Rhythms of Love Page 5

  “Now who’s a mess?”

  He shot her a dazzling smile before glancing down at his watch. “I should get moving so you can go to bed.”

  Reggie hadn’t expected to have such a nice time. “Thanks for understanding where I’m at.”

  “No problem, but like I said, this ain’t over.”

  She got the sense that he was enjoying the challenge. “If you say so.”

  “I do.” He drained the last of his coffee and took out his phone to call his driver.

  Jamal wasn’t anxious to end the evening. Watching her, he wanted to sit in her cozy little kitchen with his pie and coffee and talk to her until sunrise. He’d learned a bit more about her tonight, so he supposed he’d have to be content with that.

  While he made his call, Reggie checked him out. Instead of the usual black he was wearing gray. On his wrist was an elaborately carved silver bracelet with a huge blue sapphire in its center. The handsome face hadn’t changed, though. The thin razor cuts that ran from his jaws down to the well-groomed hair on his chin gave his dark face just a hint of danger. Everything about him was enough to make a woman pant.

  When he ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket, she got to her feet. “I’ll get your coat.”

  “Thanks.”

  More aware of his presence than she’d ever been of any man, she didn’t have to turn and look to know that he was following; she could feel his heat. She wondered if he could feel hers.

  She suspected he could.

  Opening the small closet by the front door, she withdrew his coat, a black wool topper, and handed it over.

  He voiced his thanks as he put it on and did up some of the buttons. Once he was done, he stood silently for a moment watching her. That drowning sensation rolled over her again, but this time she didn’t look away. “Thanks for not pressuring me. It was nice meeting you.” The thought of him leaving for L.A. tomorrow and maybe never seeing him again left her with a strange sense of longing.

  “Even nicer meeting you.”

  A car horn blew outside.

  “That’s my driver.”

  She opened the door. Wind-whipped snow could be seen through the frosty panes of the storm door. “Have a safe trip back.”

  He handed her another one of his cards. “Keep this one, okay? No trashing allowed.”

  She gave him an embarrassed smile. “Okay.”

  For a long moment they fed visually on each other, then he leaned down and pressed a soft parting kiss against her forehead. “Stay sweet,” he whispered. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Before she could recover, he was gone. Dazed, she closed the door and leaned back against it. Her fingers touched the sweet sting left by his kiss. Her whole body felt warm, opened. If just that brief brush of his lips could deliver such a wallop, she couldn’t imagine what kind of fireworks his hands must set off. Good Lord. She was so stunned she was still standing that way when her grandmother came down the stairs a few minutes later.

  “Are you okay?”

  Reggie shook herself free and felt her brain come back to life. “I think so.”

  “You look a little rocked.”

  “Does it show?”

  Her grandmother chuckled. “He is nice, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “A girl could do worse.”

  “Yeah, but not a girl like me. He’s probably got a harem full of women back home.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Cinderella. I saw the way he was watching you at the table. He’s interested.”

  “Yeah, but in what? Probably just wants to put my mop on his wall with the rest of his bedroom trophies.”

  Her grandmother laughed.

  “I’m going to bed,” Reggie declared.

  “And I’m coming down to watch some TV.”

  They met at the bottom of the steps and shared a hug.

  Crystal whispered, “I love you, baby. Think about what he’s offering.”

  “I love you more. I told him I would and I will. I promise.”

  The embrace ended.

  Reggie gave her grandmother a mock warning. “And don’t stay up too late, missy. You need your beauty sleep.”

  “I’ll be up right after the late-night, dirty movie on Skinamax.”

  A chuckling Reggie climbed the stairs shaking her head.

  Sleep was long in coming. Jamal Reynolds filled Reggie’s mind. When she finally did drift off, his whispery voice telling her to “stay sweet” was the last thing she remembered.

  In the dream, Reggie and Trina were climbing a mountain in a swirling, blinding snowstorm. Trina was above her on the mountain and Reggie knew she’d be left behind if she didn’t keep up. They were both perfectly outfitted for the weather, with parkas, backpacks and spiked boots, but the treacherous conditions made the struggling Reggie barely able to see Trina above her in the heavy snow. She kept yelling for Trina to stop so she could catch her breath, but Trina kept getting farther and farther away until the only thing Reggie could make out were the Day-Glo numbers 404 on the back of Trina’s pack. Cold and exhausted, Reggie called again, only to have her voice snatched away by the howling, screaming wind, and then she was alone.

  Next thing she knew she was in a dark cave illuminated by a fire. Soft jazz could be heard. Jamal was sitting in the corner, and when their eyes met he stood. Dressed in all black, he came toward her. With each step he took, her clothes magically melted away. When he finally reached her side she was nude.

  Then the scene changed and they were on a bed and his mouth was slowly worshipping the peaks, hollows and curves of her body. His fiery lips blazed slowly over the base of her throat and the crooning points of her breasts. While he lingered there, his hand played between her legs, doing such magnificent things her hips were rising and she was moaning in the jazz-hushed silence. He was nude, too, now—dark, hard and sleek. “Are you ready to be loved?”

