A Little Night Music

by A. E. Easterlin

  Yeah—let’s do.

  “Let’s start with this. I told you the other night that in order to see you I’d have to touch you.” He ran his hands up her arms to rest gently on her shoulders.

  She nodded, then remembered she didn’t yet know just how much he could see. “Yes.” Breathless. Her chest rising and falling in anticipation.

  “Good. Just relax. Close your eyes and trust me. The sensory nerves in my fingertips read what they touch. I had twenty-twenty vision before I was hurt, so I have a good frame of reference. When I touch you, a picture of what I’m touching travels to my brain. I see what my fingers and my brain tell me to see. Ready? I’ve been told it can be a rather pleasant experience.”

  Beginning at the top of her head, his hands ran through her hair, over the planes of her face. Gently, as if he were absorbing her image through the tactile exploration of his fingers. Softly grazing her skin, they traced the structure of her nose, over her cheekbones, the shells of her ears, line of jaw, lips. “Seeing” her.

  Her breath escaped in a long sigh. Pleasant was an understatement. The sensation was sweet and erotic. Intimate. Her heart fluttered, and heat pooled in the valley between her breasts. Standing perfectly still, she didn’t move a muscle as she allowed his touch. Hypnotized. Mesmerized. If she were a cat, she would be purring by now.

  “Beautiful. I knew you would be.” Cash’s fingers tangled in her thick hair. He brought a thick strand to his nose and inhaled. “Short. That surprises me. I would have thought with such luxurious hair it would be long. The texture is soft—with the fragrance of flowers. Jasmine? Lavender?”

  “Lilly of the Valley. There’s a shop downtown that sells it.”

  “Beautiful. What color is it?”

  Her voice, breathy and low, answered him. “I’m letting it grow. I guess you’d say it’s light brown. But the sun makes it lighter in the summer. Right now it’s a combination of the two.”

  “Ah, sunlight. Thought so.” He buried his nose behind her ear and inhaled. “You smell like sunlight and flowers. I’ll recognize you anywhere now. You’re very kind to allow this. Does it make you feel strange? To have my hands exploring you like this?”

  “Yes…No. It’s actually very nice.”

  Cash nodded letting his hands trail over her collarbone, down her chest to stop at the beginning swell of her breast.

  Kate’s arms shot up to stop him—instinctively protective. She pushed against his embrace, a desperate cry of dismay escaping her lips. If she’d been able to break free, she would probably have decked him and run screaming from the room.

  No man, no matter how appealing, no matter how intense the attraction, was going to touch her there. Not that place. No man, other than her doctor, had put his hands on her scars.

  Her distress must surely be obvious.

  The flicker of a frown crossed his expression. She read the instant understanding in his face. It wouldn’t take a genius to know she wanted to put a halt to any further touching. Cash was no dummy.

  “It’s okay. Shh… I won’t go further,” he breathed. “You ran when we danced. I was getting too close, wasn’t I? If I did what I want to do right now, there’s no telling what you’d do. Someday you’ll realize you can trust me. Whatever was done to you by some other man has no bearing on us—on me.”

  Kate bit her lip and waited, her mind spinning like a top. It was all so confusing. She didn’t know this Kate—the one who wanted to repel his advances and jump his bones at the same time.

  Carefully, as if not to spook her, he drew her against him. Her fist clutched the fabric of her blouse in a death grip, as his body trapped her hands between them. She trembled as his hands ran carefully over her back.

  She didn’t let go.

  He didn’t press.

  She caught her breath and held it. Gradually, her body relaxed against him as he stroked her and murmured words of comfort softly in her ear.

  She’d overreacted. He must think her a fool, or at the very least a mental case.

  “If I could put my hands on the man who made you feel this way, I’d pummel him within an inch of his life.”

  “And I’d let you,” she answered.

  “Are you all right? I won’t hurt you, Kate, or push you for more than you’re ready to give, but I’m going to kiss you now.” Barely a whisper—the heat of his breath stirred her in private places, and she found she wanted him to. Very much.

