10 #4
At long last the song was over. She sagged with relief as Rhys finished playing with a flourish. He turned to her with a smile. "See? That wasn't so bad. You can sing." Rhys leaned forward, one hand on the piano and the other propped behind Rhett on the bench.
"Only because I like that song." Nerves Rhett didn't even know she had began a frantic dance at the feel of his hand so close to her backside.
That yummy smell of dark chocolate and rum filled her senses as he leaned nearer.
"I loved the way they used it in Almost Famous.
That scene on the bus, you know? I'm just glad some advertiser hasn't used it yet to make people dance like idiots in some commercial," she babbled.
A grin lit his face, and Rhett thought she might go cross-eyed as a bolt of pure need zapped through her.
"What do you have against dancing?"
A shiver skittered through Rhett as his warm breath touched the skin of her face.
Mixed in with the chocolate and rum was a hint of the beer he sipped on earlier, and if the people at Sam Adams had any sense at all they'd hire Rhys to appear in their ads.
Run a magazine ad with a scratch-and-sniff thing, and no store would be able to keep that stuff in stock.
"I don't have anything against dancing," she breathed.
"I love to dance, even though I haven't done it in years.
" As his dark-blue gaze touched each part of her face, she found she had to push her voice past an industrial-sized constriction in her throat.
"I just don't like dancing in commercials.
" Why the hell was she still talking about that, for God's sake?
"They've got people doing stupid dance moves for barbeque grills, and breakfast cereals, and used cars, and...
and vitamins. And it just looks...stupid.
" No, stupid was the way her voice sounded as Rhys bent his head forward and breathed into her ear.
"You're right, it does." His chest pressed against her shoulder as he drew in a deep breath. "What's that scent you're wearing?"
Lost in the heady sensation of having his lips so close to her neck, Rhett almost replied 'chocolate and Bacardi' since the scent she wanted to wear was his.
Besides, he had her in such a stew that for a moment she couldn't remember the perfume she'd worn for over twenty years.
In her mind's eye she could see the bottle on her dresser and the tube of matching lotion right next to it. What the hell was it called?
"Beautiful," she said as the name popped into her head. "It's called Beautiful."
"Very apt," Rhys murmured. "But I don't think it's the perfume I find so appealing. I think it's just you."
And then his face was close to hers again, so close that she could see the reflection of her own face in his eyes. The tip of her tongue peeked out to moisten her suddenly dry lips, and a low sound of desire sounded in the back of Rhys's throat.
The feather-soft brush of his lips against hers sent Rhett's senses spiraling out of control.
It had been four years since she'd been kissed by any man, and to have Rhys be the one to break the dry spell overwhelmed her.
Her quick, indrawn breath trembled as he kissed her again, still soft and sweet, but with enough pent-up heat behind it to make the top of her head tingle.
Rhys pulled back enough to look into her eyes. "Rhett..."
The chorus of Nazareth's "Hair of the Dog" sounded from the pocket of his jeans and fractured the delicious tension. Without breaking eye contact, Rhys fished his cell phone out and hit the button to send the call to voice mail before tossing it onto the keyboard.
"Don't you need to get that?" Rhett whispered. It was the loudest volume her voice could manage.
"No, it's just Ross." Rhys's own whisper was low and husky, and Rhett could swear she felt it twine around her like the serpent in the Garden of Eden. "He'll text, or ring back if it's important."
Evidently it was, because the ring tone sounded again. An annoyed frown slanted Rhys's eyebrows. "I'll get rid of him." He snatched up the phone and swiped his thumb across the screen before putting it to his ear. "What's so bleedin' urgent?"
Released from the spell she'd been under, Rhett slid off the bench to her feet. "It's okay. I'll go so y'all can talk."
"What? Hold on," he barked into the phone. "Rhett, you don't have to go."
"It's okay," she repeated. "I'm sure it's band stuff, so I'll let you guys talk business.
" Confusion whipsawed inside her and made tiny beads of sweat pop out around her hairline.
Yes, she wanted him with every fiber of her being, but something internal jumped up and down and yelled that she wasn't ready.
All of a sudden it was imperative that she get the hell out of there before anything else happened.
"Thank you for inviting me up to hear the rain. That was so sweet of you." She bent down and brushed a kiss across his cheek. "I'll see you later."
"Rhett, wait."
She sent a quick wave over her shoulder as her feet skimmed across the cool marble tiles of the foyer.
"'Bye, Rhys."