I bit back a smile. This was more like it. “Are you saying you feel uncomfortable with me getting too close?”
“I’m not intimidated by rock hard abs and imposing biceps.”
“Clearly.”
She lifted her chin and poked my pec. Like a pebble thrown against a rock face, I didn’t react. “You don’t scare me,” she whispered.
“I should.”
“You think because you grumble and wear a mask that you can intimidate me?”
“No.” I stopped my tactic and used my work voice. “But as your Maestro and composer, you should show some respect.” Her jaw swayed in the wind, so I kept talking. “And how would you like it if I came up to you and tried to take off your shirt?”
“That’s hardly the same,” she said with haughty disdain.
“It’s not?”
“No, you’re half naked and—” A blush burned her cheeks as she spoke.
“Because I’m not fully dressed, I deserve your unwanted touches?”
As soon as the words processed, her face drained off color and her shoulders slumped. Okay, maybe I’d gone too far, but I had a point to prove.
“No, I would never blame … I wasn’t trying—”
“I know you weren’t,” I said to take away some of the pain I inflicted.
Her brows drew together in seriousness. She took a deep breath as she stepped back. The cool air rushed in between us, immediately leaving me surprisingly cold.
“I’m sorry.” Her focus shifted to the floor. “You’re right. I apologize, Maestro.”
The words cut as they’d intended to. I had gone too far. I was still learning the balance of authority without hurting people. Typically, I failed. This was why face-to-face conversations were troublesome.
“You can call me Devlin.” I glanced to the side. I didn’t want animosity between us. I only wanted boundaries. “While we’re here. Away from everyone at work.”
“Okay. Why do you call me Kim?”
I knew what she was really asking—how I knew her as Kim and not Christine—but I played dumb. “Tell me what I should call you.”
She hesitated. “Christine is fine.” She lifted her hands to smooth her ponytail. “Or Kim. It doesn’t matter. I answer to both. But honestly, whatever. You pick.” She laughed nervously.
“What do you prefer?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t care.”
“Pick one.” Her indecisiveness was frustrating. If she was going to help me, she had to learn to stand up to me. I stepped closer.
She stepped back. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Kim or Christine?” Closer.
Back. “Fine. Kim. Kim is good.”
“Wasn’t that hard, was it?”
But it was for her. Her chest heaved up and down and the exposed skin at her neck was splotchy with stress. The same as it had been when she had performed her solo. Even her eyes were glossy. I’d gone too far once again. I felt like a jackass. I had only been trying to get her to push me back.
“I’m sorry—” I stepped forward to comfort her.
The action had her lurching back again, but she had reached the end of the short platform. Her heel was off the edge. Her arms wind-milled for purchase where there was none. In slow motion, she started to fall backward. I reached out as her arms shot forward to wrap around my neck. Our bodies slammed together. You couldn’t slide a piece of paper between us.
“Oh dear!” Her hands shot to her mouth, causing her to fall back again. I had to twist with her in my arms to keep us both from losing purchase. Her face buried into my chest to hide. I thought her humiliation was the reason, but after a second, her shoulders began to shake and it seemed alarmingly like …
“Are you laughing?” I asked, with skin still searing from our contact.
“I’m sorry.” She choked out a laugh-snort.
“You are laughing.” The sweet sound instantly soothed me. I found my own smile start to grow.
“I don’t mean to be. It’s just so inappropriate. I molested you. How am I supposed to ever look at you in rehearsal?”
“You’re laughing harder.” I wondered if she could hear my matching smile.
Her whole body shook in my arms and started to crumple forward.
“I’m sorry—I’m nervous. This is me freaking out.”
“You’re an odd duck,” I said softly.
“Said the man in the mask.” She laughed harder. “God, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening.”
She fell so that she was crouched, almost hugging her knees, and I was forced to let go of her. I carefully pushed her back from the edge of the platform. I knelt down to see her bright cheeks unsuccessfully hidden behind her hands.
“Are you going to be okay?” I asked in a teasing tone.
“I’ll survive somehow.” Her voice was muffled. She looked up and dropped her hands, revealing a dazzling smile. The air was sucked out of my chest. I blinked away and rocked back to give her space.
There was an assumed reputation with conductors. Especially younger male conductors. We flew all over the world depending on where our agents got us the best positions, and we were known for “cellos in different codes,” as it were. I, however, had a strict and relentless no-physical-relationships policy. No relationships, period. The mask was not only to protect myself, but also to keep a very specific barrier between myself and those who played for me.
“Okay.” She gained her composure with a deep breath. “Maybe we should talk about why I’m here.”
Chapter 10
If you trip through an entrance, get the hell back up.
KIM
At first, I thought maybe the weird exhaustion from the night before was to blame for my odd actions. Now I’d clearly lost my damn mind. Devlin had always intimidated me. More than anybody I had ever worked with or for. But he’d never scared me. I knew that was what he wanted with the mask and the cranky-pants temper, but all it did was make me want to get to know him more. He was a puzzle that needed to be solved. Sadly, my attempt to not show fear while simultaneously being completely embarrassed and confused came out as nervous laughter. I was officially a hot mess.
Maestro.
He had reminded me. There was a dynamic. And not a kinky, fantasy role-playing sex dynamic. Gah! Why did I even make that analogy? Okay. Focus. No more fumbling, just answers.
“Have you made your decision?” he asked avoiding my own question.
“No. Not yet.”
He blinked at me. It was really hard to read someone’s emotions when they only showed a quarter of their face. It was either squinty eyes or wide eyes. That being said, weren’t the eyes supposed to be the windows to the soul? In Devlin’s case, his window was closed. Or winterized. No. These windows were covered in blackout curtains. Okay, I needed to stop making analogies.
Thankfully, the mask faux pas seemed to have been forgotten. His words weren’t so terse. Why was he wearing that damn mask? Why was I so drawn to it? Why was I so desperate to take it off? I had always been at the mercy of my curiosity. No. Focus. Maestro could fire me. Be a good cellist.