An Unexpected Song Read Free Page A

with forced lightness, “Perhaps someday you’ll let me star in one of the touring companies here in Europe.”
    He shook his head. “I want you to create the role. I want you on Broadway.” He turned and opened the door. “Good night, Daisy.”
    He had used her first name, and for some reason the sudden drop in formality added to her uneasiness. “Good night, Mr. Hayes.”
    He glanced over his shoulder and again corrected her. “Jason.”
    Before she could answer he had shut the door behind him.
    “So what do we do now?” Eric asked Jason as he got out of the taxi at the Hilton. “We can’t force her to come with us.”
    “No.” Jason paid the taxi driver and turned and strode toward the front entrance of the hotel. “But we can find an edge and use it.”
    “What edge?”
    “Whatever it takes.” Jason entered the lobby. “But there’s no need for both of us to cool our heels here. Take a plane to London tomorrow andsee what you can do about signing Colin Bartlin for Iago. I’ll handle everything here.”
    Eric frowned. “You’re sure?”
    Jason nodded. “It may take a while to get him. I hear Bartlin’s got a long-term contract with
Phantom.
Why don’t you call Peg and have her meet you there?”
    “I may do that.” He brightened and fell into step with Jason as they crossed the lobby toward the bank of elevators. “She’s never been to London, and she needs a break. The kids have been driving her crazy lately.” He pressed the button for the elevator. “If you’re certain you don’t mind becoming involved in the Justine negotiations.”
    He was already involved, Jason thought grimly. It wasn’t just the music. He had only touched her and his body was still aching and aroused. She had felt the chemistry, too, in spite of her devotion to that damn lover who seemed to hold her in thrall.
    He felt a surge of red-hot fury at the thought and drew a steadying breath. It was only sex. It wasn’t uncommon for a man to feel an obsessive sexual attraction—and control it. There would be no danger to her. He would sign her. They might have a few nights together to rid themselves of their shared lust, then he would go back to New York.
    The doors slid open and he stepped into the elevator. “Don’t worry. I have nothing better to do right now. I don’t anticipate any problem with eventually persuading Daisy Justine to sign with us.”
    Though it was well after midnight, her father was still up when Daisy arrived at the cottage.She hadn’t expected him to be asleep, though. Lately he was totally wrapped up in his work. He had gotten into the habit of rising at dawn and continuing to paint until well after midnight.
    She shut the door. “Hi, Charlie.”
    “Hi,” he said absently.
    She shook her head resignedly as she saw his tall, gawky frame hunched before the easel standing across the large room that was their living and studio space. The strong lights picked up the gray streaks in Charlie’s disheveled brown hair and the paint splotches on his favorite blue chambray work shirt. “It’s after midnight. Time for bed.”
    “In a minute. I want to get the hue of this bowl just right.…” His gaze narrowed on the canvas. “How did it go tonight?”
    “Pretty well. The audience seemed to think I was okay.” She strolled over to the canvas and laid her head against his arm as she studied the painting. “I like this one. That banana looks real enough to eat.”
    He grimaced. “As an art critic once told me, I have a great grasp of texture and no grasp of soul.”
    “Which just goes to show you what an idiot he was. How can a banana have a soul?”
    He chuckled. “That’s what I thought at the time. I remember how outraged I was …” He trailed off as he became lost in his painting again.
    “Did you eat supper?”
    “What?” He glanced down at her. “I think so. Chili or something.”
    “That was yesterday.” Her worried gaze ran over him. He had always been slender, and his