  The scandalous pleasure of his lips and hands had her so breathless, she had to fight to find the voice to reply, “Yes…”

  So he took her and she came with a long strangled scream, then bolted awake.

  Breathing hard, heart racing like a hydroplane on the Detroit River, she wildly looked around in the darkness. She was in her bedroom. Thank goodness! Her nipples were hard. The secret place between her thighs was throbbing and her whole body felt ripe with need. It was as if he’d slipped into her room, made love to her and slipped away again. She fell back onto the mattress. Mercy! She dragged her hands across her eyes. One minute she and Trina were climbing a mountain somewhere and then… Every bone-melting detail came back. From the vivid feel of his mouth branding her nipples to the slide of his fingers over her damp core, she relived it all. As his devilishly handsome face shimmered across her mind, she said to herself, This is not good. How could a simple kiss on the forehead trigger such an erotic dream, and what was the mountain climbing all about? She had no answers. The lighted dial on her alarm clock showed it to be only two, so she turned over and tried to go back to sleep. Because her body was still riding the echoes of the orgasm she’d had both in and out of the dream, it took even longer this time around.

  Chapter 4

  Six inches of snow fell overnight. The beautiful white landscape was a gorgeous sight to behold unless you had to dig out your car in order to get to work. Reggie’s troubled sleep made getting up that morning difficult and Mother Nature’s latest betrayal only added to it. According to the calendar, it was mid-April, and instead of the warm spring weather they were supposed to be having, the winter-weary residents of Michigan were shoveling and scraping another heavy dumping of the white stuff. Reggie’s car was completely buried, so she was using the blue handle of the kitchen broom to scissor off the piled-high snow hiding her roof, hood and trunk. The temp was in the mid-twenties. The Hawk, as Midwestern residents called the winter wind, was blowing at about fifteen miles an hour, making it feel like below zero on the skin and reducing visibility to zero as well. Even though she�
��d dressed herself in long johns, jeans, a sweatshirt, coat, hat and gloves, it was cold; the kind where it doesn’t matter how many layers you have on, you freeze. And it was still dark.

  Working under the pale glow of the light above the driveway and wading through knee-high drifts, it took her a good forty minutes to unearth her ride and there was no guarantee it would start. If it did, she still had to shovel a path down the driveway in order to drive off. She sighed wearily but kept working. On days like this, everybody working inside the city limits would be late for their job because the neighborhood side streets were always plowed last by the city workers, if at all.

  Her car started on the third try, and she sent up a gushing thank-you. Leaving it running, she got out, grabbed one of the big snow shovels and began digging her way down the drive. Gram’s honey, Mr. Baines, would be over later to clear it completely with his snowblower, but at 4:00 a.m. he was like everyone else who didn’t have to go anywhere, still asleep.

  She’d managed to clear a half-decent path and was pausing for a moment to catch her breath when she saw a black Land Rover coming up the street. Rovers were built for all kinds of extremes but even it was moving slowly. It stopped at the foot of her snow-filled driveway and a tall man in a nice black coat and hat got out.

  “Mornin’, ma’am,” he called over the wind.

  Reggie figured he was lost. “Can I help you?” There were enough of her neighbors outside digging and scraping to keep an eye on him, so she didn’t think she was in any danger, but she stayed under the light.

  “I’m looking for a Ms. Regina Vaughn.”

  That got her attention. “Why?”

  “I’m here to take her to work.”

  She thought the wind had garbled his reply because he couldn’t have said what she thought she’d heard. “What?”

  “I’m here to take her to work. Are you her?”

  Now she was really puzzled. “I didn’t order a car.”

  “I was hired by Mr. Jamal Reynolds.”

  Reggie’s mouth fell open.

  “Do I have the right address?”

  It took her a moment to get her brain back in gear. “Yeah, but if you take me to work, how do I get home?”

  “You’ll call me and I’ll pick you up and bring you back.”

  “Really?” She couldn’t suppress a laugh. What in the world was Jamal thinking? A hired Land Rover? For her? She thought about how long it was going to take her to crawl to work in the snow, how many times she might get stuck on the way there and back, and decided no way was she going to turn this down. “Give me a minute and I’ll be right back.”

  Happy like a kid at Christmas, she turned off the car, went inside, left her grandmother a note explaining why her car would still be sitting in the driveway when she got up, grabbed her purse and hurried back out.

  As the driver opened the door he gave her a nod of welcome.

  “Thank you,” she said, feeling like a queen. She bent down to enter the shadowy interior and heard, “Morning, Ms. Vaughn.”

  She froze. On the seat sat a smiling Jamal and all she could think about was last night’s dream.

  “You getting in?” he asked, his eyes filled with muted humor. He was in all black again. The turtleneck and slacks were set off by the thin gold chain around his neck.

  Taking in a deep breath, she entered fully and took a seat beside him. The driver closed them in and seconds later the car pulled off.

  There was jazz playing softly. The hushed, warm interior reminded her of the cave. The cozy atmosphere was such a contrast to the elements she’d been battling for the past hour, it was as if she had entered another world.

  “Got some coffee for you,” he informed her. “You take cream and sugar?”

  They were separated from the driver by a partition.

