The Diva Diaries by Karen Anders Read Free Book Online Page A

wanted to hurt anyone like that, especially a proudman like Sam. It was a promise she’d made to herself a long time ago, one she never intended to break.
    Music was her life.
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    T HAT NIGHT , Jenna stood in the wings and peeked out at the audience. Earlier, she’d wanted to locate the desk, but practicing and rehearsing with the Savannah College Orchestra didn’t leave her any time.
    Apprehension coursed through her, but it wasn’t in response to all the people waiting for her to play her violin. She never got stage fright. No, this nervousness was a direct result of the fact that, against her own will, she wanted Sam to like her music as much as she’d enjoyed their early-morning chores.
    In addition to her other selections, she’d chosen to play a special arrangement called “Storm.” It was a hauntingly beautiful piece. She hoped it would appeal to Sam. Then she snorted at the unexpected thought. The man had dragged her around in the pouring rain to feed horses and cows. Why would she think he’d care about her music and why did it matter so much?
    â€œA full house tonight, Miss Sinclair,” the stage manager of the sumptuous Savannah College Tannenbaum Auditorium said to her with a pat on her shoulder. She smiled at him. He returned her smile.
    â€œI heard you warming up. Your fiddling sounds mighty fine.”
    â€œThank you. You’re very kind.”
    â€œIt’s not kindness, if you’ll pardon me for saying so, but admiration and the doggone truth.”
    â€œThank you, then, for your admiration.” She liked his nice plain face and charming Texas voice.
    Not like Sam’s. No, Sam’s drawl was husky and seemed to seep into her bones.
    She shook herself. The only reason she was even in Savannah was to get her gran’s diary and jewelry back.
    The hall continued to fill as people greeted each other and others searched for their seats. It was a handsome crowd, dressed in dark suits and fashionable gowns, some even aglitter, the light reflecting off numerous beads.
    The house lights went down and the stage manager whispered, “Two minutes.”
    Jenna picked up her violin and fluffed up the flounces of her angle-length full-skirted black dress. Sam had been delayed in the foaling barn and she hadn’t seen him before she left the ranch, driven to the college by one of his ranch hands.
    She took a deep breath as she was announced. She swept out from the wing and walked to center stage. She refused to look at Sam, who was in the first row along with the mayor and his wife. Instead, she kept her eyes straightforward. She bowed into the applause. Then she brought her eyes to the seats directly in front of her and almost dropped her instrument.
    She stared.
    Her eyes met and melded with the piercing blue of his. They were hot eyes, eyes that promised heat beyond her wildest imagination. It was pure undiluted lust. There was not a man of her acquaintance who ever instilled this feeling inside her. In fact, every other man she had ever known paled in comparison to him.
    In a sea of suits, Sam stood out in a black frock coat just like a riverboat gambler, with a striking silver-and-gray-tone vest over a white-banded collar shirt.
    She remembered the determined look on his face yesterday afternoon when he’d broken the horse. She sensed strength in him, yet beneath his dress clothes there hid subtle danger. A whisper of risk.
    He met her eyes boldly and, with an amused glint, he inclined his head slightly.
    Her gaze moved down to his provocative mouth, wondering suddenly what it would be like to kiss such full, beautifully shaped lips.
    His enticing mouth, turning up into a sweet smile, broke the spell and she pulled her eyes away. She said, “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It’s a pleasure and an honor to be here tonight. I’m thrilled to be playing with the excellent Savannah College Orchestra and its illustrious conductor,