Liron's Melody by Brieanna Robertson Page B

even want to know what I look like. Those women practically stripped
me and shoved me into that tub.”
    He chuckled and tipped her chin up so he could get the black
from under her eyes. They captured him and some of the irritation in them
warmed into a slow-burning desire. His gaze traveled from her eyes to her lips,
full and soft and begging for attention. He lowered his head toward her,
abandoning the process of wiping off her makeup. She slid her hands up the
front of his chest, encouraging him, drawing him closer.
    He closed his eyes and took her face in his hands, leaning
forward and down to reach her lips, which had become the object of his obsession
over the past twenty-four hours. She tilted her chin up to him, welcoming his
advance.
    She wavered beneath his touch and let out a startled shriek
as she started to lose her balance and tilt backward. Reflexively, she grasped
a handful of his shirt to steady herself, and succeeded in pulling him so far
forward he couldn’t catch himself in time. He barely had a chance to shout
before he toppled over her and sent them both over the edge of the tub and back
into the lukewarm water.
    Melody got the worst of it, being completely submerged under
his body weight while he flailed around like a fish out of water trying to
right himself. He flipped over so as not to drown her and landed in the water
backside first with his legs curling over the side of the tub. Melody emerged,
coughing and sputtering, looking more despondent than the first time.
    They looked at one another, and Liron suppressed a wince,
sure she was going to be furious at him. But to his surprise, a warm smile
curved her lips and she started to laugh softly. “I’m beginning to think
kissing you is a bad idea.”
    He chuckled and shook his head. He extracted himself from the
tub and reached a hand out to help her out as well. As she stood, the towel she
had been wearing slipped off in a waterlogged heap, and he squeezed his eyes
shut with a groan he couldn’t have contained if he’d tried.
    To Melody’s credit, she didn’t razz him about it. She moved
around him while he strategically kept his eyes closed, passing with a soft
touch on his arm.
    A few seconds later, an aggravated curse drew his attention,
followed by her exclaimed, “Are you freaking kidding me?”
    He opened his eyes and turned to where she stood in a skimpy,
two-piece, purple outfit he usually only saw belly dancers wear. Tiny, silver
bells adorned the flimsy, sheer skirt and tinkled when Melody moved.
    For a moment, as his body flamed beyond a temperature he
thought was healthy, he wondered if maybe having her in this outfit was worse
than having her naked.
    “What is this all about?” she cried in obvious exasperation.
    He swallowed hard and tried to tear his attention away from
her flat, toned stomach. “The girl who assisted you must be a dance muse,” he
responded absently while his gaze traveled from her stomach down to her long
legs barely visible through the gauzy skirt.
    “Well la-dee-da!” she cried. “I’m not an anything muse and I
look like some sort of gypsy hooker!”
    He chuckled and moved forward to take her hands in his and
draw her close. “I have seen many women in my time,” he murmured against her
ear. “And never have they made me burn the way you do.” He pressed a gentle
kiss to her jawline before pulling back to look into her eyes. “You do not look
like a gypsy hooker.” She let out a disgruntled growl, and he reached up to
push a few damp strands of hair off of her face. “If it makes you feel any
better whatsoever, my entire midsection is soaked through.”
    She glanced down at the band of wet across his torso and hips
and giggled.
    He shook his head and held his hand out to her. “This is
hardly what I had in mind when I decided to take you on your date.”
    She grinned and placed her delicate hand in his. Long,
slender fingers, a true musician’s hand. “What, you mean an absent-minded