Read Online More Than You Know by Jennifer Gracen - Free Book Online Page A

“Why’d you name this hotel the Alexandra?”
    His smile was tinged with affection as he said, “It’s my sister’s middle name.”
    Something tugged at Julia’s heart. She smiled back. “That’s . . . sweet. You’re close with her, then?”
    â€œVery. Tess is the best. I’ll introduce you to her at the hotel opening.” Dane turned and led her down another hallway. She took the moment to quickly check out his ass, which was a very nice one indeed.
    The Alexandra Bar & Lounge had wide glass doors, hinting at the darker lair beyond. She stopped in her tracks. Beside the entrance was a blown-up photo on a stand, one of her publicity shots, announcing her as the main act inside. She stared at it. It was so . . . professional. Glitzy. Polished. For a second, she felt like a star. And dammit, it felt good.
    â€œYou approve?” Dane asked from behind her.
    â€œYes.” She could feel him watching her, taking in her reactions. Nodding, she said, “It’s nice. I like the shot you chose.”
    â€œIt was hard to choose,” he said, his deep voice warm, just above her ear. Even in her three-inch wedge sandals, he towered over her. “All the shots were good. Seriously. The camera loves you.” She looked up at him, and though he wore an easy grin, his eyes glittered at her with a hint of sin. “And that’s more than a ‘nice’ shot, Julia. It’s gorgeous. Just like you.”
    â€œThank you,” she said demurely. He stood close enough that the faintest scent of his cologne teased her, sparking new fires in her body. Slightly spicy, it wasn’t overpowering, it was just a hint—just enough to make everything tingle with desire.
    â€œCome on inside.” He opened one of the doors and ushered her in.
    Her breath caught. This place was fabulous. Modern, stylish, and cool. Little round tables with curved-back chairs dotted the front of the room, the lounge area. Then there was more open floor space by the bar, and along the back wall, six deep, cozy booths, with seats covered in dark brown leather. Julia followed Dane farther into the room. Low lighting from funky fixtures above illuminated the room, except for the bar itself—eight or ten shelves held every kind of top liquor there was, backlit against mirrors. And at the front of the lounge area was what would be her domain: a small rectangular stage, not too highly elevated, to promote some intimacy with the audience. It was mostly filled by a black Steinway piano.
    â€œYou like it?” Dane asked casually, peering at her.
    â€œYes, I do,” she said, understating it by a mile. It was amazing. She already loved it. She could imagine what it would be like when filled, crackling with lively late-night energy. A respectable, upscale place, a place to be proud to sing in, with Kelvin at her back . . . it was going to be very enjoyable indeed to work here. “How many does the lounge hold?”
    â€œA hundred. And room for over a hundred more in the bar.”
    She nodded and stepped up to the stage, turned to face the room, and took in the view from her vantage point. She felt like she’d just stepped up on an Olympic podium to accept a gold medal. “Nice.” Her eyes flickered to Dane. “The aesthetics are great, but how are the acoustics?”
    He frowned. “Not sure what you mean.”
    â€œYou don’t have a mic here, do you?”
    â€œIt’s somewhere in the back. I can go look for it if you like,” he offered.
    â€œNot necessary.” She swallowed to clear and wet her throat, drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and started to sing.
    Dane stood mesmerized as Julia belted out two lines from a song he didn’t know. Her voice was full, rich, and dazzling. He’d heard her sing before, of course. But watching her up onstage alone, singing without accompaniment and hitting every note right on target, with