Perfect Harmony (8 page)

Chase opens his mouth to speak, but he stops abruptly, his
attention turning to a stunning young woman climbing on to the stage with the
orchestra and whispering in the conductor’s ear.

The crowd around us hushes to a quiet murmur, everyone’s
eyes on this mysterious woman.  She turns to look at the crowd and sees us. 
She waves.

I’ve never seen this woman in my life.  Why is she waving at
me?

Then it dawns on me - I’m not the one she’s waving at.

I turn to Chase and see him give her a nod.

Who is this woman?  How does she enrapture the entire room? 
Why does Chase go quiet for her?

“Who’s that?” I ask, trying to be coy.

“She’s a new acquisition of mine.”

“
Acquisition
?”

He turns to me and brushes my cheek lightly with his
fingers.  “Relax, my princess.  Her name’s Vanessa.  A recent addition to my
label.  She’s a bright young thing, very friendly.  In fact, you two must be
about the same age.  I imagine the two of you would get on very well.”

“Oh.  You think so?” I say, trying my hardest to shake any
annoyance and bitterness from my voice, but I fail miserably.

Chase arches his eyebrows.  “Jealous, are we?”

“No.  Of course, not.”

He grins.  “You have nothing to be afraid of, my princess. 
My interest in her is purely professional.  And it should be for the money I
paid to grab her.  Her contract cost me a fortune.”

“She’s that good?” I say.

“Not really.  But she was ready to be snapped up by my
biggest rival, that bastard Callaghan.”

My eyes fly open and I pull the champagne flute from my
lips.  “Duncan?” I whisper.

Chase grins in satisfaction.  “He may have been kind to you,
but he’s been a thorn in my side for too long.  He was ready to promote
Vanessa, had a whole image plan and album proof down, all ready to go into
production.  He had lots of money invested, but, in a show of good faith, the
fool put off getting her to sign a contract.  I swooped in offering her twice
as much and now she’s mine.”

“Oh,” I say.  I’m not sure whether it’s the alcohol on an empty
stomach or the lighting in the room, but I suddenly start to feel nauseous.

I’d heard Duncan tell me of his woes over this only last
week.  He rang me up and let it all out, cursing and swearing and raging on and
on, but I listened.  A kind word here and there and then he’d listen to my
worries.  It’s a ritual we’ve performed every week, ever since we were kids.

That’s what brothers and sisters do.

Duncan and Chase had competed with each other over
acquisitions for years, ever since my brother had fought him over a small
record company for next to nothing with a no name indie band on the label that
Chase once managed.  Chase considered the band his by right, but Duncan somehow
found out about the deal and swooped in before Chase could make an offer, and
absorbed the record company into his own.  That band went on to top the charts
and secure a platinum record, earning Duncan hundreds of millions in revenue.

If Chase ever found out Duncan is my brother...

Chase had already suspected me of corporate espionage when
he caught me in his office.  Alone.  In the dark.  With his files.

If he found out the truth, he’ll think I’m a plant, someone
to secure private information and insider knowledge and pass it along to his
bitterest rival.

I can’t let him find out.  No way.  It would ruin
everything.

My knees tremble and fall back a step.  Chase catches me in
his arms.

“Melody?  Damn it, you should have eaten something before
downing all that champagne.”

I nod.

He’s concerned about me.  It breaks my heart to know that
I’ve lied to him, that I’m still lying.  It seemed so easy when I applied for
the job - I just left my family name off the application form and I was never
worried any harm would come from it.

Chase never would have hired me otherwise.  But telling him
now would be catastrophic - he’d fire me for sure.  Worse, I’d have to return
home to my father, conclusive proof of what he always believed - that I’m an
utter failure.  He always told me that I’d never get anywhere with my dream -
that I wasn’t pretty enough to be a singer.  And if I return home now with my
tail between my legs, he’d shake his head in the admonishing way he always
does, full in the knowledge that he was right all along.

I might even have to consider my father’s demand to marry
that arrogant and lecherous old man he’d employed as director of his Asia
office.  The way he looked at me when my father introduced us...

It was like a coyote slobbering over his meal.

