Concert III

Jacob deliberately turned his head toward Dedari and smiled, a show of gleaming white teeth. He straightened, his body fluid and supple. 

Two fingers touched his forehead in a mock salute directed at Dedari. Muscles rippled suggestively beneath the thin T-shirt. He sauntered unhurriedly to the exit, arrogance in every step.

 His amber eyes glinted with menace until he swung his gaze back to Zande. Then his eyes burned possessively, intently, a molten gold that turned her to liquid heat.

For you, cara mia. His voice moved through her body with the same inflammatory heat of his gaze.

Zande wanted to run after him. She stood on the stage and sang to a crowd of several thousand, but her mind and her heart and soul were somewhere else. Prest and Rich were watching her closely, puzzled, worried by her strange behavior. Zande had never faltered, never missed a beat in all their long centuries of singing on stage.