Read Online Lost Melody by Roz Lee - Free Book Online

wanted to see him again. Despite everything, she was still
attracted to him, to his rich voice, his quirky smile, his nerdy
haircut.
    Somewhere around milepost twenty-nine,
she had made up her mind to see this assignment through, but her
first glimpse of him made her rethink her decision. He held the
screen door for her, looking too damned good, too damned sexy, and
too damned pleased with himself. He might as well have had a
flashing neon sign on his head—Danger! Unreliable, narcissistic
heartbreaker ahead!
    She stepped into the kitchen, all too
aware of his size as she brushed past him in the narrow doorway. He
snared one of the insulated cups from her as she passed. “Is this
for me?”
    Ignoring him, she popped her hot
chocolate into the microwave, her fingers punctuating her mood as
she stabbed at the buttons. The dog ambled into the room from parts
unknown and sniffed at the back of her leg.
    “Leave her alone, Betty.” Hank steered
his four-legged friend in the other direction.
    She opened cabinets until
she found a plate and dumped the contents of the bag onto it. The
dish made a satisfying thunk when she dropped it in the middle of the table. An
old-fashioned style doughnut bounced off and rolled to the floor.
Betty Boop pounced on it, disappearing with the purloined
treat.
    “I brought doughnuts.” She removed her
hot chocolate from the microwave, hyper aware of the man leaning
against the refrigerator watching her every move. “Today is the one
and only time I’ll do it for the duration of our
project.”
    She took a seat and rummaged through
her purse for her voice recorder. She slammed it down with enough
force to rouse the dog from under the table—probably hoping to
catch more flying pastries. Hank took the seat next to hers. She
scooted her chair back until her thigh bumped the table leg. “I
don’t take notes. If you have a problem with being recorded, speak
up now.”
    “You can record anything you want,
except my music. I have contractual obligations regarding my
creative process. I’m sure you understand, Melody.”
    She faltered. Coincidence. A lucky guess. That’s all it
was. Her tongue felt like sandpaper, but
she managed to force words out. “My name is Mel.”
    “If you say so, Ms.
Ravenswood.”
    Oh God. Her heart raced. Her vision blurred, and her
throat closed. A black fog swam through her mind, threatening to
take her under. She couldn’t breathe. She’d had panic attacks
before, but that didn’t make this one any less frightening. She had
to get out, away. Why hadn’t she listened to her instincts earlier?
She stumbled to her feet. Trembling legs miraculously carried her
to the door.
    He stood and moved in her direction.
As she gripped the doorframe, she raised her hand to fend him off.
She sucked in the fresh air wafting through the screen door. Oxygen
flooded her system.
    “Are you okay?” he asked. “Can I get
you anything?”
    “Leave. Me. Alone.” Beyond the
screened door, wide-open spaces promised relief. “I have to go.”
She flattened her palm against the cool wire mesh.
    “Please,” he begged. “Don’t go. I
won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
    All she had to do was push
and the screened door would open. Escape was that close. She gazed
longingly at the quiet vista beyond. Her brain told her to run, to
get as far away from Hank as she could, but her limbs betrayed her.
Telling Cathy had been easy, maybe because it was her decision and
she trusted her friend to keep her confidence. But being found out
by a virtual stranger was different. It was what she lived in fear
of every day—that someone, everyone, would discover her secret,
and the peace she’d constructed with such care would
shatter.
    He knew and soon everyone in
Willowbrook would know, too. She would have to leave, find another
place to live, reinvent herself all over again.
    “How did you find out?” she asked,
envying the nondescript sparrow pecking at something in the grass
outside, able to