Chapter 18: Chapter 18

The hair on the back of Bradley Wellington’s neck stood to attention as an arc of lightening shot down his spine. He stiffened at the same time shocked gasps and a cacophony of low murmurs erupted like a wildfire in the huge gymnasium. He turned his attention away from Jessica Hartman, one of the cheerleaders he’d known while he was the quarterback of Bayside’s football team, and scanned the room, searching for the source of all the commotion, although something in his gut told him what, or rather who was now at the center of everyone’s attention.

He’d always gotten a familiar tingling down his spine when she was

near—only when she was near.

He stepped closer toward the entrance of the gym at the same time his eyes landed on her. He willed her to look at him and as if she’d heard his thoughts, she turned her gaze toward him. A heavy knot tightened in

his belly as soon as her beautiful cat like hazel eyes met his.

He’d seen her performances on television and her picture in dozens of newspapers and magazines, but they still did not prepare him for the

onslaught of emotions that flooded him at the first glimpse of the stunning brunette that had haunted almost all of his high school fantasies, and many of his adult ones.

As if in a trance, he took a step toward her, but quickly came to his senses and stopped, wondering what the hell he was doing. She looked nervous and scared, and he wanted to go to her rescue and protect her as he’d done all those years ago, but he had no clue how she would receive him. A wry smile lifted the corners of his lips. Probably in the same manner she’d received him the last time he’d tried to save her—with great disdain. Back then, Natalia hadn’t been very trusting of people—him included, and he wondered if that had changed.

But as he stared at her, he knew instinctively that he was willing to risk her censure. She just looked so afraid. Batting aside his reservations, he made his way toward her, but stopped again when Marlon Forrester, the

class DJ, stepped up to the microphone.

“If it isn’t our very own, world famous celebrity opera singer, Natalia Cruz. Here’s a shout out to Natalia. I would play one of your

CDs, but it’s kinda hard to groove to if you know what I mean,” he joked as he winked at her.

The entire room burst into laughter, while many applauded, and a few ‘Way to go, Natalia’ cheers rang out over the music.

Brad’s eyes never left her face. He could see that she was shocked, but he didn’t miss the look of relief that flashed in her gaze. He visibly relaxed when most of the people turned their attention away from her and the tension in the air quickly began to dissipate.

A few of her former classmates now crowded around her, under the pretense of congratulating her. He snorted. More like just plain old sucking up. Fifteen years ago, none of them would have come within ten feet of her, that is, unless you were a horny guy, and even then, when daylight came, none of them would have been caught dead with her.

He clenched his hands into fists as he struggled to temper the fury that always arose inside him every time he thought of how Natalia had suffered in high school. He’d hated how his entire class had treated her.

Not realizing that beneath the suggestive come ons, was a wounded and

insecure girl, the guys had used her, and the girls who’d all been jealous of her obvious beauty and sensual allure, had hurled hurtful insults at her every chance they got.

Brad chuckled dryly to himself as he watched the phony spectacle unfold right there before his eyes as more and more people clamored around her in order to get her autograph. Served them all right to now have to grovel at her feet. She had always been truly gifted and talented, but no one had taken the time to look deeper—except you, a tiny voice

shouted in his head, but he shook it away. Yeah, but it didn’t mean a damn

thing. He thought bitterly. In the end she still hadn’t cared that he saw beneath the façade she showed the world. In the end she’d put him in the same category as all the other guys—and he’d let her.

++++++

Fifteen Years Ago

Brad had been raised in a home full of Rachmaninoff, Chopin, and Schubert so he knew Beethoven’s famous Moonlight Sonata when he heard

it, but the haunting lilt of the ethereal voice that accompanied it sent chills down his spine.

Football practice had just ended, so he’d been on his way to his locker to pick up his history book, before he headed home. But at the sound of the riveting music, he stopped in his tracks and walked in the opposite direction, down the hallway toward the music room.

He furrowed his brow into a frown as he drew closer to the room. It was almost six o’clock, much too late for a young woman to be alone in the deserted school. He rounded the corner and leaned against the open doorway, expecting to find a naïve freshman sitting at the piano. Who else would sneak into the school with no regard for her safety? But as soon as his gaze settled on the figure behind the piano, he quickly realized that he was completely and utterly wrong. He nearly collapsed to his feet when he saw who it was.

Natalia?

He shook his head and refocused his gaze. He’d always suspected that behind her haunted eyes, lurked a troubled young woman, who

possessed great emotional depth, despite the shallow front she presented. But still, he’d had no idea that the same troubled girl was so amazingly talented. He stared in awe, listening to her sultry voice as it climbed to the soprano range and hovered there. She had a beautiful voice and it lulled him into a trance, wrapping around him like a warm blanket.

He stood there gazing at her in silence, appreciating the rare treat of seeing her stripped bare in her true element. The young woman before him was the real Natalia, the one who poured her heart into a timeless song, and he was humbled by this intimate glimpse inside her soul.

He let his gaze slide over her, drinking in her exquisite features, as she played the final notes to the song. Her inky black hair hung to her waist in soft waves completely unbound, framing her lovely face like a halo. He sat behind her in biology class and many times he’d ached to reach out and slide his fingers through her silky mane.

He continued his leisurely exploration of her figure. And though he couldn’t see much of her with the piano obstructing his view, he knew from memory that she was blessed with generous curves along her lithe

frame. In every way, she was a natural beauty, so beautiful, that in his mind, she didn’t have to sleep around to get any man’s attention. She already had it. From the moment she walked into a room, she had everyone’s attention—including his, especially his.

The music stopped and without thinking he lifted his hands and clapped. She gasped softly, her eyes growing wide as saucers as her creamy cheeks turned pink with embarrassment.

He stepped inside the room, folded his arms across his chest and propped one hip against the piano.

“That was beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said softly as she dipped her gaze toward the piano keys, the blush growing darker by the moment. He grinned, thinking that she looked adorable when she was embarrassed.

“Who taught you how to play, to sing?”

She shrugged as she stood up from the bench. “No one. I just listened to cassettes of Mozart, Beethoven, Jessye Norman, and a whole

bunch of other folks that I got from the library…” her voice trailed off and she shrugged again. “And then I just mimicked what I heard.”

He stared at her openmouthed. Her talent could rival some of the best opera singers in all of Europe, and she’d taught herself! He was speechless.