The formal part of his product release over, Jackson moved through the crowd of people at his celebratory party. Champagne was flowing and the buzz in the large room was electric. Everyone wanted to shake Jackson’s hand and tell him how his technology was going to revolutionize the communications industry.

When his projector had been unveiled and the hologram was projected, the audience had gasped, then risen to their feet to applaud. In a theatrical gesture, he’d chosen a model dressed as Princess Leia for the demonstration. Next to her, he’d projected her image so there were two Princess Leias, impossible to tell apart and moving together in perfect synchronicity. A moment any geek would have been proud of.

Years of work had led to this day and it had been a resounding success. Jackson should be having the time of his life. So why wasn’t he?

“Is everything all right?” asked his date. Cindy was one of his black book women. She wore an elegant black dress, her hair was immaculately styled in a tidy bob, and her lipstick was a polite pink that matched her fingernails.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He sounded as exasperated as he felt. Bringing her had been a mistake. He didn’t want her by his side, flicking her unremarkable hair and smiling her inoffensive smile.

It made no sense to resent Cindy for not being Meghan. But he found himself wrinkling his nose because her scent was too boringly floral. He wanted chewing gum and old leather. He wanted her to have a low, husky laugh that sounded like velvet, a sharp tongue, and an open disdain for his money.

Yeah, he was all kinds of messed up. But was it any wonder, when Meghan wouldn’t even take his calls?

“Listen.” He touched Cindy’s untattooed arm. “Seems I don’t need you here tonight after all. I’ll have my driver drop you home.”

Cindy pouted, but she was far too polite to ever think of telling him to go screw himself. And for some reason he couldn’t fathom, the thought made him feel like he’d lost something irreplaceable.

“Walk me out?” she asked.

“Of course.”

But they hadn’t quite made it to the door when they ran into Jackson’s operations manager, who had a glass of bourbon in his hand.

“Derrick,” Jackson growled. “You’re drinking.”

“Had to be sociable.” Derrick stepped in close, ignoring the woman on Jackson’s arm. “You didn’t sign anything with that telco the other night, did you? I’ve been talking to his main competition. Man likes his bourbon, and he might have the goods for us.” The bald man leaned in and breathed bourbon fumes over Jackson. His fleshy mouth pulled up into a smug smile. “Wait ’til you hear the deal I put to him. You’re going to be sorry you cut me out at the conference.”

Jackson froze, startled by the bitterness in Derrick’s voice. You’re going to be sorry. His operations manager had spoken the words like a threat. Was that Derrick’s goal? And if his operations manager wanted to make him sorry, what else might he have done?

“You sold the diagram to Lex, didn’t you?” Jackson kept his voice calm, but his suspicion made him cold inside. With Derrick drunk, maybe his guard would be down and Jackson could bluff him into an admission of guilt. And if he denied the charge, Jackson would look into his eyes and hopefully be able to tell whether he was being truthful.

His operations manager paled. “What?”

“I know it was you. And I have proof.” Jackson searched Derrick’s expression. Could his dismay and confusion mean he was innocent?

“What proof?”

“Tell me why you did it.”

Derrick swallowed. His eyes flicked from right to left and his Adam’s apple bobbed. Ice spread through Jackson’s veins. The man’s guilt was written into his face.

“You may as well admit it. Lying will only make things worse.”

“Look, I’m not saying it was me. But if it was, I did you a favor.”

Fuck. Derrick had worked for Jackson for six years. He hadn’t particularly liked the man, but he’d been competent and Jackson had considered him trustworthy.

“Excuse us,” he said to Cindy. He took Derrick’s bourbon out of his hand, grabbed his arm, and led him out to the lobby. Dumping the drink into the nearest trash can, he turned on his operations manager. “I’m almost sure you did it for the money. But I pay you a lot more than Lex was offering. So why did you need an extra hundred thousand?”

Derrick closed his eyes. His face was ghostly and he looked like he was going to be sick. “I didn’t mean to give him anything. It was an accident.”

“What happened?”

“It was that night, after you told me to skip the conference because I’d had a drink or two. It was unfair, and I was angry. And then you left.”

Jackson’s jaw clenched. That meant he’d been making love with Meghan in the limo while Derrick had been betraying him.

“I got talking to Lex, and he acted like he understood. He played it like he was a nice guy, and the one who’d been treated unfairly. Him and me both. I shouldn’t have fallen for it, but it made sense at the time.” Derrick was talking faster. A plug had been pulled and the confessions were tumbling out. “I told him how my ex-wife was taking all my money. Sure, you pay me well, but when it all goes to that bitch, what am I left with? And he made it sound like he could fix everything. He’d give me cash and nobody needed to know about it. And I could make you see how much you needed me at the same time.”

Jackson nodded slowly. Somewhere deep inside, he’d known that Derrick was the person most likely to betray him. But after working so closely for the last six years, he hadn’t wanted to believe it.