“I’m not hungry,” I say.

“Nonsense,” he says.  “You said yourself, you haven’t eaten all
day, and you’re practically falling over.  While I wished you would fall into
my arms, I didn’t mean it quite so literally.”

I give him a weak smile.

“In fact, I have an idea.”  He beckons over a waiter and
whispers in his ear.  The waiter gives Chase a perfunctory nod and speeds off
towards the kitchen.

“What was that about?” I ask.

“I requested that a selection of the food be taken to my
limo, so we may dine in peace.  Plus, you could do with the fresh air.”

“A private dinner in your limo?”  I look back at the
dazzling ballroom and sigh cheerlessly.  “All this?  Is it over already?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re taking me home, aren’t you?”

He nods.

I sigh again.

He holds out his hand.  “Come.”

I reluctantly take it and he leads me for the last time through
the dense crowd of admirers.  They’re all so glamorous and alluring, and they
all wish us the best as we leave.  It felt like hours passed when Chase first
had to personally address these people, but now it feels more like minutes.  I
wish this evening wouldn’t end so quickly, but before I know it, the cold
September mist in the foyer slaps my cheeks.

We leave through the giant double doors and stand underneath
the towering Wiltshire skyscraper, the rain sheeting down like thick shards of
ice.

The limo pulls up in front of us and glides to a stop.

“It’s really over, isn’t it?”  I look up at Chase.  He
stands there so majestically, that I’m without words.  How can I possibly tell
him how grateful I am for tonight - really truly grateful for everything he’s
given me?  That it has meant so much to me that any regret I have that the
night is over is drowned out by the pure bliss I feel for having experienced
it.  “Thank you,” I say.  “This has been the best night of my life.”

He smirks then grabs me with one arm and thrusts me to him,
our bodies hot against one another.

“I think you misunderstand.”

My breath is thick and fast.  “You said you were taking me
home,” I whisper.

“I never said whose home.”

My heart thunders against my chest, his hot breath brushing
against my skin.  His gaze pierces my own, his dark eyes wild with fire. 
Droplets of rain drip down his hair, glistening in the silver of the moonlight.

“But... you’re my boss,” I stutter through muted breaths.  “I
thought you wanted to...”

He brings my face to his own and strokes a tendril of wet
hair away from my eyes.  His eyes dart to my lips and then he leans in and I
close my eyes, feeling the warm brush of his lips against my ear.

“There is only one thing that I want,” he whispers.

I freeze, my body alight with the feeling of his own pressed
against me.  The heat of his finger tips running through my hair.  His powerful
arm pulling me close, warm against the bare skin of my back.  And the feel of
his chest muscles, rippling beneath his tuxedo, pushing into my breasts.

He pulls his head away and cups my cheek with his hand,
tilting my head up.  I open my eyes and he’s staring straight at my lips, his
thumb lightly stroking my chin.

I want to form words, to say something.  Anything.  But it’s
impossible.  All I can hear is the sound of my beating heart and my thick
breaths and the rain pouring down around us.  It’s like we’re in our own little
world, a small section of space removed from reality, possessed by nothing but
our two bodies, entwined and embraced and together.  So right and free and
perfect.

The way Chase looks at me...

I part my lips, his own merely inches away.  He moves in
closer, and closer, our hot breath mingling in the ever decreasing space
between us.

His lips are almost on my own.  Just one more second and...

“Hey!  He’s over here!

Chase spins round and glares over my shoulder.  I turn to
look.

“Fucking paparazzi,” growls Chase.

A short man with a camera swinging below his neck rushes up
and bombards us with questions, but I can’t hear any of them over the
cataclysmic howl of the wind.

Chase pulls me away from the man and leads us to the limo. 
He thrusts the door open and takes my wrist as I step into the backseat.

A flashbulbs rhythmically pounds against Chase’s face like
white lightning, his face turned into a twisted scowl, hard edged and ready to
snap.

“Mr.  Strong!  Come on.  Just one statement.”

Chase bats the man away.

But he doesn’t let up.

“Just one.  Jesus.  It’s hardly that hard, moneybags.  You
guys think you’re so special being born into all this shit.  You’re just
lucky.”

