Every Beat of My Heart Read online

  What she didn’t know was that he’d never stopped thinking about her. She might have given up on their relationship, but he hadn’t. He’d stopped calling her once he realized she wasn’t going to speak to him, but he knew he’d get another shot. Charlotte was a large city, but not so large they wouldn’t eventually run into each other. And when they did, he intended for her to hear him out, just one more time. If she still didn’t want to see him, then so be it. But he had to try because deep inside, he knew she couldn’t resist the molten-hot physical attraction that had drawn them together in the first place.

  Smiling, he tucked away the newspaper and the photo. Lina was out there somewhere, and he would square things away with her soon enough. Right now, he had another mission.

  Come tomorrow night that piano was going to be his, and he didn’t care how much it cost.

  Chapter 2

  Lina arrived at the one-story building housing Cleveland and Wendell Auction House around four on Friday afternoon, a full two hours before the auction was set to begin. She wanted to make sure she got a good seat up front, where the auctioneer could easily see her paddle.

  There were many items up for sale at that night’s event, including paintings, antique furniture and even a few other musical instruments connected to some important person or another. Despite the impressive array, she was only interested in one thing: Monk’s piano.

  She’d chosen a black sheath and a pair of matching pumps for the evening. The dress was long, with a slit for ease of movement. She tightened her gray wrap around her shoulders to shield herself from the subzero air-conditioning as she went to the front desk to sign in and obtain her paddle.

  After securing her paddle, she moved through the well-appointed corridor toward the suite where the auction would be held. The place had an aristocratic feel due to the decor; cream-colored wallpaper imprinted with a gold brocade pattern, dark maple furniture that looked more like artwork than something to sit on. The windows were covered by velvet drapes the color of eggplants, and the floors were covered with thick Berber carpet in the same shade. Side tables held dramatic floral arrangements of tall white calla lilies in gold vases, ceramic figurines and crystal dishes displaying wax fruit.

  She entered the suite and found it was decorated in the same fashion. The room had been arranged with rows of chairs much less fancy than the ones in the lobby, but still plush and cushioned. A center aisle had been created to separate the seats into two sections. All the chairs faced a raised platform in the front of the room where a podium and microphone were set up. There was no one else there, and that made her smile. As the first to arrive she had her pick of seats, so she moved toward one on the front row of the left section, bordering the aisle.

  She was just about to ease her behind onto the thick burgundy cushion when she heard a male voice.

  “Lina, is that you?”

  She recognized the deep timbre of it right away, and her eyes slid shut. She straightened and turned slowly toward the voice, all the while willing her instincts to be wrong.

  They were not.

  When she opened her eyes, she saw Rashad standing at the back of the room near the door she’d just come through.

  He looked so handsome he threatened to take her breath away. He wore a coal-black suit with a soft blue shirt and black-and-blue-striped tie. The suit was cut to fit his tall, muscular frame, and was well complemented by the black wing tips on his feet.

  Her eyes traveled up to his face, and to the thing about him that had always made her knees go weak: his hair. The impeccably maintained dreadlocks he wore were wound and bound low on his neck. But since she’d spent many a night running her hands through his hair, she knew it was long enough to reach the middle of his back. God, he was sexy.

  While she sat there on the verge of drooling, he steadily moved closer to her.

  He spoke again, his voice cutting into her fantasy. “It is you. It’s good to see you again, Lina.”

  “I...uh... It’s good to see you, too.” She stammered the response, disarmed by his striking good looks and easy manner.

  He smiled, his soft, full lips spreading to reveal his perfect pearl-white teeth. “This is so funny. I haven’t seen you in months, and this is the first place I run into you. What brings you here?”

  She blinked several times as she struggled to remember why she’d come, or even where she was. What was it about this man that made her brain function slow down to a crawl?

  He regarded her for a few silent moments as if waiting for her to answer his question.

  Realizing she would never be able to answer him while looking at all his sexiness, she shut her eyes. That seemed to kick her brain back into gear, because she was finally able to respond. “I want to buy the piano.”

  “Monk’s piano?”

  She nodded, opened her eyes. “I don’t think there are any other pianos up for sale.”

  He released a low, sexy chuckle. “Looks like we’re after the same thing, then.”

  She drew in a deep breath. She knew from her time with Rashad that he loved Thelonious Monk just as much as her mother did, if not more. She’d been so focused on getting the piano, she hadn’t even thought about the chance he might know about the auction and make an appearance.

  He strolled up the aisle, taking the seat opposite her in the right section. His manner was as maddeningly casual as always.

  Not knowing what else to do or say, she sat down. There was still a good hour or so until the auction would begin. In the meantime, she fished around in her handbag and pulled out her phone. Generally she considered it gauche to use a phone in a setting like this, but she’d do just about anything to avoid looking at the painfully handsome man seated across from her.

  She was scrolling through her Twitter feed when she sensed someone else entering the room. She looked up, swiveled her head.

  Walking up the aisle was a short, ebony-skinned elderly woman. Attired in a green pantsuit, matching flats and an abundance of shimmering gold jewelry, she leaned on a pearl-handled cane as she made her way toward the front.

