Behind the Curtain - Page 39

“You mean recordings of some of the singers and bands you like?”

“I brought those too. But I meant that I brought some of the music and lyrics I’ve written myself.”

He walked in front of her and stopped. She halted in front of him.

“They’re back at the house?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling nervously. “In my purse.”

“Those prized notebooks that you’ve never shown anyone before?” he clarified. A small grin tilted his mouth. She realized he looked tremendously pleased. It made her heart start to drum in her ears. He reached up and moved a lock of her hair away from her face, smoothing it against her shoulder. She shivered beneath his touch, feeling the heat of his fingers beneath the thin beach cover-up she wore. He felt her tremble. She could tell by the sudden smoldering quality in his eyes.

“That’s right. Not another soul. Until you,” she managed to say.

“I’m honored.”

She pulled a face. “Don’t say that until you’ve actually seen them. You might decide you’re cursed. They’re probably horrible.”

“They won’t be,” he said. His finger caressed the side of her neck. The tiny, fine hairs on her nape and ears prickled at his touch.

“I don’t know how you could possibly say that with so much certainly,” she told him frankly.

“I don’t either,” he mused, sounding genuinely puzzled. His lips brushed hers. Their mouths rubbed together, clung and parted. “But I do,” he whispered, before he pulled her against him, and their mouths fused.

Laila knew she’d always remember that kiss: Asher, the doubts of the dying day and the promise of tomorrow, all of it mingling to form a fragile, perfect moment.

They stayed on the beach for a while, walking and talking until they stood beneath a midnight dome sprinkled with thousands of stars. He told her why he’d always dreamed of becoming a foreign correspondent. “I want to learn about different people and cultures. I don’t want to just read about history, or watch it pass by while I sit on the sidelines. I want to be on that boat. I want to witness it firsthand.”

“You’re not scared? Of going to strange countries and not knowing anyone? Of not even understanding the customs or the language?”

“A little,” he admitted. “But that’s part of the challenge. You can’t open up your world and learn anything new without stepping into unfamiliar territory. That’s how you know you’re growing, when things g

et a little uncomfortable.”

She thought of how nervous she’d been on her first day of class at Wayne State, and she hadn’t even had to worry about moving onto campus.

“I guess I’m a coward,” she said softly.

He ran his fingertip up and down her arm until she shivered in awareness.

“You’re not a coward. You brought your music tonight, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“I know how hard that must have been, when you always keep it so private. Let’s go inside. I want to see it. Hear it.”

When they returned to the terrace, Zara and Eric were gone.

“Where’s Zara?” Laila asked Tahi.

Both Rudy and Tahi pointed toward the house in the direction of the upper floor, wry expressions on their face. Laila knew they were referring to one of the bedrooms. Heat rushed into her cheeks. She felt a little nauseated. Zara and Eric weren’t Asher and her. Still, their progressing intimacy—their obvious sexual chemistry—created some type of parallel to Asher and her. While she worried about both Zara and herself getting hurt, she craved closeness with Asher even more.

It stunned her to realize that was where her slight nausea originated. It came from acknowledging and confronting that need head-on.

Asher put his hand at the small of her back and moved his head in the direction of the house. She nodded in agreement. They walked inside together. She was highly aware of Tahi’s and the guys’ speculative stares on their backs.

Laila grabbed her bag. Asher took her hand and started up the stairs.

God, where was he taking her? A bedroom? She felt a little dizzy and weak in the knees. When he led her into a room and turned on several lamps, she sighed in mixed disappointment and relief. They were in a pretty sitting room with feminine, elegant décor. He waved toward a large bay window where a baby grand stood.

Tags: Beth Kery Erotic
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