“You understand what happened, right? That it was an accident?” Derrick clutched his sleeve. “I only gave him that one diagram. It wasn’t much. Not enough to make any real difference. I’d never turn on you.”

Jackson pulled his arm away. “I understand, Derrick.” He was surprised to find he really did. “But you’re fired.”

The man’s head jerked as though Jackson had punched him. “No! You can’t. You need me.”

“As of now, your position is terminated, and your non-compete agreement kicks in immediately. Talk to Lex again and you’ll have so many lawyers up your ass, you’ll need a court injunction to take a crap.” Jackson pressed his lips together. His anger was gone. All that was left was regret. “I’ll make sure you get a generous severance payment. You’ve worked hard over the last six years, and you won’t leave with nothing. But you can’t stay.”

“Please, Jackson, don’t do this. From now on, you’ll be able to trust me. I swear it.”

Jackson motioned the head of his security team over. “Derrick’s leaving now,” he told the man. “Make sure he gets home safely.” Then he turned and went back into the ballroom.

Cindy was waiting for him, and the sight of her twisted his guts almost as much as Derrick’s betrayal had, a response that made no sense. But he could hardly bear to look at her when all he could think about was Meghan.

Was there medicine he could buy to get over this feeling? An operation to wipe Meghan out of his brain and mend his heart? If there was, he should have had it years ago, because hadn’t he always been in love with her?

In love. The words gave him pause. But they fit, didn’t they?

Instead of walking back to Cindy, he found himself turning the other way. Ah, there was Freya. His assistant was circulating among Jackson’s business associates while she watched over the event with a sharp eye. If the drinks ran low or the event planners took a single shortcut, she’d handle it with her usual efficiency.

“Freya, I’ve left Cindy by the door and I want to make sure she gets home okay. Please give her my apologies, and something extra for her trouble.”

His assistant cocked her head and he got the impression she saw a lot more than she let on. “I’ll arrange it.”

“Thank you.” He wanted to say more, but couldn’t articulate how grateful he was. She hadn’t questioned why it had been so urgent to chase down Meghan the other evening, and she wouldn’t ask why he couldn’t see Cindy out himself and put her in his car. Even if she did suspect all his complicated reasons, she’d never tell a soul. “Need another raise?” he asked, only half joking. “You deserve it.”

“Wait until the end of the evening, and we’ll see whether that offer still stands.”

“What does that mean?”

She gave her head a quick shake. “I’ll take care of Cindy.”

Jackson frowned as his assistant walked away. That was odd. It sounded as though she was expecting something to go wrong, and that he might blame her for it. And she’d never avoided a direct question before.

“Jackson.” A woman’s voice distracted him from his thoughts.

“Ellie.” He greeted his friend with a kiss on one cheek, then shook her companion’s hand.

“This is Frank.” She introduced the man she was with. “My agent, and now my fiancé.” She held up one hand to show off an enormous diamond ring.

“Congratulations, both of you.”

“I should be congratulating you,” she said. “I don’t pretend to understand all the technical stuff, but your hologram machine is amazing.”

“Ellie and I were wondering if she could use it to project a concert she’s recorded so an audience could watch it in 3-D?” added Frank.

“Of course. Let’s get together next week to talk about the possibilities.”

“Where’s Meghan?” asked Ellie. “Is she here?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“That’s a shame.” She nudged her fiancé. “Meghan’s the one I was telling you about. You have to hear her sing. With the right management, she could do well.”

Frank nodded. “Do you think you could arrange it?” he asked.

Jackson hesitated. Meghan had made it clear she didn’t want any help to get to the top, but this was too good an opportunity for her to refuse. If only she’d answer her damn phone so he could tell her about it.

“I’ll do my best.” The words were barely out of his mouth when the singing started. Rising gracefully over the sound of the crowd, it sounded like velvet. It was achingly beautiful and so familiar it made his heart leap.

No, it couldn’t be her. He had to be imagining her voice. It was some kind of hallucination.

Then he caught Freya’s eye. Incredibly, her normally serene expression held a hint of trepidation.

“This sounds like Meghan,” said Ellie, giving his arm a light swipe. “Why didn’t you tell us she was performing tonight?” She turned to her fiancé. “See? What did I tell you?”

Jackson’s throat was tight. “Excuse me.” He crossed to Freya. “You did this?”

Her back was stiff and her chin lifted as though bracing for his disapproval. “Are you still willing to offer that raise?”

He was already moving toward the stage, ignoring anyone who tried to stop him. Meghan was wearing the dress she’d worn the night they’d made love in the limo. She was strumming her guitar and singing with her eyes closed, concentrating on the words of her song. And with her entire being focused on singing it, she was utterly breathtaking.

He stood in front of her, drinking her in. She was so intent on her performance, her body was vibrating. He’d always loved watching her perform. Loved her courage and her intensity. The music came from so deep within her, it was an expression of her soul.

Was it any wonder she’d claimed his heart?

