Tie Me (One Night with Sole Regret 5)
Page 4“I haven’t named it because I haven’t finished it. Do you really like it?” she asked. “I was about to scrap it and start over.”
“Don’t do that,” he said. “It’s amazing. You composed it?”
“I’m trying to. It just isn’t cooperating with me.”
The lights flickered as another bolt of lightning snaked from the clouds to the ground. Dawn glanced at the open front door with longing. Neptune might not mind being caught in the storm, but she wasn’t so hardy. The skirt of her dress whipped around her legs in the gusting wind. She hugged her arms around her body for warmth and started to creep back toward the threshold.
“Sorry for taking up your time,” he said. “I’ll just go… home.”
Something about the way he said home made her heart twist.
“Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?” she asked accidentally. Sometimes her impulsive mouth said stuff she immediately regretted. She wasn’t sure if she regretted this particular outburst or not. Maybe if he accepted, she’d wish she’d gone mute. But if he refused, she knew she’d be bummed.
He bit his lip and stared at her with the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. She could drown in those eyes and wouldn’t even fight sure death.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She hesitated as they stared each other down. “Turn around first.”
He lifted a slim, black eyebrow at her, but turned slowly, arms extended at his sides, to show her his back (and perfect ass). An amazing tattoo covered the left side of his back and shoulder. The black-and-gray-toned rearing stallion looked so realistic, she half expected it to kick her with one of its flailing hooves. Even the feathers braided into the horse’s mane seemed to be dancing on the breeze.
“I assure you,” he said, “I’m not an ax murderer. Or any kind of violent criminal.”
“Yeah? That’s what all the soaking wet, ax-wielding, violent criminals say.”
A corner of his sensual mouth turned up, and he traced one eyebrow with a fingertip. “I can only imagine what you must think of me, standing outside your house in a storm. I swear it was your pretty song that drew me to your window.” His smile widened, softening his strong features, and every shred of Dawn’s apprehension vanished. “What kind of soaking wet, ax-wielding, violent criminal would admit to that?”
She offered him a return smile and stepped into the house. “Come in. You must be freezing.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I’m okay. The cold doesn’t bother me.”
“Then you must not be from around here,” she said. She’d only been in Texas for a few months and had already acclimated to the warm climate. Sixty degrees felt cold to her these days.
“Not from Galveston, no. I’m from just outside Austin—born and raised.”
“Then you must be naturally hot-blooded.”
Her Neptune chuckled. “Maybe a little.”
He entered the house and stepped to the side while she closed the door. Water dripped from his body and left quite a puddle on the tile floor.
“I don’t usually make such an ass of myself,” he said, and then chuckled. “I leave that to Owen.”
“Owen?” she called as she hurried toward the hall closet, which held a stock of beach towels.
“Friend of mine.”
“Is he a god too?”
“A god?”
“You’re Neptune, right?” she asked. “Lord of the sea who washed up on the beach during the storm? Do you perform miracles? Because I could use a couple of them tonight.”
He laughed again and took a towel from her to dry his straight, black hair. It was a bit longer than shoulder length and dripping water down the hard contours of his chest and belly. Dawn dropped a second towel on the floor to collect his puddle and forced herself not to gawk at his body.
“Sorry to disappoint you—I’m not a god. Just a man who sometimes loses his way.”
“I’m trying to get you to reveal your name without asking directly,” she said to his thighs as she squatted to collect more water.
“I seem to have misplaced my manners,” he said, drying his chest and arms. “I’m Kellen Jamison. And you are?”
“Your name sounds familiar.” Gnawing on his fingertip, he examined her face thoroughly.
“I’m sure there are plenty of people who share my name.”
His eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers. “But not any other Grammy-winning composers. You wrote the music that won for best movie theme song last year. Am I right?”
She flushed. He knew who she was? No one knew who she was. Well, a few people knew who she was, but composers didn’t have fans. Pop stars had fans.
“It was actually the award for Best Instrumental Composition, but yeah, one of my works happens to accompany the rolling credits of a certain blockbuster movie. How do you know who I am?” Her suspicions were coming to a head again. Maybe he was one of those creepy stalkers who saw someone on TV and trailed them to the ends of the earth. Except no one knew she was here but her family, closest friends, and her agent. It wasn’t public knowledge that she’d rented this beach house for a couple of months, hoping to spark her creativity. After her Grammy, several producers had contacted her to write music for them and like the star-struck novice that she was, she’d accepted every job that had come her way. Big mistake. Huge! Apparently her creativity was completely quashed by any sort of pressure or expectation.
“I saw you accept your award,” Kellen said. “I don’t remember your speech, but I remember your beautiful hair.”
She touched a hand to her waist-length red curls. They were all sorts of frizzy due to the humidity in the air, but on Grammy night, the hairdresser had managed to make the loose curls smooth and elegant. “You saw me on TV?” She was pretty sure everyone in America had taken a bathroom break when she’d started thanking every person she’d ever met and even a few she hadn’t.