Perfect Harmony Read Online Free PDF Page A

height of fashion.  The mere thought of
how stunning she looks in that backless gown, how it teases any man to sheer unparalleled
sexual wanting by the way the low cut clings to her ample breasts, almost
revealing too much.
    And now I realise that to describe her as plump was a
complete miscalculation on my part.  What her unattractive dresses hid at the
office was a perfect curvy body - buxom breasts and wide hips to make the
perfect balance to her small waist.  It was a classic figure she had - like a
50s Hollywood starlet.  The sort of figure that has driven men wild for
generations.  Far more desirable than the skinny twigs I’m forced to plaster on
to billboards in the name of company image.  No, Melody was a real woman:
purely feminine.
    I glance at her now as we walk up the red carpet and a
droplet of sweat drips down my temple.
    But her figure does nothing to match the beauty of her
face.  Not only is she anything but plain, but she possesses that natural
beauty that, I know from experience, is rare upon so many women.  And now,
after the professional make up and style team have had their way with her, she
positively glows.  The dark mascara under those intense brown eyes, the way her
beautiful auburn locks tumble down and curl sensually over her naked back, and
the way the lipstick accentuates the ravishing nature of her full lips...
    She is incredible.  An absolute beauty, so gorgeous and sexy
that I cannot fathom how she could remain under my radar for so long.  But no
more.  Now she is the person she was meant to be.
    And I want her.
    I lead her down the red velvet carpet and paparazzi scream
out questions.
    Strong!  Strong!  Who is this?
    Where’s Mercedes?
    Who’s the sex bomb?
    Miss!  Miss!  How’s it feel being on Chase Strong’s arm?
    I give them an offhand wave and a brief smile.  But Melody
backs up, wide eyed and worry painting her face.
    She’s shivering.
    Bastards.  All they do is pry and assault my presence, day
after day.  But whether it’s outside my Tuscan villa or below my penthouse in
New York City, I’ve grown very accustomed to being mobbed by their intrusion. 
You cannot be a successful businessman and adventurous playboy without the heat
of their cameras scorching the back of your neck.  But I am used to it - Melody
is an innocent young girl.
    “Chase,” whispers Melody.  “Please, I can’t.”
    I brush off the paparazzi with a swift hand motion.  “I
think that’s enough, gentlemen.”
    They don’t listen.
    Melody’s palm clasps my bicep.  I hold her tight and briskly
escort her past the security and into the reprieve of the building’s dazzling
foyer.
    She stares at the floor, still shivering.
    “Ignore them,” I say.  “They’re nothing but vultures.”
    “All those people, they were just gawking at me.”
    I place my finger under her chin and lift her head so our
eyes meet.  “Can you blame them?”
    Her gorgeous eyes are so large and frightened, I feel a pang
in my gut and my heart twists.
    “If you need to go back and have them take pictures, then
you should go ahead.  Forget about me if that’s what you need to do,” says
Melody.
    “And what sort of gentleman would leave his beautiful date
alone to have his picture taken?”
    “I just meant, if you needed publicity, or whatever.  For
the charity.”
    I bite my lip.  She has a point.  The intention of tonight
was to take my very well documented image and connections and use them to
leverage donations for this Leukemia charity.  Certainly a worthy cause, and
the extra publicity it would offer the label would be unparalleled.
    But there was no way Melody could manage another minute
outside with those cretins.  Even at times, I find it difficult.
    “Get me through this, Chase,” she says.  “Please, just get
me through this.”
    I give her a knowing smile and nod.  “Let’s go inside.”
    She swallows so hard I can hear it, but there is gratitude
in her face.
    “You know,”