Falling for Heaven (Four Winds) Read Online Free Page A

seem to fit that bill.  “I know that.  But this supports my lifestyle just fine.  The money’s good, and it allows me to take care of…things.” 
    He shifted again, definitely uncomfortable, so she stood and leaned against the wall across from him.  It wasn’t a big room, and she was still completely u nder the influence of his smell and that heat burning her insides.  It flared again when he met her eyes with his crystalline gaze.  Heather could feel the lust uncoiling in her belly, as she looked at his tee shirt stretched tight across his muscular frame.  The saliva in her mouth disappeared, and she swallowed, thickly.  She needed to change the subject.
    “What about you?  What do you do?”
    He shifted again in his seat and looked at the ground, as if debating what to tell her.  “I help people.”
    She raised her eyebrows.  “Help people do what?”
    “Find themselves,” he said simply.
    “Like a self-help guru or something?”
    He looked amused.  “You could call it that, if you wanted to.”  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “So, what did you go to school for?”
    She looked down at her feet.  “Dance.”
    He looked surprised.  “Classical Dance?”
    “Yeah, Ballet.”  She was embarrassed.
    “Let me see.”  He leaned back in his chair, and she laughed. 
    “I can’t do ballet to a Nine Inch Nails song.  Sorry.”
    “Tune it out.  I’ll hum for you.”  He finally looked comfortable, as if he'd discovered something.  His eyes danced as they looked at her, and she felt a rare blush steal up her cheeks.  Her second thoughts about being in a back room with a Bible-thumper dissipated.
    “There’s not enough room,” she protested, gesturing to the tiny room they were in.
    “Just do what you can, okay?  Please?”  For the first time tonight, he looked like he wanted to be here.
    Reminding herself that this man had just paid three hundred dollars to watch her dance, she nodded reluctantly, before taking off her high-heeled platform shoes.  Bowing her head and closing her eyes, she prepared herself to dance in a way that she hadn’t danced in over five years.
    From the chair across the room, the most beautiful tenor voice she had ever heard came from Uri’s mouth, as he began humming Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake.  Not daring to look at him, afraid that she would lose her nerve, Heather began dancing.
    Uri’s voice was astounding. But even more astounding was the fact that Heather soon lost herself to everything else but the smooth tenor tones coming from deep within him.  Rising almost to her toes, Heather danced around the room, bowing, lunging, pirouetting.  For this one moment in time, she was a ballerina, and she held her head high, in the posture of a real dancer.  She was under a spell, and the raucous sounds of the club disappeared, leaving Heather in her own world, a world where she danced as she'd never danced before. 
    Heather allowed the freedom of dancing to take over her body.  She was the inst rument, Uri's voice the muse.  The notes from his mouth flowed over her body, almost palpably, and encouraged her to move in ways she hadn't in years.  The white-hot heat that his presence brought to her body spread through her limbs, warming her, making her stretch further, extend herself.  Heather felt a euphoria that she'd never experienced in her life.
    It was as if she were under a spell or in a dream.  She was watching herself dance in a tiny room for this beautiful man with the amazing voice that was doing things within her that she couldn't name.  It was the knowledge of dreams, where Heather knew this was right.  This was what she was supposed to be doing with her life, but she had gotten off track somehow, and couldn't go back.  If only she had stayed her course back when she was younger, this was what she'd be doing.  If only…
    Uri seemed to know the entire ballet, as he didn’t just sing the main sequence.  He began at the