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gossiping,
sipping drinks under the gigantic crystal chandeliers, exquisite paintings
hanging from every wall, all whilst the band continues to play.
    Melody holds me close, but I see a true smile on her lips. 
As her eyes take in the room from our vantage point, a few people spot us above
watching the crowd.
    A hush descends and slowly every person in the enormous ball
turns to us and stares.
    “They’re doing it again,” whispers Melody, trying her
hardest to not break her nervous smile.
    “Are you ready?”
    She nods.
    “Come.  Let me show you my world.”
    We descend the steps and enter the dense throng.
    As we stroll across the ballroom, I turn to each guest in
turn and offer my thanks.  Some I chat lightly with: the stockholders enquire
for trading tips, board members offering their own gratitude for my part in the
event, and my various movie star and singer friends.  The mayor shakes my hand
and raises a glass of champagne, grinning as he admires Melody under my arm. 
The other women greet me and flirt, tossing their hair back and stroking the
champagne flutes, as they always do.  But this time, they follow this with
gawking and glaring at Melody by my side, a look of dispassionate envy on their
faces.
    And no one recognises her.  Not Harmony Records’ upper-level
directors, not the stockholders and board members, and neither the employees,
despite so many passing her every single day in the lobby.
    I feel proud.  She is a treasure that I unearthed, and she
is mine.
    I extend my thanks to more guests, highlighting how
honourable their donations are and how far they help this favourite Leukemia
charity of mine, but I can feel Melody grip my arm tighter, like a scared
starling that wants to take flight.  As we move further through the crowd, I
try to stem her fears by lightly easing her forward with one hand on the naked
skin of her lower back.  And I feel a stir beneath my waist.
    It is only the gentlest touch but it is still enough for my
desire to take hold.  God, all I want to do is grab Melody and drag her
somewhere quiet, anywhere, and rip off her dress and have my way with her.  It
doesn’t matter where: my penthouse, my villa in Tuscany, hell, even my office
at the company headquarters...  Anywhere where we can be alone and together and I
can touch every inch of her skin, where I can throw her down on my bed and be
inside her.
    “Mr. Strong?”
    I wake from my daydream.
    Victoria Handel, the chairman of the charity stands in front
of me.  We shake hands and she looks up at me through her stylish wire frame
glasses.
    “Thank you so much for organising this event,” she says.  “I
never would have dreamed for a turn out this large.  Even the mayor is here. 
And we’ve already surpassed last year’s fundraising goal and the night has only
just started.”
    “I’m glad to hear it,” I say.
    “You’ve got a great catch here,” she says to Melody. 
“You’re one lucky girl.”
    Melody blushes.
    I hold her tight.  “I like to think that I am the
lucky one.”
    “Wow, a regular Prince Charming,” says Victoria.  “I don’t
suppose I could trouble you for a speech, could I?  Just a few words on the
podium, nothing big.”
    “I’d love to,” I say and smile courteously.
    I lead Melody towards the stage and the crowd parts for us
like the Red Sea.  I can feel the panic in her touch as I walk us up towards
the podium.  Her tiny hand grips my own for dear life, but I do not release her
until we are on the stage.
    With everyone’s gaze now upon us, I bend down and kiss her
lightly on the cheek.  It is only intended as an innocent and polite kiss, one
for the crowd and the fundraisers, but when my lips touch her skin, I feel them
burn and shiver.  Blood pounds in my ears and I my heart thunders against my
chest.
    All I can think about is kissing her - really kissing her. 
A passionate lust filled wild kiss, grabbing her in my arms and pulling her so
close that our skin is