Chase snaps and spins around.

“You want a statement?”

Suddenly, Chase swings with his fist, smacking the guy
straight in the jaw.  He topples over the curb and tumbles on to the pavement.

Chase loosens his tie.  “And they say my speeches lack a
punch.”

He climbs into the limo and slams the door.

“Drive,” he says to the chauffeur.

The driver’s foot hits the pedal and guns the engine.  The
limo roars into action and we shoot off down the street.

I turn to look out the window behind us.  I can’t see
anything over the mob of flashbulbs sparking in the distance.

“Are you alright?” I say to Chase.

He rubs his fist with his fingers.  “Never felt better.”  He
sits back against the soft leather.  “Take the back streets, Miller.  I don’t
want them following.”

“Right away, Sir,” says his driver.  “The penthouse?”

Chase nods and presses a button on the door.  The privacy
divider rolls up.

We are completely alone.

“You’re penthouse?”  My mouth is dry.  I swallow.

“Yes, it’s in Manhattan.  It’s like a castle in the sky. 
You can see the whole of New York stretched out into the horizon.”

“Oh.”

He takes my hand.  “It’ll give us total privacy.”

“Chase, this is happening so fast.  One minute we were
talking and drinking, and then we almost... I can’t process it all.”

“Don’t.  Forget over-thinking and rationalising.  There is
only you and me, nothing else.”

Shit.  If it was that easy to turn my brain off I would have
done it years ago.

But maybe he has a point - maybe I should just let go.

I swallow again and my stomach gurgles.

Hunger.  I completely forgot how hungry I was.

I see a platter of delicious food opposite us, and a bottle
of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice on the seat.

But sitting there and staring at that array of delicacies,
the hunger seemed trivial.  There was only one thing I was hungry for, and it
wasn’t dinner.

I turn to Chase and smile.  He brushes my cheek softly with
his hand and I get lost once again in those fathomless eyes.

“I never thought I’d meet someone like you, Melody.  Someone
so...”

“Interesting?” I say.  I smile wanly.

“...Incredible.”  His fingers trace the back of my neck,
slowly trickling down and setting my body on edge; a sensitive stroking tickle
that excites me at the deepest level.  “You’re nothing like anyone I’ve ever
known.”

“Oh?” I whisper.

“I want you — fuck that - I
need
you in my bed.”

His bottomless gaze burns me, his thumb brushing my bottom
lip, so slowly and sensitively, my skin lights up and a thrill rushes through
every inch of my body.  His fingers are over my hair, massaging and kneading,
and I feel a hum between my legs.  A desperate craving that’s begging for him.

“I want to touch you, Melody,” he says, his breath like fire
against my ear.  “I want to suck on your nipples, and taste this mouth, to lick
every inch of your sweat dripped skin until you beg me to fill you.”

I tremble.  Breath seems impossible.  His words drip like
honey and I’m paralysed by his touch.

“Your body will press against mine, naked and burning with
desire, and I’ll taste you and you’ll taste me and I’ll take you, filling you
deep inside until you quiver and cry out in ecstasy and beg me for more, and
our bodies buck against each other as the rest of the world fades to nothing,
and when you think it couldn’t go on any more - that it’s impossible to feel so
much blinding pleasure, you’ll pop like a bottle of warm champagne.”

I’m there.  I’m in every word, powerless and under his
control, drifting and unable to focus.

His lips are mere inches from my own, my lower lip swollen
and quivering, craving his touch once again, his warm breath beating against my
skin.  My mouth glides towards him, and I tilt my head up, our lips closer and
closer, an inch apart, the distance closing.

He says something.  His words trail over me like a soft
blanket.  “A night of pure pleasure.”

His fingers slide down my hair like raindrops, and my heart
races.

“We let go of everything, for just one night.  You and me. 
Together,” he says.

No.  I can’t.  This is wrong and stupid and wrong.

I need to stop this.  If I don’t then my life is over. 
There’s so much danger and risk.

And why the hell does that make me want him more?

I can’t do this - I can’t have sex with my boss.  I can’t
screw a man who hates my family and believes I’m another person.