  And Cash proceeded to do just that. Hold her. Kiss her. It was…

  Breathtaking.

  Glorious.

  Arousing.

  More than she’d hoped; everything she’d dreamed.

  Chapter Six

  Was she dreaming or awake?

  It was hard to tell, because the man who starred in her dreams was still on her mind as her eyelids fluttered open and she struggled out of her morning stupor.

  Wow. Cash. The touch. The kiss.

  In one night, he’d breached her defenses and persuaded her to abandon her resolution to keep all members of the male gender at arm’s length. The force of his personality alone vanquished the best of her intentions to avoid romantic entanglements and build a fulfilling life with work and outings with her friends.

  Then yesterday, after he sent Suzanna home, he’d come on strong.

  And she’d given in.

  No rushing. Get to know each other. See where it leads. Saying all the right things. He strategized a good plan.

  The most surprising thing of all? That she’d bought into it and agreed.

  Tomorrow night, at dinner, she’d make sure he understood the ground rules—they’d take things slow.

  She’d look for an opportunity away from Suzanna and clarify their “arrangement.”

  Right.

  The promise of his kiss hung over that resolution like a pendulum. Closer and closer, slicing through her objections and dismembering them one by one. Slow was, after all, merely a matter of degree.

  Enough daydreaming.

  She had a meeting downtown with the Director of Veterans Affairs today. They’d agreed through their assistants to meet for lunch and go over the background and purpose of Stars of Hope, as well as lay the groundwork for working in concert to identify veterans’ families that would most benefit from scholarship monies for students of wounded or deceased servicemen and women. She’d take a portfolio of three upcoming events, complete with venues, food, music, and décor, on a power-point presentation.

  She wanted a military presence at each fundraiser, along with members of some of the families who’d benefited from their foundation in past years, to remind people of the human faces behind the sacrifice. The VA should be able to assist in a critical way. They were at the heart of serving the needs of vets and their families in the community.

  Kate prided herself on organizing dinners that were elegant, effective, and always emotionally charged. She deliberately plied her potential donors with good food, expensive liquor, and words that tugged at their heartstrings. She believed in her cause, and by the end of the events she chaired, the donors did, too. It was impossible to ignore the sacrifice of the men and women who served their country, or the needs of those who returned forever altered. Her point exactly.

  Kate tried to be objective when selecting recipients of their limited funding, but she invariably got more involved than she intended. Having the VA participate in selections helped her maintain a necessary distance and approach her selections with the objectivity that was required.

  Objectivity?

  Who was she kidding? She was into this heart and soul. She felt every need, every worry, every prayer and tear that was shed. This was at the crux of what every man who stood on the wall fought for. Not only freedom but a better life for their kids.

  Her grandfather and father had both been vets. Actually, all the men in her family had served in the armed forces—all the way back to the American Revolution—and she had the documents of ancestry to prove it. Maybe that was at the root of h
er passion. Or maybe it was simply her appreciation for the men and women who gave so much and received so little in return.

  Kate dried her hair, brushed her teeth, and took special care with her make-up. She pulled out a pink lace bra and panties, and adjusted her breast in the cup. The scars were barely visible, and the cleavage looked entirely natural. No one could tell by looking at her that she’d had a breast removed and reconstructed.

  She snorted. No one would know because no one would ever see.

  She dressed in beautiful lingerie because it gave her confidence…and because she loved beautiful undergarments. Not that anyone would see those, either.

  The gray pencil skirt and pink silk blouse fit her like a glove. She’d lost the puffiness caused by the steroids and regained her figure—thank God—with hard work, and had to admit she was pleased with her appearance. Professional without pretention.

  After a quick spritz of her favorite perfume, she grabbed her briefcase and keys and was out the door. Time to light some fires under Uncle Sam—she could use his help.

  Just as she was leaving, her cell rang.

