AMelodyinParadise Page 2

  Her long hair fell down the long curve of her back in an auburn cascade. The gold highlights shone in the lights that beat down on the stage. Her black dress did nothing to hide the fact that she had a body any shifter male would be proud to sink his cock into.

  Curvy in all the right places, she was no frail wraith like most of the women these days. She had meat on her bones and that drew the tiger in him like nothing else could have done.

  Her music was that which he’d honed in on when the song started. He looked at her as she played, an expression of complete concentration mixed with something he could only describe as love on her beautiful face.

  This woman was first violin first chair and the woman he and Wyatt had been hearing about for the last several years. In fact, Carmen had tried to set them up with her a few times. She was certain her uncles needed a wife and she wanted her best friend to be it. Nothing would make her happier than making Melody Madison a part of their strange little family.

  Mitch shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. Just looking at the woman made his cock hard. Hell, he hadn’t gotten hard just looking at a woman in fifty or more years. What was it about this human woman that made him want her more than he had wanted any woman for years?

  Do you see the woman on the edge of the stage, Wyatt? The violinist in front, closest to the conductor?

  What about her? Wyatt asked through the mind link they had had for as long as they could remember. Neither of them could remember if they’d had it before their first blood exchange or not. All they knew was that they had exchanged blood regularly to help each other out of binds when they were younger.

  Calling for help while outside of Paradise wasn’t an option when they were younger. The old council would have no one leaving the town without permission. Doing just that was something the two of them had done as often as possible when they were children. They knew they were shifters like those in Paradise, but unlike those in the town, they were tiger shifters, not cougars and jaguars like most of the rest.

  From what they had learned from their adopted parents, they had been found weeks apart in different parts of the country. Blood tests confirmed they weren’t related, though they were both found near the body of a dead female tiger. Presumed dead, no one knew where their fathers were.

  Sometimes he wondered if the council kept such a tight rein on them as children because they feared what they would become. After all, they were tigers. If they desired, they could take out any male shifter in Paradise with their size alone.

  She’s beautiful. I believe she’s that Melody Carmen has been yammering on about for the last few years.

  He felt Wyatt stretch upward in his seat to look over the woman with the big hat sitting in front of him. They should require these old women to take their huge hats off or sit in the back, he groused before he nodded. I see her. You’re right. She is a looker.

  Mitch turned to look at his friend who suddenly wore a strange expression. She brings out something in you, doesn’t she?

  Wyatt nodded. I shouldn’t feel this way for Carmen’s best friend, Mitch. Hell, haven’t we been telling Carmen that we wouldn’t touch her little friend?

  What they felt was right and what their bodies demanded could be two totally different things. If what he suspected was true, Carmen’s little friend just may be their mate.

  What if the scent he’d been picking up on Carmen all of these years had been their mate growing into adulthood, her body preparing itself to breed? He pressed his hands into his lap, trying to control the raging hard-on he sported.

  Mitch sighed as he settled himself in to watch the rest of the concert. Whatever it was that he felt for the woman sitting next to their niece, it wasn’t something he could control and that worried him. The last thing this town needed was a tiger running about town growling at every male who looked at the woman.

  Chapter Three

  As usual, Melody lost herself in the music she played. The music flowed around her, through her like some ethereal thing. Nothing felt more right than when she sat in front of an audience, her instrument in her hand, her fingers flying over the strings as she played whatever piece she worked on at the moment.

  This was as close to heaven as she had ever been. She smiled as she began another solo of the melody. This was better than chocolate. Heck, she’d bet it was even better than sex!

  Nothing made Melody feel the way she did when she knew she played a piece just right, that the notes coming from her instrument blended perfectly with those around her. The music flowed through her like energy, lifting her up, giving her purpose.

  Now that she was alone, now that everyone she’d ever cared about had gone with the exception of Carmen, this was her only comfort, her only home. Music wasn’t just a thing to her, it was a part of her…it was her.

  Melody continued to play the last piece, her Stradivarius seeming weightless as she moved the bow in perfect unison with her fingers. Tears rolled down her face as the beauty of the song continued to flow around her.

  Sometimes as she played, Melody wondered what the composers thought, what they felt as they wrote their sonatas and concertos, their long symphonies. How did they do it? Were they ill or melancholy or did they just know how to tap into those emotions in others without affecting themselves?

  Slowly, the last song drew to a close and she slowed her bow to a stop. The conductor lowered his arms and the musicians lowered their instruments into a resting position. Melody looked at her bow, several of the horse hairs had snapped and hung loose. Her fingers practically itched to pull them off, to have her bow looking as pristine as it had when they started. She hated the thought that she could have abused it enough to break the coarse hairs.

  The thin piece of arched wood seemed so frail, too frail to put it through what she had just done to it. Still, it was in one piece, the frog tight and the hairs hanging on even though some of them had given in to the stress of her aggressive playing. If she lost many more hairs off her bow, she would have to have it restrung. With luck, it would last at least until the end of her contract with the Philharmonic. She hated changing bows mid-cycle and that is exactly what she would have to do if she had to have this one restrung.