  Rashad stood and offered his arm. “Let me help you to your seat, Mrs....”

  The woman offered a soft smile as she accepted his assistance. “Parker. Julianne Parker. Thank you, young man.”

  Once Mrs. Parker was seated a couple of chairs to the right of Rashad, she leaned her cane against the next seat.

  Lina kept her gaze on her phone as Mrs. Parker chatted with Rashad. She could hear snippets of their conversation, and it seemed Mrs. Parker was also there for the piano. Lina sighed under her breath. Just how many people would she be competing against to get the damn piano, anyway?

  The room began to fill with people as the start of the auction drew nearer. As seats around her began to fill, Lina set her phone to vibrate and tucked it away. Looking around the room, she took in the faces of the other bidders. She had no way of knowing how many of them would also be going after the piano.

  The sound of Rashad’s humming invaded her thoughts. Hearing that throaty sound reminded her of how well he could sing. Truth be told, the brother could blow. He had a killer tenor that reminded her of a cross between Luther Vandross and Miguel—the kind of voice that made a woman’s panties just fall off. She could clearly recall the late nights he’d serenaded her as she lay in his strong arms.

  She glanced over at him, and he flashed one of his unforgettable megawatt grins in her direction.

  She sank down into her chair.

  It was going to be a long night.

  * * *

  Rashad glanced across the aisle at Lina, who looked as if she wanted to disappear. She seemed uncomfortable with running into him; he, on the other hand, was thrilled to see her. He’d been all set to come here tonight and put all his focus on winning the bid for the piano. Having her here simply m
eant he could accomplish two goals at the same time.

  She was gorgeous in the figure-hugging sleeveless dress she wore. The slit up the side was parted now, allowing him a full view of her long, beautiful bronze legs. She sat demurely, legs crossed like any good belle would do. Her short-cropped hair was carefully coiffed and curled into the edgy style that framed her lovely angular face so perfectly. She wore very little makeup, and as always, his eyes were drawn to the shiny, plum-colored lip gloss she favored.

  He could clearly recall the slightly sweet flavor of that lip gloss from the last time he’d kissed her. That had been months ago. Far too long for his tastes. The longer he looked at her, the more his groin tightened with desire. There was something about the way she carried herself that drove him mad with wanting. Now that she was here, sharing the same space with him, he wanted her just as badly as he wanted Monk’s piano.

  What if he could have them both, make them both his in one night? Wouldn’t that be something?

  In his mind’s eye, he saw himself sitting on the bench, in front of the grand piano, his hands poised above the keys. On top of the polished lacquer surface of the piano’s top, he saw Lina. Dressed in a teal sequined dress that barely grazed the tops of her shapely thighs, she lay on her stomach, facing him. The swell of her breasts threatening to spill out of the dress, she fixed him with a come-hither stare that set his blood on fire. Her round hips and shapely long legs, capped by a pair of sexy heels, drew his appreciative gaze. She was seduction personified. A woman so fiery and passionate that she put all others to shame.

  The auctioneer appeared behind the oak podium, and banged a gavel. The loud thumping pulled Rashad out of his fantasyland and back into the present. Shaking off the remnants of his daydream, he grabbed his paddle from the empty seat next to him and turned his attention to the front of the room.

  It soon became obvious that Monk’s piano would not be the first item to be sold. Rashad sat through the bidding on various paintings, furniture pieces and antiques, wondering when they would finally get around to it. Mrs. Parker placed and won a few bids, but he found he couldn’t muster any excitement for any of the other pieces. All the while, he stole glances at Lina, who seemed just as disinterested in the other items as he was.

  “Now, we’d like to offer this embellished baby grand piano, played by the great musician Thelonious Monk early on in his career. The piano comes to us from the estate of a personal friend of Mr. Monk’s. We’re told Henry Minton gave it as a birthday gift to Mr. Monk. Henry owned Minton’s Playhouse in Harlem, where Monk developed his signature style as a member of the house band in the 1940s. The piano is gold embellished and was imported from Italy. It is in top condition, and is a rare find. We’ll open the bidding at ten thousand dollars.”

  Rashad raised his paddle, and saw several others in the room go up, including those of Lina and Mrs. Parker.

  “Do I hear ten thousand five hundred?”

  More of the same.

  “Eleven? Eleven thousand, five hundred? Twelve thousand...”

  Rashad kept up with the lightning pace of the bidding, raising his paddle at every bid. As the dollar amount rose, the number of bidders began to drop off. By the time the auctioneer reached fifteen thousand, the only three paddles remained raised were Lina’s, Mrs. Parker’s and his own.

  The three of them continued the bidding at a breakneck pace, passing seventeen thousand, then eighteen thousand, and then nineteen thousand dollars.

  Before Rashad could raise his paddle to bid twenty-one thousand, however, Mrs. Parker grabbed the handle of her cane and got to her feet.

  Her brown eyes flashing, the older woman called out a bid. “Twenty-five thousand.”

  On the other side of the aisle, Lina countered. “Twenty-seven thousand, five hundred.”

