“I get by. My high school choir teacher said I had a talented ear.”
“And voice.”
She smiled, caught the scent of Val’s skin. “That and an open guitar case might have made me a few bucks on a city corner.”
“You weren’t willing to risk a roof over your head for the dream of a singing career.” His observation was on-target.
“My parents live week by week, Masini. I didn’t want that.” The music coming from the piano started to sound dark. Meg purposely switched it to something quick and lively. “What about you? Ever want something different in your life that you didn’t go for?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she glanced up to find him studying her.
“Not yet.”
“Sounds like there’s something.”
He brushed the side of her face with the back of his hand, moved closer.
Meg stopped playing, felt her pulse jump.
“Where’s Michael?” Val whispered.
“Michael?” The name didn’t register.
Val lifted his left eyebrow. “The man you’re here with.”
Right. “He’s a . . .” Damn, he smelled edible.
Val’s palm captured her neck and guided her to her feet. “He’s just a friend, isn’t he, Margaret?”
The way Val’s lips moved drew her closer. The need to taste them, feel them on hers was impossible to walk away from. “If I told you we were more than friends . . .”
Val’s eyes traveled from her lips to her eyes. “Then I’d have to let you go.” He loosened his fingers on her neck, but instead of moving away, Meg leaned in.
“Sounds like you might regret that decision.” She laid a hand on his firm chest. The man wasn’t soft under his stuffy suits.
“I don’t pursue another man’s woman.”
He wasn’t moving away.
“Good to hear, Masini.” She lifted her lips close to his, felt his breath mix with hers. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
Val hesitated for a nanosecond, and then took her lips. His closed-mouth kiss started off soft, like a hesitant man worried about rushing. Yet when Val wrapped his free hand around her waist, and his body fit against hers, Meg opened for him, encouraged him to taste.
When he did, she lost it. He tasted of bourbon and sex. God help her, she wanted to crawl into his kiss and explore it for hours. The man kissed like he was on a mission. And maybe he was. Who knew if Val Masini made it a weekly occurrence to kiss a new woman? Somehow, she didn’t think so. He was too reserved most of the time.
Not now . . . not with his tongue exploring hers and his strong hands pressing the small of her back closer. Every hard ridge of the man met with every soft curve of hers.
The kiss went on until she found her chest tightening with a familiar warning. Sexual excitement had to be paced or she might find herself in a full-blown asthma attack. A frustrating fact of her life in the last few years. One that kept her single most of the time, her encounters lukewarm at best.
Val was threatening the air in her lungs with just a kiss.
A heated knock her on her ass kiss, but a kiss nonetheless.
She eased away and Val chased her lips.
She tried to slow her breathing, couldn’t catch a deep breath. “Wait,” she managed, pulling away.
“Too much, cara?”
You have no idea.
She reached out, felt her head spin a little. Her inhaler was in her purse. Her next two breaths didn’t satisfy the need for air. Instead of trying to fake her way out of his arms, she gave him a tiny shove. “Can’t. Breathe.”
He smiled, then the smile fell when he realized she wasn’t being cute. “Are you OK?”
“Purse.”
He guided her to the bench and handed her the clutch.
The rescue inhaler did its job, and she managed a few deep breaths and felt her pace slow.
Val knelt beside her, watching with his hands at her sides. “Are you all right?”
Embarrassed, she nodded. “It doesn’t always come on like that.”
Concern brought his eyebrows together. “Should I call a medic?”
She placed a hand on his shoulder. “No.” The tightness passed, slowly. “I can usually avoid this. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Val squeezed her thighs. “I want you breathless, but not like that.”
Meg smiled. “You can add lethal kisser to your resume.”
He captured her hands, brought them to his lips. “Is it always like that?”
“No. Just when . . .” Admitting she was turned on by a simple kiss didn’t feel right, not after a first kiss.
Holy crap . . . she’d just kissed Val Masini. And here she was on an island posing as Michael’s girlfriend. What was wrong with her?
She tried to stand up. “I should go.”
Val pushed her back down. “Wait.”
“I really shouldn’t be out here with you . . . like this.”
His gaze narrowed. “You said you didn’t belong to him.”
“I don’t. But that isn’t the point.”
There was knowledge behind his eyes, and a sense of confidence that Meg wasn’t used to with the men she’d been with. “OK, Margaret. I’ll let you run away . . . for now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’re not done.”
“Cocky much, Masini?”
He didn’t answer, just stood, and helped her to her feet.