Lure of Song and Magic Read Free

anger and fear tightly leashed, as she’d learned to do through harsh experience, she warned, “You’re trespassing.”
    â€œI do that occasionally,” he admitted with seductive charm. “My brothers have tried to beat the habit out of me, but so far, they’ve not succeeded.”
    He had brothers. There was more than one of him. Heaven forbid. Accepting that he was human and not the monster in her mind, Pippa sat down abruptly and resumed her position. He couldn’t seduce her with empty promises if she didn’t listen.
    â€œI’ll admit, you’re not what I expected,” he said thoughtfully.
    In overalls, wearing her Dorabelle clown face, she knew what she looked like to a snotty L.A. producer. She considered chucking a loose paver at his head until he spoke again.
    â€œYou’re better, far more than I imagined.”
    Perversely, now that the insult had turned into the same old song and dance, she still wanted to chuck a brick.
    â€œBecause sharks don’t have imaginations,” she said dryly, forgetting her intention of ignoring him. She’d more easily ignore a prowling lion. He paced her courtyard, examining everything from the nearly bare jacaranda falling over the wall to the budding rosebushes protected by warm stucco and the garden gnome hiding behind the thorns.
    And her. She knew when she was being checked out. She sat still in her bibbed denim, giving him no satisfaction, although her neglected libido trembled in expectation.
    â€œI have enough imagination to know a market phenomenon when I see one,” he said with amazing arrogance. “Admittedly, I’m not in the business of multibillion-dollar projects where a single meltdown could bankrupt me. I have employees who rely on their salaries, and I’m averse to unnecessary risk for their sakes. Instead I’ve learned to recognize the smaller, surefire projects. What I have in mind for you is almost pure profit with little effort.”
    Pippa closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see his winning smile. She tried to find the focus inside her head, but his pacing disturbed the walled garden’s tranquility. And hers.
    â€œTalk to my agent about my books,” she repeated. “I am not and never will be part of the package. There are plenty of starving actors who will work for peanuts.”
    â€œPossibly,” he agreed, humoring her. “But I need you to approve the input. It’s your style and charm that make the books successful. I’ll need that to shine through in the show.”
    â€œNo,” she said firmly. “Please leave.” She was afraid if he lingered, that the Voice, the Evil, the Bane of her Existence, would break through her resolve. Mr. Producer would end up crawling on his knees, which was much too tempting a scenario and the reason she hid from civilization. She’d sworn never to use that curse again, but she was weak, and the temptation to lash out and defend herself was strong.
    Instead of leaving, he came dangerously close, close enough for her to smell the expensive aftershave that blended with his sexy male musk.
    â€œI know who you are,” he said silkily.
    The threat untethered the last fragile bond of her restraint.
    Furious as she was fearful, Pippa lashed out with her foot. Her heel would have rendered him incapable of procreating except this time, he’d expected the assault and dodged with the quick reflexes of a trained athlete. Her sandal merely slammed high above his crotch.
    Undaunted, she brought both feet to the ground and, using the momentum of her motion, rose from a half crouch to jab the heel of her hand beneath his chin and snap his head back.
    Despite his bruised groin, Oz grabbed her wrist and bent it backward before she could break his neck.
    â€œWe need to talk, Syrene .”
    She ripped her arm free of his grasp. Holding her ears, unable to fight the Voice any longer, Pippa collapsed on the