A Reckless Note

Chapter Six

What is happening to me?

I'm melting like butter from having this man's arm around me.

I tell myself that my intense reaction to Kace is simply that I haven't been touched in a very long time. And I'm alone right now, so very alone. Gio is gone. My rock is gone. And Kace came into my life at just the right moment to stir a fierce reaction. That's all this is.

To prove this fact to myself, I try to focus on something other than his body warming mine, like his car—a fancy blue sports car, that I'm pretty sure is a Roadster, which I only know because I had a rich classmate in college who drove his father's on occasion. They're outrageously expensive, but then, Kace has money. Of course, he does. He's a Grammy award-winning artist. He tours the world. He has fame, and millions of albums sold. He has women falling at his feet and I don't intend to be one of them.

He clicks his locks and when his arm leaves my shoulders, the absence of his touch is a shock that sends a chill radiating down my spine. He opens the passenger door for me. "You don't have to do this," I say.

He steps closer and Lord help me, I want him even closer. "I want to do this," he says softly.

Want.

That word was in my head and now it's on his lips.

I hesitate, but I don't know why. I know that I'm not going to say no and so does he. To play a game of yes or no is silly. I climb inside, sinking into the luxury of the car and the leather seat. He surprises me by kneeling beside me. "Where are we going?"

That question jolts me. I don't live in a neighborhood that suggests I have clients capable of bidding on a ten-million-dollar violin. I rotate to get out of the car, but that's a mistake because Kace is not eye level. "What just happened?" he asks, and his hands, his musically talented hands, rest on his powerful thighs. I find those hands incredibly alluring.

I'm not only drowning in everything seductive about this man, I'm captive to the façade of money. No, I'm captive to lies. Lies have held me prisoner my entire life, and I just can't add another. My gaze lifts to his. "I don't live in Tribeca or Soho, or whatever fancy neighborhood you live in, Kace. I live in the West Village."

"I happen to love the West Village. It has personality."

"I should take an Uber."

He holds out his hand to me. "Nice to meet you. I'm your Uber."

I laugh in spite of myself and accept his hand, heat darting up my arm and across my chest. "You're—"

He kisses my hand and steals my breath and words. "I'm what?"

I have no idea what I was going to say and I'm not getting out of this ride. "You're stubborn, but I'd appreciate the ride."

His eyes light with approval that I ache for far too much. I'm afraid he'll see this in my eyes, afraid I'm just reacting to being alone and him sharing a connection to my past that I desperately need right now. I turn and slide back into the seat. He shuts me inside the car and I pull on my seatbelt that feels necessary to navigate my life right about now. He joins me and settles in. "Where are we going?"

I give him the address and he revs the engine, power purring to a smooth hum. "Is this a Roadster?" I ask.

"It is. You like it?" He pulls us onto the road.

I run my hand over the dash. "It's a beautiful car. A beast like your violin."

He laughs. "I've never thought of my violin as a beast, but I like that analogy. A beast with a life of its own."