  Her other bow was a fine bow and usually she didn’t mind using it, but this was the bow that she’d used when she made first chair and somehow, some strange superstitious thing told her that if she lost this bow, she would lose her position.

  Carmen elbowed her and smiled when Melody looked at her. “You’re supposed to stand up and bow now,” she said through her teeth. I think they expect it of you since they’re giving you a standing ovation and all.”

  With wide eyes, Melody turned to the audience and suddenly heard the applause that she had somehow missed before. Resting her violin horizontally against her side, she stood and bowed, unable to keep the smile from her face. Somewhere, somehow, she knew her grandfather was proud. She was living his dream, their dream, and it felt wonderful.

  Melody straightened and bowed again. When she looked up the second time, everything in the world froze. It was as though the entire world had come to a standstill as she saw the two men who towered over the rest of the audience.

  Carmen’s uncles were just as handsome in real life as they were in the photos she’d seen, perhaps more handsome in their black tuxes, their hair slicked back and their faces devoid of hair. Though, now that she thought about it, she did like them a bit scruffy more than clean shaven, though they were gorgeous either way.

  She met their gazes and felt her knees go weak. Swallowing thickly, Melody steeled her spine, standing straight and tall at the sound of the audience’s applause. She smiled at the audience and their repeated Bravas that rang throughout the concert hall. She wanted to tell these people that it wasn’t just her, that everyone in the orchestra contributed to the beautiful music they’d just heard.

  Melody sat down when Johannes turned his attention to Michael and he stood up to take his bow. The soloists
and first chairs were just the icing on a very large cake. Every musician here was nothing more than a servant to the composer who continued to tell them what to do a century or more after his death. The music was the reason she was here. The music was the reason everyone was here.

  The curtain closed while the audience still applauded the orchestra’s performance and Melody turned to Carmen. “I think I saw your uncles.” She stood, violin in hand, and made her way off the stage to her case.

  Picking up her polishing cloth, she wiped the oils from her hands and the rosin left by the bow from the glossy surface before loosening the strings and setting the instrument back in its case. She loosened the frog on the bow to relax the horse hair before trimming the broken strands from the wood and stored that in the case in its place over her spare bow.

  “Look at me. My hands are shaking and I carried my violin offstage.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Carmen said with a laugh, “and the world didn’t come to an end.”

  “Oh, shut up.” Folding the cloth, she stored it beneath the neck and closed the case, securing the latches. Even her case looked old. The newer ones were plastic or fiberglass. Hers was made of paper-covered wood with a felt interior.

  It seemed as though everyone tried to get her to buy a new one, but this one had been good enough for her grandfather and his fathers before him. Besides, for some reason, the new cases were always just a bit too small, giving her precious violin a tight fit.

  “Ready to meet them?” Carmen asked from behind her.

  Melody spun around, her hand held to her heart. “Don’t do that to me! You almost gave me a heart attack, for goodness sakes.”

  “Sorry.” Carmen shrugged. “They’re standing at the edge of the stage if you want to meet them.”

  Melody couldn’t suppress the urge to smooth her hair even though she had no intention of meeting Carmen’s uncles. They were too…something. She wasn’t sure what yet. Potent, maybe. Heck, they were so freaking hawt they made her elbows sweat.

  If she remembered correctly, Mitch was approximately six-foot six with black hair and chocolate brown eyes. Wyatt was different. He had black hair as well, but his eyes were blue, as blue as the Caribbean Sea. Melody wasn’t sure she’d ever seen eyes so blue before and both of them had bodies to die for.

  No. Meeting Carmen’s uncles would not be a good thing. She could see how it could be bad, very bad. Every cell, every microbe in her body stood up and took notice when she spotted them in the audience. Her skin tingled at the thought of them looking at her, watching her. It’s just a good thing she hadn’t spotted them before the concert. If she had, she may have made a fool of herself by staring at them instead of playing. That would have gone over well.

  Her stomach clenched, her nipples tightened and her panties grew wet with anticipation as she continued to think about the two men. She had no business meeting Carmen’s uncles when she was so obviously attracted to them. Things could only turn out badly and she wanted to keep Carmen her friend, not make her an enemy, or at best a person who merely tolerated her presence.

  “I can’t meet them tonight. I—I have a date.” Melody bit her lip. She was a horrible liar and Carmen knew it.

  “Liar.” Her friend slapped her on the arm. “What’s going on? Why don’t you want to meet them?” Carmen waggled her brows. “What happened to them being so hawt you could do them both. At the same time.”

  Melody gasped. “You’re not supposed to read my mind. It’s against the rules.” Upset, she picked her violin up and held it to her chest as though it would somehow protect her heart from getting broken. She’d already fell half in love with Carmen’s uncles in their photo. She didn’t need to meet them and fall the rest of the way. That couldn’t possibly be good. “I just can’t meet them tonight, Carmen. I have to get back to the apartment and feed my cat.”

