Lesson in Romance. Harmony Evans

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Lesson in Romance - Harmony Evans


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for success. She had to convince him to continue with the lessons, to believe he could do this.

      A sudden burst of energy rocked her body. She set aside the contract and smoothed her skirt.

      “I’m sorry Tommy didn’t communicate with you.” She kept her voice calm, chose her words more carefully. “You have every right to be upset.”

      Alex flopped down on the far end of the couch, leaned back and slung his arm over his eyes.

      She swiveled her legs to face him. He turned his head and gave her a pointed stare.

      “I can tell you this. I don’t need a tutor,” he retorted, his voice razor-sharp as he jabbed his thumb into his chest. “Even if I did, I should be the one doing the hiring.”

      Her face burned with anger. Although she knew he was simply blowing off steam, completely understandable in this unusual situation, she had to look away to maintain her composure.

      Alex tapped her arm and it pulsated with heat, sending her heart rate to the moon. She turned, hoping her reaction to his touch didn’t show in her eyes.

      “Look, Miss Williams,” he said, his voice several notches softer. Her last name got lost in a yawn. “As you can see, I’m exhausted from my trip. I’m sorry about the inconvenience, but there’s no deal. I can’t do this.”

      She unfolded her arms at her sides. “If it’s my qualifications you’re worried about, I can assure you th—”

      “You don’t get it, do you?” He leaped from the couch, his voice thundering off the walls. “I should fire Tommy for pulling this stunt, but I can’t blame him. He was just trying to protect me.”

      Her eyes paced with him as he walked in front of the huge marble fireplace until he stopped and leaned his elbow on the mantle.

      She got up and took a few tentative steps toward him. “Protect you? From what?”

      “My record company! While I was in Europe, they set up a book tour of elementary schools in Harlem. But they…” His voice trailed off and something seemed to deflate within him.

      “Don’t know you can’t read,” she finished.

      “Bingo.”

      Their eyes locked, and now that Cara was standing closer to him, she saw his were hazel, the irises speckled with bits of green. She was momentarily mesmerized by their unusual hue and the intense shame color couldn’t hide.

      So that’s why he’s so angry. Although he would probably never admit it, she could see in his eyes he was afraid. She had to tread lightly, or she’d lose him to that fear.

      Alex parted his lips like he was going to say something else, but instead he stalked away.

      She trailed after him. “Well, it is kind of a cool way to introduce your music to a younger audience,” she offered. “I know if I was a kid, I’d be excited to see you in person.”

      A few feet away, he swung around and stared at her like she had two heads. “It’s a waste of time! Kids are listening to hip-hop and rap, not jazz. Armstrong, Coltrane, Miles and Ellington—they’ve never heard of them. If it ain’t sampled or doesn’t have enough bass to blow their eardrums out, they’re not into it.”

      His eyes shifted to the overflowing wastebasket, then back to her.

      “When does the tour start?”

      “Week from today,” Alex grumbled. “Tommy’s trying to get it pushed back.”

      Cara ran her hand through her curls before walking over to where he stood at the window. “Learning to read is very difficult for anyone, especially for adults. It’s not something you want to attempt on your own.”

      He whirled around and pointed at her. “I told you I’m not interested. I’ve gotten along fine my whole life and nobody’s gonna change that. I’ll handle this book tour fiasco in my own way, in my own time, not anyone else’s.”

      He turned and jabbed the windowsill with his knuckles, as if to emphasize that the matter was closed. Still, even his taut arms and the harsh finality of his words rang hollow.

      Both of them knew there was no escape from what lay ahead.

      He put his forehead against the windowpane. “Tommy is the only one besides my mom who knows about…that I can’t…” His voice ebbed away and he shook his head. “He’s been with me for years, through everything, almost since the beginning of my career.”

      She gazed at the muscular expanse of his bare back and a sense of protectiveness winnowed through her. She wanted to wrap her arms around his trim waist and pull him away from his fears. She had to make him believe in himself, and in her.

      She approached him, placed her hand on his arm, hating herself for what she was about to say. His skin felt warm and the muscle underneath tensed as he turned to look at her. “It sounds like he really cares about you, and helps you out a lot. But what if, God forbid, something happens to Tommy. What then?”

      His shoulders slumped in reply and she knew she’d hit a nerve. Then his eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes filled with pain, bore into hers.

      When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse and splintered her heart. “This can’t get out. If it does, it’ll destroy my career.”

      As a high-profile musician and one of the hottest bachelors in Harlem, she knew the media would have a field day if they learned he was illiterate.

      “No one will know. I promise,” she assured him, keeping her voice light in spite of the emotions churning within her. “I live a very quiet, boring life and I’d like it to stay that way.”

      “I don’t think anything about you would qualify as boring.”

      She bit her lower lip with pleasure, although she was unsure whether he meant it as a compliment.

      “Tommy told me about the big money I’m going to give to you.”

      She shook her head. “You mean donate. None of it is going to me personally. It’s going to fund Beacon House.”

      He gave her a curious stare, then shrugged. “It doesn’t matter because you’re both nuts. There’s no way I can learn how to read in one weekend,” he insisted.

      She nodded. “You’re right. You won’t be able to read War and Peace, but I promise you’ll be able to read a simple children’s book by Monday.”

      Alex shoved his hands into his jeans, revealing a thin line of hair at the base of his abdomen that Cara longed to trace to its final destination.

      He sounded doubtful. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

      She looked him in the eye. “Of course you do,” she asserted. “You can quit, but look at your options. If you do the tour, your record company is happy and no one knows a thing. If you don’t do the tour, it’ll be a PR nightmare. I’m willing to bet they already sent out the press release, right?”

      “Yes. My publicist was overjoyed. At least one of us is happy.”

      “So, what reason could you possibly give for backing out now?”

      He smoothed his hand over his perfectly round, bald head and gave a sigh of resignation. “I guess the dog ate my homework wouldn’t fly, would it?”

      She grinned. “It’s going to be okay. I promise,” she said, reassuring him. “If you don’t want to continue with the reading lessons after the tour, you don’t have to. But regardless, your secret will be safe.”

      And so will mine.

      Alex stared at her a moment, and Cara knew he was debating whether to trust her or not. She had to figure out a way to make him feel at ease with her…and soon.

      Slipping his hands out of his pockets, he pushed away from the window with his shoulder. “I’m


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