Dance to the Piper (The O'Hurleys, Book 2)
Nora Roberts
Language: English
Pages: 146
ISBN: 1611061245
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Fans of Nora Roberts will be delighted with her latest tale of a woman who dared to dream and a man who had forgotten how. She moved in perfect harmony to the music that ruled her life both onstage and off. He dealt with ruthless expertise. Music was his business and he was all business--until she lit up the stage. . . .
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selling it, as her father had shown her years before—and let the last note ring out Someone threw her a towel. They went over the scene again and again, sharpening, making a few changes in the blocking. The lighting director and the stage manager went into a huddle, and then they went through it again. Satisfied—for the moment—they walked through the next scene. Maddy took a break, downed a pint of orange juice and a carton of yogurt, then went back for more. It was twilight when she left the
again. “So this Edwin Valentine has a son. Not a dancer?” “No.” Maddy had to smile. “He’s taken over the record company. I guess he’s a magnate.” “Well.” Chantel rolled out the word. “Coming up in the world, aren’t we?” “I don’t know what I’m doing.” Maddy unlaced her legs and rose. “Most of the time I think I must be crazy. He’s gorgeous and successful and conservative. He likes French restaurants.” “The beast.” Maddy dissolved into laughter. “Oh, Chantel, help.” “Have you slept with him?”
simply the truth. You’re looking for lies where there aren’t any.” She wouldn’t lose her temper, she told herself as she drew breath in and out slowly. But she wasn’t finished. They weren’t finished. “Are you going to try to tell me you didn’t feel anything just now? Do you really believe we had sex and nothing more?” When he turned, his struggle was all internal. Nothing showed on his face. “I don’t have anything more to give you. Take it or leave it, Maddy.” Her fingers tightened on the
than you do with counterweights. All the moving pieces are handled from up here. The beaded curtain.” She put a hand over a group of ropes that was bound together and labeled with a tag. “It weighs over five hundred pounds. When it’s time to let it down in the third act, the stage manager cues the flyman verbally through the intercom. The lighting director backs it up with a light cue.” “Sounds simple enough.” “Sure. Unless you’ve got two or three cues on top of each other or a drop that’s so
true that was. He hadn’t driven to Philadelphia in the middle of the night because he mistrusted her. He hadn’t come with her that morning because he didn’t have anything better to do. He’d done both because wherever she was, he belonged. She danced to the piper. And, perhaps, so did he. It scared the hell out of him. Thirty feet above the stage, on a narrow iron platform, he experienced the fear of falling—but not fear of falling physically onto the floor below. “Let’s go down.” He wanted
