Page 5 of Her Dark Melody
Ebony nodded, hearing an accent in his voice, but unable to place it. “Born and bred, although sadly, all my family is either gone or scattered. My brother lives in NewOrleans.”
“I know – he’s married to Juno, Romy toldme.”
Ebony was a little confused. He was very forward to be a driver. Maybe that’s how it worked in Atlas Tigri’s world—Romy had said he was a sweetheart—unless…
“I’m really sorry, I should have asked your name. Forgive myrudeness.”
The driver laughed, and something flipped in Ebony’s stomach. God, he wasgorgeous…
“No problem. Atlas Tigri, at yourservice.”
Ebony felt her face burn. “God, I’m sorry, Mr. Tigri, I thought…Romy said you were sending a car, not picking me upyourself.”
Atlas grinned. “Atlas, please. I changed my mind, thought it would break the ice faster to come get you myself. I hope that’sokay.”
Oh, god, yes.Ebony smiled at him. “That explains the accent.Italian.”
“Yes, indeed. So, now that we’ve met officially, would you spend the day with me, Miss Verlaine? I thought I would show you the facility then take you to lunch. After that, we can go to the party venue and talk more about yourperformance.”
“Ebony, please, and that soundsperfect.”
On the wayto the Haven facility, Ebony was impressed even more with Atlas Tigri – it became apparent very quickly that he wasn’t just a rich, pretty boy, but someone really passionate about helping victims of domestic abuse. “I wanted somewhere, a safe space for abuse victims to go and get the medical help they needed, but also the psychiatric help, the comfort, compassion,” he told her as they pulled up to the building. It was sleek and modern, but also had a warm atmosphere to it, which Atlas commented on as they walked up the steps, greeted by various employees with friendlynods.
“I want this placed to be somewhere they feel secure, well fed, warm. It needs to be somewhere they can regroup and plan the next steps in their lives. A kind of home, if you will.” He smiled at her ruefully. “It’s grown far beyond what I envisioned, and quickly, too. We now have lawyers on hand, as well as top surgeons, such as Romy. I’m also hoping, eventually, to be able to rehouse people, but at the moment, my accountants won’t let me fundthat.”
There was a flash of real frustration in his green eyes and if Ebony had missed it, his next words made it clear it wasn’t imaginary. “It’s my money. I should be able to use it for any purpose,” he muttered, sounding distinctly less rich financier than frustrated philanthropist. “But that’s why I have financial counsel, to make sure there’s money available for manyyears.”
She nodded, walking inside the building as he held the door for her. “Long-term planning instead of a flash in thepan.”
“Precisely.” He stepped in and smiled at one of the residents as she walked by, a look of tension on her face that relaxed under Atlas’ warm smile. “We’re not struggling by any means, but this fundraiser will bring in vital money for supplies, food, medicine. If it goes well, we may make it a regularthing.”
Moved beyond words, Ebony looked around as they walked through the clean, freshly painted hallways, to some of the residential halls. The rooms, though dormitory style, were painted in warm colors, decorated with carefully curated artwork that made them feel simultaneously homey andstylish.
Ebony’s eyes glistened at the obvious care that had gone into the smallest detail. “It’s incredible, Atlas…wow.”
“We never have enough beds,” he told her soberly, “and it breaks myheart.”
Impulsively, she rested her hand on his forearm and looked up into his handsome face. “What you’ve done here—beside the physical appearance of things, all the programs you offer, the highly trained staff, the overall dedication to helping them help themselves—” she shook her head. “It’s incredible, Atlas. Far and beyond the expected or even the usually possible. But you can’t saveeverybody.”
Atlas laughed softly, lightly covering her hand with his own and sending a tendril of warmth straight into Ebony’s heart. “Romy tells me that all the time.” His smile faded. “We had an emergency brought in the other night, and Romy had to operate. The victim didn’t make it. That’s the hardest part of all ofthis.”
“But you’re making a difference,” she said intently, keeping her gaze locked with his. He was mesmerizing, this man; a mirror of sorts to this facility where the exterior was as handsome as everything inside. Ebony felt a surge of adrenaline, inspired by this man’s heart, by his vision. “It’s incredible, Atlas, it really is. Any way I can help, even if it is just by singing for you, I’d love to be a part of it. I know, from working with GRF, how a foundation can change a life. It changed mine when I met Livia Chatelaine. It changedforever, and I’m just asinger.”
“You’re notjusta singer, Ebony. You bring pleasure to people with your naturalgift.”
“You haven’t even heard me sing yet,” she flushed but felt the shift in atmosphere between them. Suddenly there was a tension, and she could feel his body heat. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, then Atlas smiled, his eyessoft.
“I can’t wait to hear you,” he said softly and touched a finger to her cheek. Her skin burned where he made contact, and her stomach was filled with butterflies. “I can’twait.”
He tookher for lunch to an independent burger joint, and she loved that he had no airs, enjoying the fast food as much as she did, chatting easily. She took her time to study him; the way he dressed, a dark blue sweater which brought out the color of his green eyes, blue jeans which highlighted his long, slim legs and – much to Ebony’ approval – a firm, tight bubble-butt. It was his eyes which really drew her, though. The color of them, so bright against the thick, long, black eyelashes which she wanted to brush her fingers across. They were so dark that they made him look as if he were wearing eyeliner. His face, boyish, with rounded cheeks, and his smile which made herweak.
Do not get a crush on him,she warned herself, then realized it was too late. To be fair, Atlas Tigri was flirty, funny, and held her gaze for a beat too long when they talked. She was used to being noticed by men, but this was somehow totallydifferent.
Built like a pocket Venus, Ebony was all curves, her dark skin glowing with vitality, her face a callback to 1940’s glamour; something she played up by styling her hair in the style of Josephine Baker. When she performed, she would slip into skin-tight flapper dresses which highlighted her curves. But off-duty, she was pretty much a jeans and t-shirt kind ofgirl.
Now, as she looked at this man in front of her, she felt her entire body ache for him. She wondered what he would be like in bed; if he unleashed all that wild Italian sexuality or was more reserved. She wondered how he would look naked, how his cock would feel inside ofher…
Jesus, stop.She could feel herself getting wet and tried to distract herself by talking about her set list for the party. It was difficult when Atlas was looking at her like he wanted to fuck her right there,though.
