My Special Angel Read online

  He reached up and tugged at his tie. “Neil Diamond, hmmm?” His voice was teasing soft as he leaned across the table and whispered, “What would you do if you had three glasses?”

  Nadia felt herself relax into the chair. This was the Owen she had wanted to get to know tonight. If she was only going to allow herself one date with him, she wanted it to be perfect. A wide grin spread across her face as she whispered back, “I’m told I do a great impersonation of Madonna.”

  Owen’s rich laughter caused more than a few heads to turn and stare at the couple halfway hidden by lush green leaves.

  * * *

  Nadia leaned against the screen door and smiled up at Owen. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

  He placed one palm against the metal doorframe above her head while the fingers on the other hand gently played with a thick dark curl lying against her shoulder. “You’re welcome.” He tenderly cupped her chin and studied her face in the light illuminating the porch. Even under the harsh glare of the yellow bug light, she was breathtakingly beautiful. “Have dinner with me tomorrow?”

  She tried to look away, but his fingers wouldn’t release her chin. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  “The next night?”

  Nadia shook her head. “Please, Owen, don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” His brown eyes held nothing but confusion.

  “Don’t end this evening with an argument.” She took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart. “You’re very nice, Owen, and I had a wonderful time tonight.”

  “But?”

  “I never should have accepted this date. It’s all wrong.”

  “Why didn’t you cancel it, then?”

  “I tried three times.” She glanced over his shoulder at the moon and the gentle swaying branches of the giant oaks in the distance. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  His fingers tenderly stroked the satiny texture of her cheek. “Why couldn’t you?”

  “To be perfectly honest with you, I find you extremely attractive.” She frowned at the loose knot of Owen’s tie and gathered all her strength. “I just can’t see you again. It’s too tempting.”

  His arms fell to his side, and he jammed both of his hands onto his hips. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. You aren’t seeing anyone else, you find me extremely attractive, you had a wonderful time tonight, but you won’t go out with me again.”

  It sounded stupid even to her own ears. She tried a new approach. “We just aren’t meant for each other, Owen. I’m sorry.”

  He jammed his fingers through his hair and paced to the other end of the porch. He glanced toward the heavens and muttered either a curse or a prayer before storming his way back to her. His gaze locked on the delicate trembling of her lower lip. The same lip that had been tempting him all night with its lush redness and sweet promises.

  Nadia felt her whole world shake as his finger gently traced her lower lip. She should leave and go into the house, but her feet weren’t receiving the urgent message her brain was sending. The traitors were listening to her misguided heart. Heat scorched her lungs, making breathing an impossibility, as he moved closer. The forthcoming kiss was in his eyes. She could see its heat, practically taste its sweetness, and feel its power. She wanted that kiss. Even as her brain was shouting, Run, her body was leaning forward.

  Owen tenderly cupped her face and lightly covered her mouth with his own. His body shook against the restraint he had forced upon it.

  Nadia melted under his tender onslaught. Her hands rose of their own accord and encircled his neck. She pressed herself against his strength and deepened the kiss with a seductive stroke of her tongue. One moment he was as gentle as a newborn kitten, and the next, the untamed hunger of a wild lion broken free. Nadia reveled in the uncivilized side of Owen. She met him stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss. The more he demanded, the more she gave. Her breasts swelled with need, and liquid heat pooled in her stomach and overflowed to the juncture between her thighs.

  She felt his warm hands tenderly cup her hips and pull her closer. A groan escaped her throat as his arousal pressed against the gentle swell of her abdomen. Hell itself couldn’t generate this much heat. Passion throbbed between her legs as she broke the kiss and moaned his name. “Owen?”

  He strung a line of kisses up her jaw to the edge of her ear. He nipped lightly at the delicate lobe and toyed with the small golden hoop earring with his breath. “How could you say we aren’t meant for each other?”

  Nadia lowered her head to his chest and willed the tears not to come. She could feel the rapid hammering of his heart through the white silk shirt and knew hers was just as fast. What had she done? She never should have kissed Owen. It could only complicate matters. She backed out of his arms and gripped the handle of the screen door behind her. She needed something to hold on to. “I’m sorry, Owen. That shouldn’t have happened.”

  “But it did.” His breathing was harsh, and his eyes glimmered with frustration. What was she running from? “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel it too.”

  Nadia kept her gaze pinned to his billowing chest as she pulled open the screen door and twisted the knob of the inner door. It was safer not to answer that question. “I have to go in now.” The blackness of the kitchen engulfed her as she stepped over the threshold.

  Owen gripped the frame of the screen door but didn’t follow her in. “I’m not giving up, Nadia.”

  She sadly shook her head and started to close the door. “I won’t change my mind.”

  He scowled at the closed door and muttered, “We’ll see.” How could she be so blind as not to see what was happening between them? He gently closed the screen door and thought. Whatever was bothering Nadia had to do with the mysterious comment she made yesterday about being bad. What could she possibly have done that was so terrible—cheat at tarot cards, fail crystal-ball reading, or misread someone’s palm? Whatever it was, he just didn’t care. He wasn’t about to walk away from the best thing that had ever happened to him. He scowled once more at the closed door before walking back to his car and driving away.

