Page 8 of Unforgettable Billionaire (The Hardcore Novels: Special Editions #3)

I laugh at him and look back. He stands in the door frame, completely comfortable in his nakedness. The towel laying on top of his pants. I love this man!

Then he adds for brownie points. "With Sugar Bare on top?"

That makes me laugh. "You win. I’ll sing Whitney. What song did you have in mind? She has so many."

"You can pick, but I want to hear you coo too."

"Coo?"

"Coo her vocal runs."

"O.... K...." I smirk, "Whatever."

"Siri, give me your best now."

"I always give my best when I perform." I look insulted at him.

"And no dancing. Just singing." He eyes me with a serious look on his face.

"Why not? I can do both."

"I know you can, but let’s say this is an exercise in self-control."

"Excuse me? You think I need self-control?"

"Oh snap. This isn’t going the way I intended." He smirks now. "I want to hear your beautiful pipes and I don’t want you to dance yet. I’m not ready for the feeling I will get when I watch you. I need sleep first."

I lean forward and smile. "Good recovery. I’ll try."

"There is no try. Do."

I smirk back. "Master Yoda, close your eyes."

"Watch, I will." His eyes crinkle with his laugh. "Extra motivation I will give you. If you belt a full-on rendition of Whitney AND not dance a single step, just stand there and sing, then I’ll not only be on top tonight, I’ll give you both a wild ride and one to remember."

My eyes twinkle wickedly into his and he grins at me. "Challenge accepted."

He leans on the door frame, grinning at me very pleased with himself as I walk to the center of the room. I stand silently, thinking of which song to choose. Then I hit upon the perfect one. I smile, knowing tonight will be one wild night I won’t ever forget.

I look down at the floor and remember my instruction all those years ago when my voice coach wanted me to harness and control my emotions, allowing my feelings to flow through my vocal cords instead of dancing out of my body.

He told me, "Your ears are absorbing the song into your heart and with each beat it fills your soul with overflowing joy.

It is a gift you have been given. But you must learn to harness this uncontrollable urge to dance and turn it into an unforgettable singing performance.

I will teach you to control it and allow your joy to flow through your vocal cords.

You will sing a cappella until further notice. "

I clear my throat, take the posture I was taught, take several deep breaths, then relax my shoulders, look up at the ceiling, and find my center.

Then I hear Cat’s words as she hugged me in the beginning before each Surreal performance when I was nervous and didn’t really believe in myself yet. "Siri, let your talent go, Baby, go! Believe in yourself. Diva-ness is in the details."

To which I would say with fake confidence as I took a deep breath and stood behind the curtain waiting for my cue. "I got this. Let’s do it."

When I walked out and became the Diva I was impersonating that night, I would hear her cheer, "Faster, Bitch, faster!" And afterwards she would say, "Fuck yeah! You were brilliant."

To which I would reply, "Fuck me! I did it!"

Diva-ness is in the details and I am a Diva of details.

I see Whitney Houston in my mind’s eye and transform myself, taking on her persona of sweetness along with her elegance, grace, and beauty. She was a Divine Diva with the voice of an angel and deserves to be represented that way.

When I look back at Aurei, I am a Divine Diva and I tell him as if I’m performing on a stage in front of a massive audience. "Maximus Aurelius Moore, you are my heart, my hunk and my hero."

I hum the musical score before I begin singing and when I start, I give him everything I have.

My eyelids droop, I tip my head back and I express my love for my soulmate.

Singing softly at first, completely controlling my breath, my expressive tone and my delivery, I have to release the full range of my natural vibrato to sing the song the way Whitney did.

His amused grin at my theatrics falls off his face and he stands up straight with a look of stunned silence on his beautiful face as I sing, "I Believe In You and Me" from the Motion Picture "A Preacher’s Wife.

" My performance leaves no doubt what I believe about this beautiful thing we have found.

He is my one, my only, my every thang too and I love him.

He smirks, and gives me a man nod when instead of calling him "Boy," I call him "Bare."

I sing to him that we were both lost, but now found and free, that I will always be open to him, and that he is the only one who has ever been deep down inside my soul where the wildness lives.

As the song gets more passionate, I belt the words, telling him he is my miracle, my dream come true, and I truly believe in me and you.

Us! When I finish, I pause for just a moment, then say, "I love you, Sugar Bare. "

With tears shinning in my eyes from the tremendous emotion required to put forth a delivery it that way, I turn away to hide them from him.

"Siri," I hear him call my name. His voice is husky with emotion too and it sounds deliciously sensual in the silence.

Unable to look back without the dam breaking in my eyes and not wanting to turn a beautiful performance into a blubbering sobbing messy one, I simply acknowledge I heard him with a tinkling finger salute, then walk away.

A few steps toward the kitchen, I manage to throw him a sassy response over my shoulder. "Like that?"

He says softly, "Just. Like. That."