just needed to step back and look to see it. Or admit it, I guess.” Beat still looked tense, so Melody sucked in a deep breath and kept going. “Have you been in many relationships?”
“No.” He gave her a tight smile that never reached his eyes. “None.”
“None?” She could even sense Joseph’s bafflement from the other side of the elevator. If Beat was a workaholic bachelor type with a personality defect, she could see him remaining relationship free, simply hooking up when the mood struck him. But Beat was sensitive, a good listener, gorgeous. If he crossed paths with a woman worth her salt, which he must have done hundreds of times, he would consider her, not disregard her. How was this possible? “But you have so many boyfriendly qualities.”
His laughter was brief. “I like being single, Mel.”
The elevator doors opened and Melody faced forward quickly. Did she secretly, deep down enjoy knowing that Beat had never been in a serious relationship?
Maybe. Just a little. But not enough to keep her from wondering—and worrying—what might have prevented it.
Chapter Nine
They walked out of the building hand in hand and Beat squinted into the fading winter sunlight. Bells jingled somewhere in the distance. The lights strung between lampposts on the avenue were flickering on for the evening, casting the sidewalk in a muted glow. Cinnamon and sugar hung in the air, courtesy of the bakery across the street. There was something about holding Melody’s hand while surrounded with Christmas nostalgia that forced Beat to slow his step, experience it a little longer.
Or maybe he was just stalling.
An SUV idled at the curb, waiting to take them to the gala, where they would pose the possibility of a reunion to his mother. On camera. In all likelihood, the show could be done before it started. What would he do about the money then?
Melody squeezed his hand and smiled at him, like she knew his thoughts had taken a troubling turn. Christ, she looked beautiful. Soft and sexy, like a classic movie star who’d stepped straight off the screen. That gown hugged her in places he was doing his best not to notice, but obliviousness would be extraimpossible tonight. At least, for the moment, she was wearing a coat to cover the pale swells of her tits. The neat curve of waist into hips where he wanted to plant his hands and mold her. Examine her. Feel her.
His growing attraction to Melody was the exact last thing Beat needed right now on top of everything else. They were on camera; their every move was being documented. His blackmailer wouldn’t stop leaving messages. His mother might disown him by the time the night was over—and all he could think about was using his teeth to rip down the front of Melody’s dress.
“It’s going to be fine.” She inflated one of her cheeks with air and slowly let it out, so endearing his throat tightened up. “What kind of food is going to be at this party?”
“I have no idea,” he said softly.
“I thought you said you organized this gala.”
He tugged her in the direction of the SUV, Joseph walking backward in front of Beat and Melody to keep them in the camera’s sights. “I’m more of the big-picture guy.”
“You tell people the vision and they make it happen.”
“Correct.”
She laughed. “I’m sure it’s slightly more complicated than that. I’ve followed the progress of Octavia’s Ovations over the years. It’s incredible—the way the foundation finds talented kids without a lot of resources, plucks them out like diamonds in the rough and installs them in Juilliard or some other amazing performing arts school. One of the Ovations kids performed the national anthem at the Super Bowl last year, right? I mean, they never fail to blow everyone away. Whoever is selecting those kids must have sharp intuition.”
Beat helped Melody into the middle seat of the SUV, scrutinizing her face as she passed, trying to determine what she knew. But he didn’t have to study her too closely, because she wasn’t hiding anything. It was all right there on her face. “You’re . . . aware it’s me that does the selections?”