  Nadia heard his car pull away and wiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. She had no right to feel sorry for herself. She knew it would never work from the beginning. It was better to end it now than later, when Owen would despise her. Her hand swiped at another tear. He had absolutely no right to kiss her like that. He was a southern gentleman and should have kissed like one, all stuffy and formal, not as sweet as heaven and hot as Hades.

  She had more important things to think about than dream lovers and unquenched desires. She had her music. She leaned against the door, closed her eyes, and willed the music to soothe her tattered soul.

  Five seconds later her eyes flew open. She glanced around the darkened kitchen, terrified. Her mind was a complete blank. There were no serene sounds or tranquil melodies. No magical lyrics or foot-tapping tunes bombarding her mind for a song of their own. There was only an emptiness. Her mother and Sofia had been right. The music had stopped. Owen had stolen her music.

  Chapter Four

  Owen glanced up from the stack of papers scattered across his desk as his study door opened. A huge grin spread across his face at the woman ducking under Sebastian’s arm and sprinting into his office. “Nadia!” He jumped to his feet. She had come to him.

  “Sir, I’m terribly sorry for this...” said the embarrassed-looking butler.

  “It’s okay, Sebastian. Ms. Kandratavich is welcome anytime.” Owen raised his eyebrows in astonishment at the woman standing in front of him. “How did you slip past Sebastian?” The butler had been with the family for more than thirty years, and she was the first person who had ever managed to make it past him. The stiff and imposing Sebastian had always reminded Owen of a formidable guard dog, but he obviously cared very deeply for Aunt Verna.

  Nadia glanced at the stone-faced butler and offered a small smile. “I used one of your football plays. I faked left and
went right.

  Owen suppressed his chuckle as Sebastian bowed slightly to Nadia in acknowledgment and asked, “Is there anything else, sir?”

  “No, that will be all. Thanks.” He dismissed the butler and concentrated on the fiery woman in front of him. Her hair was long and flowing, and the flush of excitement tinted her cheeks with a warm glow. She looked vibrantly alive and happy. “Nadia?”

  She turned to Owen’s voice, and her smile instantly died. A fierce crease pulled at her brow, and she placed both hands flat on the desk and demanded, “I want it back, immediately!” Playing dodge-the-butler with the formidable-looking Sebastian had been fun, but now it was time to settle up on some business.

  Owen blinked. “What back?”

  Nadia clenched her teeth together and leaned in closer. “My music.” Five days of total silence had driven her to this. Five days of nothing but eerie silence. Not one note, one fleeting melody, or one inspiring line of a cute lyric had crossed her mind in five endless days and sleepless nights. She had no idea how he’d taken it, only that he had. The music had been there during dinner, and even on the drive home she could remember the melodies mixing with the cool summer night’s breeze and Owen’s deep laughter over some silly story she had told him from her childhood. The music had been there until he had stolen it with a kiss.

  “What music?”

  She raised her voice and shouted, “My music.” Was he deaf?

  Owen frowned and sat down in the soft leather chair he had just vacated. “You lost your music, and you think I took it.”

  “I don’t think, Owen, I know.”

  “When did you lose it?”

  “I had it when I went to dinner with you the other night, but it was gone after you dropped me off.”

  He ran a tired hand over his face and thought. “Don’t panic, Nadia. It has to be around somewhere. What was it, sheet music, a cassette, what?” He reached for the phone. “I’ll call the restaurant and see if someone has found it.” He started punching out numbers. “Maybe you dropped it in my car, and it slid under the seat.” He jabbed the last number. “Why in the hell were you carrying something that valuable on you?” His voice trailed off as Nadia’s finger reached over the desk and pushed the button to disconnect the phone call.

  Nadia glanced at his puzzled expression and wondered how in the world she was going to explain about the music. With a heavy sigh she said, “Put down the phone, Owen. The music’s not at the Foxchase Country Club.” She slowly walked over to the French doors and stared out across the slate patio. Precision-cut hedges partially obscured the view of the sparkling swimming pool on the right, huge potted plants overflowed concrete urns, discreet benches dotted the lawn, and the high chain-link fence could be glimpsed off to the left, marking the tennis courts. Owen’s home was more of a country club than Foxchase.

  She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the door and closed her eyes. “The music was in my head.”

  “If it was in your head, how did you lose it?”

  “I wish I knew.” Nadia sighed. She turned around and shrugged her shoulders. Nothing had gone right in the past five days. IRS had broken out of the corral twice, two great job prospects for her father and Uncle Rupa had fallen through, and this morning her mother had told her that her brother Mikol hadn’t been seen in two days. The only thing she had accomplished in the past five days were some translations of a couple of other songs that were already written. It was a difficult and slow process, translating words to fit the same melody in six different languages, but she was bound and determined not only to fulfill the contract but to meet the option clause. The extra money could go a long way toward purchasing a used tractor for the ranch and acquiring a couple of brood mares for IRS to mate with. All that was missing was one last song. She had to get back the music before October, when she was supposed to start recording.

