IntheMood by Lynne Connolly Read Free Book Online

Regulator?”
    “How did you know my name was Hamid?” As soon as she’d said
it, she laughed. “The café.” The sign was so much part of her life she hardly
remembered it was there anymore. They’d renamed the café Hamid’s, but most
people called it “The Neat Street Café”, after the alleyway by the side of the
place.
    He nodded. “That’s it.” A sense of wonder permeated his
eyes. “It’s been years,” he murmured as if to himself. “I haven’t slept with
anybody— I’m sorry.”
    She enjoyed his embarrassment. Better than that tension she
barely understood, so much more powerful than she’d felt with anyone else.
“Since you slept with someone without knowing their full name? I wouldn’t have
known yours if I hadn’t known who you were. I didn’t ask any more than you
did.”
    She took a risk, turned and kissed him.
    She meant it to be brief, but the flash of scalding heat
that passed between them shocked her into immobility. Long enough for him to
pull her closer and plunder.
    It happened again. She lost all sense of time and place.
Fuck, this man was steaming hot, better than anyone else. Was it practice, or
did it come naturally? Right now she didn’t give a fuck. She just wanted more.
    He broke the kiss and touched his lips to the tip of her
nose. “Do you want this? Your choice.”
    Like a gentleman, he’d given her breathing space, a chance
to regain her senses. She appreciated that. “We should go.” Her shaky laugh
revealed her state of mind. “I thought— I had no—”
    “Tell me.” His hold on her gentled but he didn’t let go.
    “Well, we got so carried away that I thought, well, you
know, it was just one of those things, a night. And you are so fucking cool I
thought, yeah, well, at least I can say I fucked one famous person in my life.
And now I’m a groupie.” It had meant much more to her, but she didn’t know if she
was ready to admit it to anyone else yet. This was so intense she was losing
herself. Treating it flippantly might help her to regain her equilibrium.
    His laugh broke the remaining tension and she relaxed into
his hold. “Except, darling Violet, I’m the groupie and you’re the musician.”
    “No, I didn’t—” She broke off and gave a self-deprecating
grin. “Yes I did.”
    He held her firmly, gazing down into her face. “Look, V. You
want a one-nighter, then that’s what you’ll have. I won’t push you for more if
you don’t want it. Like I said last night, the business part of it ended
outside the café. It can start again this morning, if you want, and we can be
just colleagues.”
    She swallowed. He meant it. “You’d do that?”
    “I said so, didn’t I?”
    “Is my playing on the track so important to you?” She could
feel his intensity, and it wasn’t all for her. Little signs of nervousness, the
way the muscles around his mouth had tightened, a look of tension that was
different from the way they’d appeared last night.
    “What?” Frowning, he stared at her, then his brow cleared.
“Fuck, yes. I want to be honest with you. Yes, it means a lot to me. I let the
band down, badly, a couple of years back and this is my chance to make it up to
them. I want this album to be the best I can make it, and it’s fucking good
already. Can I be frank?”
    “You can be Harry if it helps.”
    Her mild joke released his smile. “For you I’ll be anything
you like. Okay, then. When I left the band, it wasn’t under the best
circumstances. I was wasted, unreliable. What was reported in the press—it
wasn’t the half of it. All I did in the band was sing and play harmonica,
although they put my name down on a few songs as writer. Truth is, I didn’t
write any of them. I did learn production and discovered I liked it, but my songwriting
is feeble at best. They left my name on the songs, which was a pretty cool
thing to do.
    “My share of the royalties paid for my rehab. But when I
left the band, it wasn’t voluntary like they