She’d been crying again, harder since she’d left Zali’s side. Her cheeks were a splotchy pink, and her eyes were bloodshot. She sucked in a wobbly breath, and the flush in her cheeks deepened, crawling down her throat to the neckline of her dress.
“Hi-llo,” she stumbled and squeaked out an embarrassed noise. “I mean hi, hello, Mr Stevens.”
“Call me Monroe or Roe. Everyone does.” I stepped closer, and she flashed me a shy smile.
“Okay.” She gestured with a thumb over her shoulder back down the hallway into the bathroom. “I should….”
She spun on her toes, but before she could take a step, I called out, “Wait.” I had no idea what to say, but I knew I didn’t want her to leave.
I was moving before I could think, my legs carrying me to her. I touched her elbow and turned her around, then I brushed the backs of my fingers over her cheek.
“What happened?” I asked quietly.
She hiccupped, a cute little hitch in her breath, and her hand flew to her mouth. Cara turned a deeper shade of pink, and I caressed her cheek with my thumb again. I wanted to follow that flush with my tongue. Instead, I bit back my groan at how soft her skin was. How flawless.
I loved how responsive and utterly charming she was.
Her chest rose as she sucked in a breath. Wide-eyed, she shook her head. I couldn’t help how my gaze dropped, watching as her breasts pressed tight against the material of her dress. I wanted to strip her out of it and see them naked. I wanted to bury my face between them and breathe in her scent.
But I could be more of a gentleman than that.
When she didn’t answer, I swallowed down my disappointment and asked in a rough voice, “Would you like to dance? Maybe we can make each other’s days a little brighter.”
Cara stilled. She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again before flicking her eyes sideways, looking outside. She didn’t answer for a long moment, and my gut sank.
She was going to shoot me down.
I didn’t have a chance. And why would I? She was young, gorgeous and smart. I was old and washed-up.
Disappointment crashed into me, and I looked away, ready to paste on an it's-no-big-deal smile and walk away.
“Y-yes,” she whispered.
My heart stopped. My eyes snapped back up to hers, and she was standing right there, biting her bottom lip and nodding, her cheeks a rosy pink.
She spoke again, her words falling out of her and speeding up like a snowball gathering speed down a mountain. “I’d love to. I mean, I’m not very good, and I’ll probably stand on your foot, but….” She sucked in a breath and held it, then said, “Yes.”
I held my hand out, and Cara slipped her smaller one into mine. Her fingers were cool and her touch tentative. I led her into the expansive living room. The sound system was one of those fancy one-touch ones, but I had no idea how to change the music, only how to turn it on and off. I held my breath, hoping it wasn’t terrible, and choked out a relieved laugh when the unmistakeable strains of “Something” by The Beatles started.
“Oh, thank God.” I huffed and dropped the tablet back on the couch.
Taking her into my arms was like coming home. I pulled her closer than was proper, but I couldn’t help it. I was almost beside myself with a desperation to have her pressed against me. I wanted to feel those soft curves under my palm and against my body. I swayed gently with her, letting her get comfortable.
“Tristan and I were listening to music while we were checking over the script for the movie,” she explained, blushing prettily. Cara seemed to be fighting her smile, but all that sweetnessneeded an outlet, and she batted her eyelashes. “The Beatles are my favourite.”
“They are? You’re young. I’m surprised you even know who they are.”
“Mum loves music, especially the classics. She always says that your life is enriched with it, so I grew up on everything from Elvis to Elton John and Metallica to Michael Jackson. As long as it was before 2000, we listened to it.”
“What happened after 2000?” I asked, a delighted grin in place. I loved that she was opening up, telling me a bit about herself.
“You don’t know?” The smile she wore slipped off and she became serious, blinking at me with owl-eyes. “Music died.”
I barked out a laugh, and she grinned again, a snort-laugh escaping her. She turned beet red and let go of my arm to press her hand against her mouth before closing her eyes and shaking her head. Her shoulders fell, and it was as if she was telling herself off. I didn’t want that at all.
“Surely there’s at least one song that could save it?” I joked, trying to bring her back.
Her fingers parted and she looked at me through them before nodding. “Mum—” Cara shrugged and dropped her hand back to my bicep before she rolled her eyes. “Well, let’s just say it’s not worth arguing with Mum. What about you? Do you like music?”
