Sacred geometry connection to music theory?
Nothing invasive or tabloid-worthy.
“Keep it.” I hand the notebook back, and something in me shifts, like a door cracking open that’s been sealed for years. “Forget it. How about we pour a little more Champagne and start over?”
She nods, relief flooding her features.
As I turn to get the wine, I feel strangely exposed. Not because she saw my books, but instead because for a moment, I let her see me.
Not Slayer.
Just Sam. That terrifies me more than any tabloid ever could.
CHAPTER 8
BIX
Ahalf hour later, I sit on the sofa, listening to Sam tell stories about his bartender days. I feel so light and at ease in his company.
“Another bottle of Champagne, or do you want to try that rosé I told you about?” His voice drops to a lower register that thrills me.
“Since you told such a beautiful story about it, let it pour.” I nearly wince as I hear the flirtation in my voice. I’m not usually the flirting type. That was Hilary’s specialty.
Sam moves to the wine wall dividing the room, his confident movements hypnotic. Even something as simple as selecting a bottle, he does with precision and focus.
“You certainly know your craft. Back when you were a bartender, bet you gave the ladies an extra olive in their dirty martinis.”
He nods. “You bet. But what got me the big tips was the way I handled the cocktail shaker.”
I laugh as he pantomimes shaking his hips with an imaginary cocktail shaker above his head. “I like a man who knows how to handle his equipment.”
I lean back into the buttery-soft white leather sofa, stealing aglance through the window at the tall, skinny high rises shooting into the night sky.What would it be like to live in such a place?Pretty good, I imagine.
Sam reaches into a cabinet for different glasses and brings them over.
“These flutes aren’t good enough?” I ask.
“It’s not the right shape.” He demonstrates with his hands. “These have open lips that allow the aroma to penetrate more freely.”
Open lips? Penetrate?This wine talk is getting me hot…making me think about what could happen once this bottle is finished.
I watch Sam move across the room. Those broad shoulders, the way his jeans fit... My mind wanders to places it shouldn’t. Heat rises in my cheeks.
Sam glances my way as he settles beside me on the sofa, dark eyes flashing. A slow smile spreads across his face. He looks like he’s reading my thoughts.
I feel a tingling sensation in my core. I haven’t been waiting until marriage to lose my virginity. But the right guy has never come along.
Until tonight.
Thank God I wore nice underwear.
I lift the glass to my lips…
“Not yet,” he says, his commanding voice carrying the same edge it had when he found me with his books.
But now his domineering tone sends a different kind of vibration through my body.
“Take your time with it,” he encourages. That slow smile spreads across his face again.