  “Ms. Sanders?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is the VA director’s office, Lieutenant Carswell speaking. The director’s going to be pushed for a quick lunch today, due to an unexpected appointment in the afternoon, and wondered if you could meet at the Veterans’ Administration Offices on Twelfth Street and go to lunch a little earlier than originally planned. Would that work for you?”

  “I don’t see why not. What time will he be free this morning?”

  “About ten—ten thirty?”

  “That works for me. I’ll just shoot into town and head your way. Goodbye.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kate could pitch her ideas and ask for his support, then finish with lunch and head back to her office for the afternoon.

  As she drove, her thoughts drifted toward her neighbor. She couldn’t deny how nice it had felt to be held in his arms. Her gut feeling was that Cash Montgomery was a good guy. He’d taken pains to soothe her feelings, assured her of his trustworthiness, and, last but not least, offered to take on her ex-fiancé on her behalf. That alone earned him points.

  The current Director of Veterans affairs had something in common with Cash. They shared a last name. There must be hundreds of Montgomerys in the phone listings. It wasn’t that unusual a name. Still, wouldn’t it be a hoot if he turned out to be one and the same? Sort of like a “hello, stupid” slap on the head from the forces of the universe. How remarkable would it be? After the chance meeting at one of her favorite night spots, finding out he lived next door was spooky enough. But if Director Montgomery was Cash Montgomery—she might as well raise the white flag now and surrender. That went way beyond coincidence.

  Traffic was a bear. The freeway had cleared of early morning commuters, but the crazies were out in full force. By the time she swung in at the Veterans Administration building, her nerves were frazzled, and Kate always brought butterflies in her tummy with her to a presentation, besides.

  The lobby was almost deserted, and the marble floors echoed the clicking of her heels as she made her way to the elevator. Stopping to check the big directory posted on the wall, Kate noted the office of Veterans Affairs was on the eighth floor.

  The doors opened, and two soldiers politely stood aside for her to enter. Kate saw them give her the once-over and raise their brows.

  “Ma’am.” One of the guys shot her an appreciative nod. The other pursed his lips to hide a smile.

  A little twinge of satisfaction trilled through her body, and an answering warmth rose to her cheeks. She was coming alive again. Thinking things, feeling things, wanting things. Things long buried and forgotten. Girl things. Boy things. The things girls and boys did together.

  She had Cash to thank.

  Whatever had begun on that dance floor the other night had initiated a thaw. Her heart turned over in her chest, and even that felt strange after so many months of numbness. She was comfortable with the hidden, protected Kate, the defensive Kate. Not this Kate. The Kate who noticed when a guy was attracted to her and responded.

  Don’t go there.

  Concentrate on the meeting. She needed the director’s input and support.

  The guys got off on the third floor, and cast a sideways glance. Kate breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes, rehearsing the introduction to her presentation.

  Checking in at the front desk, she noted all of the personnel were dressed in uniform. An older woman sat behind a metal desk that had seen many years of use. Kate approached with a smile and handed her a business card.

  “Good morning. I’m Katherine Sanders, Stars of Hope Foundation. I believe I have an appointment with the VA Director at ten.”

  Calm down.

  The assistant, Lieutenant Carswell, according to the name tag above her right pocket, smiled in a friendly manner.

  “I’ll let the director know you’ve arrived. Would you like to have a seat?” She indicated a bank of unremarkable chairs lining the far wall and pressed a button on her phone set.

  “Sir, your ten o’clock appointment has arrived. Shall I send her in?”

  “Please.” Short, and to the point. A no-nonsense type of man. They should get along well.

  “Yes, sir,” the assistant replied, then stood and nodded at Kate as she pushed open the office door. “The director will see you now.”

  The man sitting behind the desk rose, his hand extended, a warm smile on his face.

  Kate crossed the threshold and froze.

  She absolutely couldn’t believe it. There was no way this could be a coincidence. Somebody had to be playing a trick on her.

  Mouth open, chin slack, she stared, words of greeting caught in her throat.

