Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Dominic sat on the piano bench, waiting for Sylvie to draw the bow across the instrument. If she didn’t know how to play, she was certainly making a good show of it. But he wouldn’t put anything past this woman.
Maybe he’d won their first round a few weeks ago, but today he was off his game. He was still reeling from Sandford’s call yesterday. Maybe that explained it.
He hadn’t been able to reach Raymond, and now that Sandford was against them, he didn’t know how to get a message to Warren. He’d thought he was in limbo before, but this was so much worse.
Did he need to find a new attorney? But wouldn’t that just piss off Uncle Charles? Would his uncle view that as a potential sign Dominic was flipping—an act of war?
Sylvie was proving a very welcome diversion from his problems. When she’d first stepped into the room, he’d had a fleeting worry that she could be in danger if his uncle chose today to strike at him.
But he’d dismissed the thought. Charles had given him some time before he had to make a decision.
There was no real reason for concern and every reason for him to try starting over with her.
Sylvie didn’t like him. She’d made that clear. But he was Dominic Crane. He’d been the head of the Silverlake Syndicate. A man who’d been feared. Who’d been wanted.
He was far from powerless.
Plus, he enjoyed listening to her talk. She kept saying surprising things. Making him smile. And making him talk, in a way he rarely did. In a matter of minutes, he’d told her about his family—leaving out Raymond, because that subject stung too much.
And this, right now, what she was doing? Even more surprising.
Sylvie had just started to play. Damn. She had skills.
She was playing Debussy’s Claire de Lune. The bow moved with fluid grace across the strings. The hypnotic melody sent chills to Dominic’s nerve endings.
Sylvie’s version was expressive. Tender. The softness of her touch proved she’d studied the instrument well. He watched her biceps flexing while her torso swayed slightly.
She’d worn a tight, cropped tank, which showed off both her perky little breasts and the tattoos that covered the backs of her shoulders and the top halves of her arms. All black ink, clearly by a single artist. Beautiful work.
He had an urge to strip her bare and study them more closely, like she was a museum piece.
Her tank rode up at the waist, revealing taut stomach muscles.
Her volume increased with the pace. Building toward a crescendo. He’d never heard this arrangement of the song before.
Fuck. It was like sex.
And his body was responding in kind. His pulse matched the beat of the music. His eyes roved shamelessly over the curves of her body as she played. Delicious zaps of pleasure ran along his spine and into his balls.
He wouldn’t let himself get hard because he doubted Sylvie would appreciate that. But he was starting to sweat from the effort of keeping himself in control.
So much of his life was ugly. And here she was, filling his day with beauty.
Suddenly, she stopped. The bow and violin lowered to her sides.
“Why didn’t you finish the song? You were just getting to the best part.”
She shrugged, replacing the instrument on the wall. “I proved my point.”
“Okay, so you can play. I’d love to keep listening.”
Sylvie’s grin was devious. “I’m sure you would.”
Oh, that burned. And after his asshole stunt last time? He completely deserved it.
“How’d you learn to play like that?”
She opened her mouth, and Dominic could already tell she was going to deny him again. So, he cut her off. “No, let me guess. Your parents were folk singers. You grew up at the feet of Joni Mitchell and John Denver in their glory days.”
“I’m not that old.” But she was still smiling. He kept going.
“But you were a rebel and only enjoyed music written at least a century ago. You entered a music conservatory in Vienna at the tender age of thirteen. Then…you were rescued by the American military from a war-torn country during your world tour, and that’s how you ended up indentured to a philistine like Max Bennett. You’re working off your debt.”
“That’s quite a story. And makes absolutely no sense.”
“Then tell me the real version.” Who are you, Sylvie? He was dying to know.
“It’s so much more boring than any of that, I promise.”
He gestured around him. “I’m short on entertainment these days.”
Her smile vanished. Shit, he’d said the wrong thing.
“I’m not here to entertain you.” Sylvie walked toward the door. “I should take a look at the system now.”
“Wait.”
She opened the door and strode out to the hall. Dominic trailed after her. In the kitchen, Sylvie picked up her equipment bag. Maureen wasn’t here.
She went over near the front door, pulled a laptop from her bag, and plugged it into a port on the side of the alarm panel. “Could you tell me again what the system’s been doing?”
“Sylvie, can we just go back to—”
“I’m here to do a job. Either you help me with that, or I can leave. Those are the two options.”
He didn’t want her to go. Not yet. “Fine. It’s been switching itself on and off. Either Maureen or I keep the alarm set pretty much at all times. But at night, I’ll walk by and see it go to ‘unarmed.’ Then it flips back again, even though she and I haven’t touched it.”
“Huh. And does it make any noises? Any sirens?”
“Nothing like that. I only noticed it in the first place because the light was flashing from red to green.”
“Does it happen during the day, too?”
“Sometimes? I think. But mostly at night. I’m up a lot.”
Her eyes slid toward him, then away again. “Let me see what the code looks like.”
A window appeared on her laptop screen, filled with seemingly random gibberish. “You know what that stuff means?”
“I should hope so. I wrote it.”
He hovered behind her. She was quiet for a long time, scrolling through the window of code. He should’ve been bored, but he wasn’t. Her very presence—her scent, the sound of her breathing, the little unconscious hums she made—were fascinating to him.
It took effort not to run a finger down the vertebrae at her neck. Her skin looked soft. Kissable.
“My code looks just as it should be. I’ll run a debugger just in case, but I don’t see the problem. And I haven’t seen this glitch myself.”
“You don’t believe me? You think I made this up?”
“No, I believe you. I’m not done yet. I’ll check your network next. Maybe you picked up some malware? I would’ve thought our software could withstand the average virus. But I don’t know what kind of weird porn you download.”
He scoffed. “I only subscribe to high-end adult entertainment sites.” Though he doubted he could pay those monthly fees much longer.
She scowled at him over her shoulder. “Ew. I don’t need to know that.”
“You were the one who brought it up.”
And now he was having some vividly dirty thoughts about Sylvie stripping down and touching herself as he watched. He’d watch her do pretty much anything.
In fact, just watching her work was doing it for him. Dominic braced one arm against the wall, angling his body toward her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, not looking up.
“Looking at you. Is it bothering you? Should I stop?”
Normally, he wouldn’t be creeping on some random woman who’d arrived at his house to do a job.
But Sylvie wasn’t just anyone. She’d shown definite interest before.
Her verbal jabs at him were just another form of flirting.
And she’d obviously been trying to impress him with the violin thing. Damn, it had worked.
“You don’t have to stop,” she murmured, so low he almost couldn’t hear her.
Desire flooded his veins.
He wanted this woman. Every minute he spent near her, he wanted her even more.