Free Seducing the Wolf by Maureen Smith Page B

during her recitals. She remembered how intently he’d watched her, never fidgeting, barely seeming to breathe as he listened to her play. She’d instinctively focused on him, letting him be her anchor as her fingers flew over the strings of her violin. And when she’d strummed the last chord, he was always the first one on his feet, his eyes shining with fierce pride as he applauded for her.
    The memory brought a lump to her throat, and she swallowed hard to clear it as Manning gazed at her. When he reached out to brush his thumb along the line of her jaw, her skin tingled and her pulse raced.
    “I’m glad you’re here, Taylor,” he said softly.
    “Me too,” she whispered, meaning it.
    His eyes roamed across her face, tracing her features. “Why don’t you put any photos of yourself on your album covers?”
    The question caught her off guard. “Photos?” she repeated blankly.
    He nodded. “Most artists do, don’t they?”
    “I suppose.” She paused for a moment. “I’ve always felt that it’s not about me. It’s about the music. Unlike pop artists, I’m not necessarily trying to sell an image. The people who enjoy my music don’t care how I look, for the most part.”
    Manning nodded slowly. “You don’t have any pictures on your website either.”
    Taylor stared at him. “Have you been searching for pictures of me?”
    His small smile was rueful, shadowed with pain. “No, I haven’t,” he murmured. “I generally try not to be a glutton for punishment, though I’m not always successful.”
    Taylor swallowed hard. She knew all about being a glutton for punishment, didn’t she?
    Manning stared into her eyes a moment longer, then said softly, “Let’s eat.”
    She nodded, watching as he reached across the table and began uncovering the silver dishes arranged on the table.
    “I hope you’re hungry,” he told her.
    “I am now,” she said, surveying the lavish selection of crêpes drizzled with chocolate, lobster quiche, eggs Benedict, seasoned home fries, bacon and fresh fruits. “Everything looks and smells delicious.”
    Manning smiled as he prepared a plate for her. “I thought we could have breakfast on the way to our destination.”
    Taylor eyed him curiously. “What’s our destination?”
    “Someplace I think you’ll enjoy.”
    “So mysterious,” Taylor teased. “You’re not going to tell me?”
    “Eventually.” Manning set the plate down in front of her and winked. “ Bon appétit .”
    “ Merci .” Taylor smiled at him as she picked up her fork. “ Tu parles français ?”
    “Do I speak French?” He chuckled, filling her wineglass. “Not enough to impress you.”
    She gave him a saucy look. “Are you trying to impress me, Manning?”
    “I thought that was obvious.”
    Taylor laughed, cutting into a red velvet crêpe filled with mascarpone cream. She slid the fork into her mouth and let out an appreciative moan. “Oh. My. God .”
    Manning grinned, watching her. “Good?”
    “ Beyond good.” She ate another decadent forkful and sighed with pleasure. “Even Gabby would be impressed.”
    “Who’s Gabby?”
    “My best friend. She’s an amazing pastry chef and the one I hold responsible for all the weight I’ve gained over the past several years.”
    “Yeah?” Manning’s gaze drifted over Taylor with frank male appreciation. “I’ll have to send her a thank-you note.”
    Taylor’s body warmed at the implied compliment. To mask her reaction, she picked up her glass and took a long sip of the delicious Bellini he’d poured for her.
    Through the tinted windows, she was surprised to see that they’d left downtown and were headed onto the interstate. The luxurious limo glided along so smoothly she’d forgotten they were inside a moving vehicle instead of a five-star restaurant.
    “Mmm,” Manning murmured, sampling the crêpe on his plate. “That is good.”
    “Told you.” Taylor smiled, setting down her drink to resume eating. “It was great to see