Musician's Monsoon Read Online Free

you have to make it up to me,” he said. “You catch my attention in a sea of people and distract me to where I can’t even play my own song. Then your psycho cousin tries to assassinate me with her chest.”
    A laugh tore from Sophie’s throat before she could stop it.
    Zane took a step closer to her. “ Then you disappear from the crowd and apparently discard the beer I gave you.” He made a disgusted noise and rolled his eyes. “Some kind of fan you are.”
    Her mouth fell open in feigned offense. “I didn’t discard it! Someone crashed into me, and I dropped it! I couldn’t exactly pick up the pieces and put them on my wall like a warped mosaic.”
    He waved his hand as if her words were meaningless. He took another step closer until their bodies almost touched. “ Then you try and put out my eye. That’s a long list.”
    She smirked at him, and some of her self-consciousness dissipated at his teasing. Heat radiated from his body, and it made electric tingles run along her skin. He was sexy, smooth, and playful…and a musical genius. She would be lying to herself if she tried to deny her attraction to him. Heck, she had always been attracted to him in posters and TV interviews. Standing this close to him in person was just that much more powerful.
    She put her hand on her hip and tried to seem cocky. “Yeah, well what do you want, music man?” It came out more of a sarcastic challenge than she had meant.
    He arched an eyebrow in surprise. His green eyes stared into hers for several heartbeats of silence. She expected a quick, snappy response to leave his lips, something tinged in arrogance that would prove the fact that women never turned him down. It was what she expected, but not what she received.
    Instead, his eyes turned soft, scanning her face in a glance that was brief, but left warmth in its wake. “My muse,” he murmured.
    She frowned. “Excuse me?”
    He smiled. “What I want is my muse.” He reached out and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. The air caught in her throat, making it impossible for her to draw in a decent breath. He bent his head and brought his mouth to her ear. “Inspire me,” he whispered.
    Her heart began to beat out erratic patterns, and delicious, sensuous tremors ran along her spine. The breathy laugh that left her sounded foreign to her ears and would have embarrassed her if she hadn’t been concentrating so hard on the waves of warmth passing between the two of them. “I make no promises,” she managed to get out.
    He pulled back and grinned down at her. “You don’t understand. There’s a reason I singled you out in the crowd. I don’t know why, but when I look at you, I hear music.”
    She blinked. Dang. If that was a line, it sure was a good one. Worked for her. She bit her bottom lip, at a loss for words, and suppressed a shiver as one of his hands descended along her bare arm and played idly with her fingers.
    “I’d like to explain,” he continued.
    She met his gaze and nodded like a mute. Really, what was she supposed to do? Tell him no? Yeah, right.
    If it was possible, his stunning grin grew even brighter. His fingers tightened on hers. “Do you have a name?” he prodded.
    She cleared her throat and tried to remember how to function like a normal human. “Um, Sophie,” she replied.
    “Sophie,” he repeated. “I’m Zane.”
    She snorted. “No crap.” She couldn’t swear. She was too used to teaching kids. Euphemisms were her best friends, even if they sounded slightly lame in situations, say, like this one.
    He chuckled and tugged on her hand, pulling her closer to him. “Have dinner with me.”
    It wasn’t a request, wasn’t a question, and she knew she would hate herself if she said no. Part of her was skeptical; part of her didn’t understand. She was plain. She was ordinary. Why was he flirting with her when he could have been at some after-party kegger with a bunch of hot blondes?
    “Because hot blondes are average at