  “How do you figure I’m the one who caused you to lose it?”

  “Because it was there before you kissed me.”

  It took a moment before a huge grin lit up Owen’s face, and his eyes sparkled with delight. “Are you saying that I kissed the music straight out of your head?”

  She frowned at the gleam in his eye. He didn’t have to look so damn pleased. Her chin tilted up an inch, and she held her ground as Owen stood up. “All I am saying is, it was there before you kissed me.”

  Owen tried to tamp down his grin but failed utterly. “I’ve never been accused of kissing someone’s music away before.”

  “It wasn’t just music, Owen. It is my livelihood”—her voice cracked with tension—“and the sole means of support for my entire family.”

  The grin vanished instantly. She wasn’t joking. Whatever creative process was involved in her songwriting had been stopped. Her future as an international children’s singer was in jeopardy. He took a couple of steps toward her and reached for her hand. “I’m sorry, Nadia. I don’t mean to make light of the situation, but I’m having trouble connecting my kissing you to your losing the music in your head.”

  “If you think you’re having a hard time, imagine it from my side. One simple dinner date, that’s all it was supposed to be. No dancing, no dark movie theaters, nothing but food and conversation for a couple of hours.” She glanced down at the intertwined fingers and frowned. Her hand looked so small and helpless compared with his. She wondered what it would feel like to allow Owen’s strength to support her. She released his hand and took a safe step back away from the temptation. “I asked myself what could one date hurt?” She shrugged her shoulders and made a vain attempt to laugh at her own foolishness.

  He leaned his hip against the side of the desk and tried to think logically. “Maybe what you are suffering from is writer’s block?”

  “I’m not a writer, Owen. I’m a musician. I hear music.” She gestured wildly around the room with her hands. “Normally I could stand in this room and hear the music it plays for me.”

  “Rooms play music for you?”

  Nadia glanced around the spacious study and groaned. “See the rich, dark wood?” She waved to the paneled walls and the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. “They hum to me.” She moved her hand toward the French doors. “The gentle sunlight streaming into the room makes a light, airy sound. Your desk would give off your presence, and the paperwork and blueprints will build in volume parroting what you do, you create and build.” Her hands fell helplessly by her side in frustration. “Everything in this room would sing, hum, or serenade me.”

  “Won’t it be hard to separate all the different sounds?”

  “No.” She relaxed slightly. At least he hadn’t laughed. “It’s just like decorating. The walls, the books, the desk, even the curtains—all pull together and create one room. When I listen, I hear one melody, created by all the things.”

  Owen glanced around his office in amazement. He never thought about music like that. Curiously he asked, “What do you hear now?”

  Nadia followed his gaze and concentrated. She clasped her hands together in front of her and closed her eyes as tears flooded them. “I hear nothing but your voice.” She slowly opened her eyes and willed the tears away.

  He couldn’t stand the look of total defeat etched into her face. Breaking his resolve not to crowd her, he gently pulled her into his arms and held her close. “Don’t worry—we’ll find your music.”

  Nadia allowed herself the luxury of relying on his strength for just one moment. She was tired, scared, and at the end of her rope. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his sturdy shoulder. Cool cotton pressed against the warm skin of her cheek, and the tantalizing scent of Owen’s cologne mixed with the lemony scent of fabric softener filled her nostrils. Warm hands lightly smoothed her back, granting her a moment of security. Maybe with Owen’s help she would find her music. Owen was indeed a rare and impressive man. He had understood about the music. She buried her face deeper and sighed.

  His fingers tightened on her back and into her hair as her wistful
sigh ripped at his heart. She had been so brave coming to him and demanding her music back. He would gladly have given it to her, if only he knew how. Owen tenderly cupped her jaw and tilted up her face. His gaze settled on the liquid pools gathered in her eyes. A fleeting smile teased the corners of his mouth as an idea came to him. “Are you positive my kiss took the music?”

  “Positive? Not really, but it’s the only thing I could come up with.” She leaned away from the comfort of Owen’s chest and swiped the back of her hand over her eyes. “Why?”

  His teasing smile turned a little more rakish. “Suppose I kiss you again. Do you think the music will return?”

  She pushed against his chest with her hands. “How would I know?” Owen’s embrace tightened. “I didn’t even know that a kiss would steal it.”

  “We could try again.”

  Nadia glanced wildly around the room. “Try what again?”

  “A kiss.” He kept his one arm around her and gently captured her chin with his other hand. “One simple kiss, Nadia, that’s all.” His thumb stroked the fullness of her lower lip. “What could it harm?”

  Was he crazy? His first kiss had stolen her music; this one just might steal her soul. “I don’t know, Owen. It could be dangerous.” Huge, dark eyes stared up and begged him to understand.

  “Dangerous? Maybe.” He knew exactly what another kiss could be dangerous to: his sanity. The taste of Nadia five days ago had been slowly torturing him as he lay in his lonely bed night after night. “But if a kiss could take the music, it might also bring it back.” His gaze settled on her mouth. “True?”