  Rashad stood. “Thirty thousand.”

  A short, narrow man in a blue suit stepped up onto the stage, holding a piece of paper in his hand. He passed the paper to the auctioneer, who then said into the microphone, “Excuse me a moment.”

  Rashad waited in silence with the others as the auctioneer read the note.

  The auctioneer spoke again. “We have a call-in bid of forty thousand dollars on the table from an anonymous bidder.”

  Mrs. Parker raised her paddle as if she meant to make another offer, but the auctioneer stopped her.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. We’ve gone well over the time allotted for this item, and we have many others to get to. We’ll verify the call-in bid, and if it can’t be secured, we’ll resume bidding on the piano tomorrow evening.”

  Rashad dropped into his seat, groaning. Either he’d just lost the piano, or he’d have to do this all over again tomorrow night. Whatever the case, things had not gone as he’d wanted them to.

  He looked across to Lina, and saw her gathering her purse. While he might not have gotten Monk’s piano, there was nothing stopping him from talking to her before she left.

  He watched her walk down the center aisle and out the door in the back of the room, then followed her.

  In the hallway, she turned her head and saw him, but didn’t stop walking.

  He didn’t stop, either, and he followed her out the door of the auction house and into the muggy evening air.

  The sun was hanging low, but had not yet set. She stopped by the driver’s side door of her car and turned to him. “Rashad, why are you following me?”

  He smiled in response to the pointed question. “I think the answer to that is pretty obvious, baby.”

  She rolled her eyes and opened the car door. Flinging her wrap off and tossing it into the passenger seat, she snapped back, “Don’t call me baby.”

  “I’ll call you whatever you want me to. All I ask is that you hear me out, just for a moment.”

  Her frown softened just a bit. She stepped away from him, moving so that the opened driver-side door of her car was between them. “What is it?”

  He locked eyes with her. “I want another chance with you.”

  Chapter 3

  Lina could feel her heart pounding in her chest like thunder. She blinked, sucked in a breath. But that only served to fill her nostrils with the woodsy, masculine scent of Rashad’s cologne. A shiver went through her body as she recalled the way that scent had smelled, clinging to her skin and to her bedding.

  She raised her gaze and found him watching her in silence. Every bit of good sense she possessed abandoned her as she looked into his dark eyes. He was entirely too much man, and she couldn’t help but be mesmerized by him.

  His soft lips parted. “Have a drink with me. I know a little place not far from here. You can follow me there, what do you say?”

  Before she could think, the response fell out of her mouth. “Yes.” The moment she heard herself say it, she cringed, knowing it was too late to take it back.

  He was already striding away, toward his pickup truck parked a few spaces away. “Great. I’ll drive slowly so you won’t lose me in downtown traffic.”

  Resigning herself to go along with him as agreed, she climbed into her car, closed the door and buckled up. By the time she started the engine, he was already idling at the curb, ready to pull out into the road. She eased her car up behind his big truck and waited.

  It took about ten minutes to arrive at the “little place” he’d spoken of, a bar called Shout Down Babylon. He parked in an empty spot right in front of the entrance, and she slipped into one a few spots over. By the time she’d unbuckled her belt, he opened her door and extended his hand to help her out of the car.

  She took his offered hand and climbed out. Once her vehicle was secured, she followed him inside the small, one-story brick building.

  The interior of the bar was smoky, as she’d expected. She could tell from the pungent scent that most of the people inside were smoking cigars or pip
es instead of cigarettes. The wood paneled walls were covered with neon signs advertising beers and liquor, as well as a few battered license plates and sporting equipment. Among the artifacts were several photos of Bob Marley, Sean Paul, Mad Lion and various other performers of reggae, dancehall and soca music. One sign in particular caught her attention. She read the sign aloud. “Welcome to Bull Country. Warning: Bears Shot on Sight.” Shaking her head at the old athletic rivalry between two local universities, she raised herself onto one of the padded leather stools.

  Rashad simply sat next to her, at his towering six foot two inches of height he didn’t need to stretch or stand on his toes to sit on a bar stool. As the bartender approached, he ordered a root beer.

  When the bartender turned to her, Lina said, “I’ll have a ginger ale with lemon, please.” She knew better than to drink alcohol. It was hard enough for her to resist Rashad while sober. The last thing she needed right now was to make a stupid mistake with him, one she couldn’t take back.

  With his bottle of root beer in hand, he asked casually, “How have you been?”

  She offered a soft smile. “Pretty good. Actually, I just found out yesterday that I made senior partner at the firm.”

  His easy grin broadened, his eyes lighting up as if to express his genuine happiness. “That’s great, congratulations! I know you’ve wanted that partner spot for a long time.”

  She felt the blush creeping into her cheeks as he raised his bottle in her direction. She remembered the talks they’d had during their brief time as a couple. While he hadn’t been very forthcoming with details of his life, she’d openly shared her hopes and dreams with him.

  He took a long draw from his bottle.

  She squirted lemon into her soda and sipped from her own glass, noticing the awkward silence that had fallen between them. To break it up, she asked, “How about you? What have you been up to since I last saw you?”