  Carmen made a face. “That mangy animal could do to miss a meal.” She gave a little hop. “Come on. Have dinner with us. They’re taking me out to Chez Jaques for dinner.” She held her hands together as if in prayer. “Puhleeeze?” Carmen batted her eyes.

  “I don’t think so.” Melody almost wanted to laugh at her pout. “I know what you’re trying to do and I appreciate it, but there comes a time when a person has to grow up and realize that old dreams just can’t come true.”

  Especially ones like hers. She didn’t know when she’d stopped thinking of them separately and started thinking of the two men as a package deal. Even though she knew that was an impossibility. Somehow, anything less just seemed wrong.

  Chapter Four

  Wyatt watched as Carmen turned with a shrug and walked away from her friend. He couldn’t seem to stop staring at the woman as she disappeared around the corner at the left end of the stage.

  His instincts told him to go to her. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. The air literally stank with no good. Someone around here intended to do another harm. He could smell the intent in the air. Like a beast protecting its young from a predator stalking its prey, he instinctively moved closer to Carmen, as did Mitch. They didn’t have the right to dictate to Carmen’s friend, but they had every right to protect the daughter of their hearts.

  “Hey, hey! What’s going on, you two? Let’s not get weird here.” Carmen pushed them away. Looking at each of them in turn, she narrowed her eyes. “All right. What’s wrong?” She crossed her arms as they continued to scan the area around them.

  “There is someone here who means to do someone harm and we are merely ensuring that someone isn’t you.”

  Carmen gasped, her already large brown eyes growing larger. “It’s not me they’re after. I would almost guarantee that it’s Melody.”

  Wyatt took her by the shoulders when his beast snarled a denial. “Why Melody?”

  “She’s been getting some really strange hate mail lately. She’s been shrugging it off, but I know it bothers her.” She stood on her toes to look out over the crowd. “I can’t see her.”

  “She’s already left the stage.” Wyatt turned to Mitch. Get Carmen to the car. I’ll go find Melody.”

  “No. She doesn’t know you.” Carmen pulled free from Mitch’s grasp. “I’m going with you. To her, you could just as easily be her stalker than anyone else.”

  “I thought you said she’s seen our photos.”

  “She has, Uncle Mitch, but she doesn’t really know you like I do, now does she?”

  Carmen rested her hands on her hips and tapped her foot, looking so much like her mother it made Wyatt want to laugh and cry at the same time. He missed his adopted sister so much it hurt sometimes.

  “Come on then and stop wasting time,” Wyatt practically growled as he headed across the stage, expecting Mitch and Carmen to follow close behind. The last thing he wanted was to have something happen to Melody, especially if things were as he suspected and she was their mate.

  He heard a blood-curdling scream just before a loud crash and he poured on the speed. He didn’t run fast enough to draw attention to himself, but he knew a human couldn’t move quite as fast and he was sure to reach her first.

  When he arrived, he found Melody lying unconscious on the floor, her violin held tightly to her chest. The woman had obviously dove out of the way of the falling spotlight apparatus and somehow managed to land on her back so as not to damage her violin.

  Wyatt pulled the instrument from her unconscious death grip and threw it to the side to examine Melody for injuries, while Mitch scanned the area for someone who could have damaged the equipment and caused it to fail.

  Carmen gasped. “Be careful with that! That violin is worth more money than we can make in a lifetime.”

  “I don’t know. I can make a lot of money in my lifetime.” Mitch knelt on her other side while Carmen retrieved the violin and stood off to the side.

  “She would never forgive any of us, including herself, if anything happened to this. It’s her life.”

  “Not the way I see it,” Mitch grumbled. “I
t’s nothing more than a bit of wood, varnish, glue and wire to me.”

  “It’s a Stradivarius!”

  Wyatt could have laughed at her tone if this wasn’t so damned serious. As it was, the girl had been out of it far too long in his opinion. “Something’s wrong. Shouldn’t she have come to by now?”

  A man pushed his way through the crowd. “I’m a doctor. Can I be of assistance?”

  Wyatt looked at the man and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like the way the doctor smelled. He wasn’t sure if it was because the man was responsible for this, or if it was because he lusted after Melody. Whatever it was, Wyatt didn’t like it, or him.

  Mitch stepped forward with a growl. Apparently Mitch didn’t like the man’s scent either. “Don’t touch her. We take care of our own.”

  The man stood tall and straightened his coat. “And you would be?”

  “Her fiancé,” Mitch answered almost absently as he pushed past the man to lift Melody in his arms. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll just take Melody to see our own physician.”

  Wyatt took Melody’s instrument from Carmen, took his niece by the elbow and led her from the hall. “She needs protection and obviously your Philharmonic can’t provide that for her.”

  “And how do you two plan to provide it?” Carmen asked with a smirk on her face. I know what’s going on back in Paradise, but she doesn’t. Do you think she’s just going to give up her life here to follow you two across the country to live a life she may consider sinful?” Carmen looked around and lowered her voice. “You can’t just pack her off to Paradise on a whim, you know. She’s human, for God’s sake.” The last few words came out as little more than a hiss.