It wasn’t until the last note faded that she opened her eyes. Just like that terrible night in the Laughing Frog, they widened when she saw him. But unlike that night, a beaming smile didn’t break across her face.

“Oh my God,” she said, stepping away from the microphone. “I’m so stupid. This is your party, isn’t it? You set this up.”

“Freya did. I know you don’t want my help, but she did this herself and didn’t tell me she was hiring you.”

“I thought I got this gig on my own merits.” Her mouth twisted as she jumped off the stage. “That’s just perfect. My one job, and it’s not even real.” The disappointment in her expression just about tore his heart out. But as badly as he ached to pull her into a hug, he held himself back, fisting his hands at his sides.

“Meghan, you’re a wonderful singer. You deserve to be a star.”

“I’ll settle for getting a real job.” Her shoulders slumped as she took her guitar off. “And until I do, I can’t see you, Jackson. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

“I love you, Meghan.” The words came out too matter-of-fact, so he tried again. “I love you. I want to be with you. Whether you’re a star or not won’t change that. The fact is, I’ve always loved you.”

“Jackson, please…”

“I wrote a song for you when I was eighteen.” Heart thumping, he took her guitar out of her unresisting hand and fitted its strap around his neck. The strap was too short so the guitar sat too high, but it would have to do.

“The song you argued with your father about?”

Jackson nodded, concentrating on the way the guitar strings felt under his fingertips. They were hard and unyielding, his callouses long gone. Could he remember the song’s chords? He strummed her guitar, picking out a few of the notes and getting the feel of it.

They were standing to one side of the stage, and with a few hundred of his business associates mingling and talking with each other in the big hall, the noise level was high. But he was close enough to Meghan for her to hear every word of the song that had driven him away all those years ago.

As soon as he started playing, every word and note was clear in his mind. When he’d written the song, it had flowed from his heart. No wonder it seemed fresh. All the feelings he’d had for her were stronger than ever.

He sang it softly, just for her. Gazing into her eyes, he hoped she could see what was in his heart. The people closest to them fell silent, drawing back to give him more room. And like a ripple effect the large hall slowly grew quiet, as more and more of them realized that the owner of Brent Technologies was singing a love song.

He didn’t care. It didn’t matter who else heard, as long as she did.

There’s a tune that’s stuck in my head.

A refrain plays inside me.

It beats through my blood and in my chest.

It’s a song that reminds me.

It’s the music of you.

The melody of what might have been.

A song bittersweet and true.

It’s the music of you.

There’s a rhythm I hear when I wake.

A tune always with me.

It strums on my heart and on my lips.

It’s a song that defines me.

It’s the music of you.

The melody you sing into my soul.

A song beautiful and true.

It’s the music of you.

By the time he’d finished, her eyes were glistening with tears. “That was beautiful,” she whispered. She started to say something else, but the room erupted into applause. His performance, although rusty, had been heartfelt, and his audience had consumed plenty of champagne. No wonder he could hear a few wolf-whistles amongst the applause.

With a rueful smile, he waved one hand to quiet the crowd and raised his voice. “Okay. Thank you. But save your applause, because the real star of the evening is going to sing for you again.” He turned to Meghan. More than anything, he wanted to tell them the show was over and take her away with him. To spend the rest of the night convincing her he loved her and nothing else mattered. Not her career and not his money. If they were together, they could work through any problem.

But if she sang now, with Ellie’s manager in the crowd, she could finally be signed by an agent who could give her the career she’d always dreamed off. And he needed her to be happy. So he’d just have to cool his britches and force himself to wait.

Meghan chewed her lip, wiping under her eyes with one finger. “I loved your song, and I appreciate you asking me to perform. Really I do. But I don’t want charity.”

“You think asking you to sing is charity?” He shook his head. “When she started organizing this party, I gave Freya strict instructions. I wanted nothing less than the best of everything, and that included the food, the wine, and the entertainment. And she outdid herself. I wouldn’t change a thing about tonight, and I’m certain my guests agree with me. Want me to get up there and ask them?” He motioned to the microphone. “What’s the bet they’ll cheer you back onto the stage?”

“You don’t need to do that.” She put her hand on his arm, her eyes still sparkling with unshed tears. “I want to sing for you, Jackson. I’ll get back onstage so you can hear the song I wrote for you. We can talk afterward, okay?”

Looking into those clear, blue eyes, he couldn’t help himself. He stepped forward and kissed her. A kiss that promised his heart. Promised the entire world, as much of it as he could possibly give her. And to his relief, she kissed him back, her lips parting beneath his. They had the guitar between them, so he couldn’t hold her. He couldn’t lift her into his arms the way he wanted to and carry her away.

That was probably a good thing.

He stepped back and his heart expanded when he saw the beauty of the smile that curved her lips. “We can talk afterward,” he agreed. “There’s no rush. Sing for me sweetheart. I promise, Meghan, we have all the time in the world.”

She nodded. “I love you too,” she whispered. Then she climbed onto the stage and sang.