  “Yes on the cream and lots of sugar. What are you doing here?” Even at predawn, the man was so gorgeous he made her teeth ache.

  “Giving you a ride to work.”

  She stripped her snow-crusted gloves off her semifrozen hands and took the cup of hot coffee he offered. The warmth felt like heaven. She took a small sip. “Needs more sugar.”

  “You Cubano?” he asked, chuckling, but passed her a few more packets.

  “I like it sweet.”

  The driver’s voice interrupted them. “It may take us a while to get downtown but it shouldn’t be too long.”

  “Okay,” Jamal called back. “Just get us there in one piece.”

  “Will do.”

  Very aware of the man in black next to her, Regina looked out of the tinted windows. It was still dark, but the porch lights up and down the streets showed an army of folks in driveways shoveling and scraping their cars. She was glad to be no longer one of them.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  Reggie lied, “I did. You?”

  “Sort of. I think I’m still on West Coast time.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Got in the day before we met.”

  The tone of his voice slid over her senses and made her remember the question he’d whispered to her last night in the cave, Are you ready to be loved?

  He looked out the window. “I can’t get over all this snow. Does it do this all winter?”

  She dragged her mind back to the present. “Anytime between November and sometimes May.”

  “May?”

  “Welcome to the Midwest, Mr. Cali.”

  “And the city’s not shut down?”

  “It’s only six inches. If we’d gotten hit with a foot, maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  The coffee was beginning to warm her insides. She had no idea what she’d done to deserve this godsend, but she was thankful. “Why did you do this? Not that you didn’t make a girl’s day.”

  “I owed you for keeping you up late last night, and also I hoped it would be a nice surprise.”

  She studied him over her cup. “It is. Thank you.” And it was. She’d never had anyone do anything like this for her before.

  “You’re welcome.” What Jamal didn’t tell her was that he wanted to see her one more time before flying home and this was the only way he could think to accomplish it. Once she got to work, she’d be off-limits, and his flight was scheduled to leave before she punched out for the day. “Would you like to fly to Rio with me?”

  She chuckled. “What?”

  “Rio. I’m flying there tomorrow for a music festival.”

  “I’m a working girl, remember?”

  “I do but thought I’d ask.”

  “Are you telling me the truth?”

  “About me wanting you to come with me?”

  “No,” she countered, fighting off the heat radiating from his gaze. “Rio? Are you really going there?”

  He nodded. “Be there for three days. I have a hotel suite overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. We can walk the beach, take a ride up into the mountains.”

  His soft voice threw her off balance.

  “No,” she said with a lot less conviction than she’d planned.

  Looking at her as if she were something marvelous and rare, he slowly traced her cheek with his finger. “You’d like Rio. I’ll be going to Madrid next month. Have my own jet.”

  She was melting and her core was trembling. “No jetting to Spain either. Now stop. Put your hands in your pockets.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Giving her a tempting grin, he slid his hands into his pockets and sat back against the seat.

  Reggie didn’t know what she was going to do with him. Cute, smart, considerate, and now, playful and seductive. Every nerve in her body was singing with electricity. She was destined to lose herself to him; she already knew that. She planned to hold off for as long as she could.

  He asked, “Anybody special in your life?”

  She wondered when he’d get around to that question. “No.”

  “Good.”

  She gave him a look. “Good? Why?”

  “Because when
you’re in the studio day and night, the last thing you’ll want to be dealing with is a man resenting your work. Trust me. Very few significant others survive the making of a singer’s first CD, and they are definitely gone by the time the second one’s in the can.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded and his voice turned serious. “Most don’t like having to compete and end up issuing absurd ultimatums about choosing them or the music. Sometimes the relationship wins out, but if a singer is really passionate about being all they can be, the boo almost always winds up on the curb.”

  “Never thought about that, but since I’m not going to be in the studio…”

  “Quit playing, girl.”

  She grinned and went back to her coffee.

  “So, what’s your real reason for saying no?”

  “I told you last night.”

  “You did, but I think there’s something else going on with you.”

  “Really? You haven’t known me long enough to be able to read my insides.”

  “A good producer always knows his artists, so spill it. If it’s legit, I’ll back off.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “How about maybe?”

  Reggie looked away from his amused features. Could she really tell him the truth? “You won’t laugh?”

  “At you, never.”

  The way he said it made her believe him. “I’m scared,” she said flatly. “Of what?”

  “All of it. Everything that could be associated with going into the studio and what might happen after. I was fine when I was younger but now, I’m not a risk taker. That’s Trina’s job. I stand off to the side and hold her purse.” He smiled.

  She shrugged. “It’s true. I don’t do change well. I like being in my little box with the top taped shut.”

  “What if there’s someone along to hold your hand?”

  “You mean like Trina? We take Trina to L.A. we’ll never see her again.”

  “No, like me.”

  Another heart-stopping moment. She really had no answer to that either.

  “And if you think you need a chaperone, we’ll take your grandmother. Has she ever been to California?”

  “Not that I know of. But what about my job? Who’d stay with the house?” For the next few seconds she ran off a nonstop list of all the reasons why neither of the Vaughn women could leave Detroit, until he finally broke in and said softly, “Gina?”