Read Online Express Male by Elizabeth Bevarly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Bevarly
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more—about her.
He shifted his attention to Gestalt. “This better work,” he muttered. “And it better work fast. I need She-Wolf back.”
CHAPTER FIVE
I N HER DREAM , Marnie was playing the Polonaise in an empty Carnegie Hall, her passion and love for the music swelling inside her, flowing out through her fingertips and into the cavernous room. As she completed the final stanza, she dropped her head and let her hands fall from the keys into her lap. But when solitary applause erupted, she snapped her head up again.
Not an empty auditorium after all. A lone, tuxedoed gentleman sat center stage in the front row, his crisp white shirt and tie a direct contrast to the black cut of his jacket and trousers. His dark-blond hair was swept straight back from his face, giving more prominence to his blue, blue eyes, his finely sculpted cheekbones, his full, sexy mouth. Marnie’s own lips parted in surprise at seeing him and her heart hammered hard in her chest. But she said nothing.
He stood silently, moved fluidly to the end of the stage where steps appeared, climbed them with clear intention. She remained seated on the bench as he approached from stage right, her mouth going dry at the sight of him, her pulse racing faster with every step he took. Her dream self remembered now that he had attended all her performances, always seated in the same place, watching her with a hazy half smile playing about his lips. He always seemed to enjoy the music—or something—but not once had he applauded with the rest of the audience. Only tonight, when he was alone.
Now he strode toward her with that same half smile curving the corners of his mouth. When he drew close enough, he reached for her and Marnie stood, hooking her fingers over his, thinking he meant to walk her off the stage. But he twined their fingers more tightly together and kept coming toward her, pulling her to himself, sweeping her into his arms and covering her mouth with his, completely and with utter possession.
She gasped as her head jerked off her arm. She felt the cool metal table beneath her hand, blinked at the bright light overhead. She’d dozed off, she realized. She’d been dreaming. But when she turned her head toward the door, she saw the man from the empty auditorium standing there, as if he’d exited her dream with her. Instead of a tuxedo, he wore the dark suit in which she’d last seen him. And instead of the slicked-back, Rudolph Valentino hairstyle, his dark-blond tresses were dry. But they were creased and untidy, as if he’d been running his fingers restlessly through them. The swelling had gone down on his lip some, and the abrasion on his face had faded to a less angry red smudged by a faint bruise. In spite of the injuries, his was still a very compelling face.
How long had she been asleep? she wondered, pushing the thought away. What time was it? When she looked at her watch, she saw that nearly seven and a half hours had passed since her shift had ended at Lauderdale’s. Would that she had dreamed everything that had happened since then, she’d be waking up in her own bed this morning, readying herself for another day’s work.
Straightening in her chair, she met faux Randy’s gaze and asked, “So what’s your code name? I mean, I have a few I could use for you, but none of them is worth uttering in polite society. Then again, the society I’ve experienced tonight has been anything but polite.”
“I owe you an apology, Ms. Lundy,” he said, addressing her by her real name. And in an amazingly courteous voice, too. She wasn’t sure which surprised her more.
“Yeah, I’ll say you do,” she retorted before she could stop herself. Reminding herself that snarkiness wasn’t going to get her home any faster, she gentled her tone some before adding, “What brings on this sudden change of heart?”
He left the door open as he approached the table, something he hadn’t done all night. “We ran a check on your name,” he
He shifted his attention to Gestalt. “This better work,” he muttered. “And it better work fast. I need She-Wolf back.”
CHAPTER FIVE
I N HER DREAM , Marnie was playing the Polonaise in an empty Carnegie Hall, her passion and love for the music swelling inside her, flowing out through her fingertips and into the cavernous room. As she completed the final stanza, she dropped her head and let her hands fall from the keys into her lap. But when solitary applause erupted, she snapped her head up again.
Not an empty auditorium after all. A lone, tuxedoed gentleman sat center stage in the front row, his crisp white shirt and tie a direct contrast to the black cut of his jacket and trousers. His dark-blond hair was swept straight back from his face, giving more prominence to his blue, blue eyes, his finely sculpted cheekbones, his full, sexy mouth. Marnie’s own lips parted in surprise at seeing him and her heart hammered hard in her chest. But she said nothing.
He stood silently, moved fluidly to the end of the stage where steps appeared, climbed them with clear intention. She remained seated on the bench as he approached from stage right, her mouth going dry at the sight of him, her pulse racing faster with every step he took. Her dream self remembered now that he had attended all her performances, always seated in the same place, watching her with a hazy half smile playing about his lips. He always seemed to enjoy the music—or something—but not once had he applauded with the rest of the audience. Only tonight, when he was alone.
Now he strode toward her with that same half smile curving the corners of his mouth. When he drew close enough, he reached for her and Marnie stood, hooking her fingers over his, thinking he meant to walk her off the stage. But he twined their fingers more tightly together and kept coming toward her, pulling her to himself, sweeping her into his arms and covering her mouth with his, completely and with utter possession.
She gasped as her head jerked off her arm. She felt the cool metal table beneath her hand, blinked at the bright light overhead. She’d dozed off, she realized. She’d been dreaming. But when she turned her head toward the door, she saw the man from the empty auditorium standing there, as if he’d exited her dream with her. Instead of a tuxedo, he wore the dark suit in which she’d last seen him. And instead of the slicked-back, Rudolph Valentino hairstyle, his dark-blond tresses were dry. But they were creased and untidy, as if he’d been running his fingers restlessly through them. The swelling had gone down on his lip some, and the abrasion on his face had faded to a less angry red smudged by a faint bruise. In spite of the injuries, his was still a very compelling face.
How long had she been asleep? she wondered, pushing the thought away. What time was it? When she looked at her watch, she saw that nearly seven and a half hours had passed since her shift had ended at Lauderdale’s. Would that she had dreamed everything that had happened since then, she’d be waking up in her own bed this morning, readying herself for another day’s work.
Straightening in her chair, she met faux Randy’s gaze and asked, “So what’s your code name? I mean, I have a few I could use for you, but none of them is worth uttering in polite society. Then again, the society I’ve experienced tonight has been anything but polite.”
“I owe you an apology, Ms. Lundy,” he said, addressing her by her real name. And in an amazingly courteous voice, too. She wasn’t sure which surprised her more.
“Yeah, I’ll say you do,” she retorted before she could stop herself. Reminding herself that snarkiness wasn’t going to get her home any faster, she gentled her tone some before adding, “What brings on this sudden change of heart?”
He left the door open as he approached the table, something he hadn’t done all night. “We ran a check on your name,” he
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