  The director of Veterans Affairs, the man with whom she hoped to be working on foundation business, the man with whom she would frequently seek meetings, plan events, solicit recipients was…Cash?

  Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the angel on her shoulder. Un-be-liev-able. She felt the kick in her universe and did a mental head shake.

  The small rectangular nameplate on his desk read: Major Charles “Cash” Montgomery. Retired. Director of Veterans Affairs.

  In the tall, dark, and freaking handsome flesh.

  Civvies. Navy trousers, pressed blue shirt, devastating smile. Open, friendly, and incredibly sexy. The ice barrier melted a deeper puddle at her feet. Kate’s briefcase dropped from her fingers—saved by the dexterous Lieutenant Carswell as she glanced between them with a loaded smile. She winked at Kate, sharing unspoken appreciation. He was one hot-looking director.

  Grinning, Lieutenant Carswell handed the briefcase back to Kate and left the room, the closing of the door echoing a click in the silence. Period.

  “Cat got your tongue, Kate?” Laughter poured from his mouth, broad shoulders shaking.

  “You knew?” she asked, her voice rising in disbelief.

  “I do have the collective intelligence of the entire United States government at my disposal.” His grin turned smug.

  “When did you know?” she demanded.

  His eyebrows climbed and wrinkled his forehead.

  “Welcome to the information age.” He nodded to his laptop. “Katherine Sanders, age twenty-nine, graduate of University of Virginia, family money with a bent toward philanthropy, capable head of the Stars of Hope Foundation.” Cash shrugged. “I looked you up last night. Never take a meeting unprepared. Goes against my training.”

  Kate was speechless, thus the silence that ensued.

  “You seem offended by my interest. Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. “The information is all out there—public domain. It wasn’t intended as an intrusion into your personal life.”

  “How did you ‘look me up’? You can’t see.”

  A flush rose on his handsome cheekbones, and she immediately regretted her comment.

  Why was she acting churlish? He’d simply gathered inf
ormation about a possible colleague. Obviously, her overreaction wasn’t warranted, but something about him pushed her buttons. She couldn’t maintain indifference toward him the way she could toward other men.

  His expression remained pleasant. “I have this really neat gizmo—again courtesy of our Uncle Sam—that converts to audio. I hear what others would normally see. Cool device. Not much the visually impaired can’t do nowadays.”

  She relented, embarrassed at her behavior and blew out a breath.

  “I’m sorry. That was inexcusable. Please forgive me. You took me by surprise, that’s all. I suppose I feel a bit blindsided. The other night at Tortilla Joe’s, the dancing, then Suzanna, the way you kissed my hand. An agreed-upon date on Friday. Now this. It’s freaking me out. You have to admit this is…” Her hand circled in the air, the motion expressing her helplessness as words could not.

  She shut her mouth and stood staring at him.

  “Mysterious?” he asked, his head cocked to the side with an enigmatic hint of smile on his face. “Curious? The way we’re being thrown together as if by fate?”

  Kate nodded. “Exactly. We can’t seem to get away from each other.”

  “I’m not trying. My question is, why are you?”

  Cash moved from behind the desk to lean his hip against the front. Feet and arms crossed, he lifted his chin with an indulgent smile.

  “Why freaked out? There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice had the soft rasp of velvet, deep and rich, with an oh-so-soft finish. “So the fates have sent us a message, made sure we didn’t miss each other. That’s a good thing, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not altogether certain.”

  “Yeah, I got that.”

  He pushed off and walked toward her, took her briefcase, and set it on the desk. Laying his warm hands on her tense shoulders, his fingers massaged gently.

  “What are you afraid of? Granted, this might be moving a little fast. But I’m not a kid anymore, I’m a grown man, and I know what I want. I like you, Kate. I like the way you feel—all soft and woman and sweet. Like the way you smell—spring morning after a warm rain. Sunshine. I like your quick wit, acerbic comments, the way you welcomed my daughter into your home and took care of her. The way you look…”