just enjoy being a spectator."
She almost cringed again as she closed her eyes and nodded. "Baby, listen, sometimes this thing can get out of hand--like an obsession. I'm gonna try to be more balanced, make time for us, cut it off when it's getting too overwhelming, and--"
"No, girl," he said with a sad smile, his hands running down her arms as he spoke. He chuckled and shook his head. "You get this look on your face that says, 'back off, I'm working,' and there have been days I've put my head in the studio or in your room while you were working, and you were gettin' it so good, were working a song down to the bone so hard that even I, the nonmusician, knew better than to interrupt that."
He was laughing, but she couldn't even look at him now. "Girl, for real, about the only time when I get that kinda look on my face is when I'm with you." He nuzzled her neck and nipped it. "That's why I am soooo jealous of that damned muse of yours, you have no idea. And half the time, when I'm looking for you, it's at some wild hour in the morning when I want to roll over and get back to where we'd been, but the muse would have you--"
"Jesus, Carlos, I'm sorry baby," she said fast, breaking his hold and halfway running across the room. "I swear I didn't know it was like that. You've gotta believe me; I never ever meant to hurt you or to do anything messed up. You know it's me and you, baby, just, I... I, lost my damned mind. See, what had happened was--"
"Damali, baby, what's the matter?" He crossed the room and wiped at the tears streaming down her face. "Girl, I was just teasing you. I know this thing drags you out of bed at--"
"Baby, see," she said, trying not to sob. "It's really strong. It's powerful. It's not like something that--"
"I know," he said, smiling. "I'm not an artist and I wouldn't understand."
She just stared at him. Marlene's words slapped her in the back of her head. Take it to your grave, girl. Don't break this man's heart. "Uhm, hmm," she mumbled, nodded, looked down at the floor, and sniffed hard.
"I know, boo," he murmured. "That's cool. I get the best part, though."
She looked up at him and wrapped her arms around herself.
"Pre- and post-songwriting performances." He gave her a long, burning gaze. "So, I ain't mad."
Damali gulped. This was so out of order, there would be no way to ever make this right. Her muse had to stay on the other side of the veil until the end of time. As long as he was spirit, not a physical manifestation, and as long as she'd never seen him and only felt his presence, it was all good. But knowledge stole innocence.
"Why don't you sing the parts of the song that you remember," Carlos said in a low, sensual murmur. "I can't compose, but maybe I can help jog your memory?" His gaze raked her and sent a ripple of heat over her bare arms.
"No, no, no, that's cool; the song is gone--cold. So, you know, baby, I appreciate--"
"Then, maybe I could offer you a little inspiration for something new?"
Panic stripped the air from her lungs as she watched him close the space between them. "Tonight, we don't have to--"
A hard pull and a deep kiss stopped her words and kept her argument in her mouth. Carlos dragged his jaw up the side of her neck and sent a hot whisper into her ear.
"Remember 'In the Dark'?" he said, his voice a rumble in his chest. "Or, 'When You Call'?"
All she could do was nod with her eyes shut.
"Or, 'Remember Baby'?" he whispered, taking her down memory lane. "Those always turned me out. But 'Sweet Transition,' the way you served it in Sydney, that one makes me act ridiculous." His hands had splayed across her back and he had begun to breathe in the fragrance of her hair, allowing his voice to come out in low, hoarse jags. "You used to sing those to me in bed."
Oh, my God... not tonight! "See, baby, that was like over a year ago, and uh . . ."
"They'll always mean something to me, since I know what inspired them." He found the sweet spot on her neck and suckled it, and then left a damp kiss in its wake. "A year is way