Cutler 02 - Secrets of the Morning

taking my shoulders in his hands and holding me out before him as he drank me in with that titillating fixed look of his. "You are already wonderful with your natural talent," he continued, "but when you do it correctly, you will reach the full height of your potential and you will become a true diva. They will flock to you and thrill just to be in your shadow.
    "Do .you know what happens to me when I'm with someone like you?" he continued, making me tremble more with each and every wonderful word. "I feel younger, stronger, able to go on and do even greater things. It makes me want to stretch out my own talents, extend myself further than I had ever dreamed."
    He laughed and released me. Then he went to the piano and tapped on a key to give himself a note. As soon as he had, he vocalized the scales, holding his arms out toward me as if he were singing the most romantic love song. Then he did begin to sing a love song, a song he had made famous. He beckoned me to join in and indicated I should use the sheet music on the piano, but I shook my head. I knew the music well.
    When I started to sing along with him, his eyes widened with pleasure and surprise. He stepped closer to me to take my hands into his and we sang to each other just the way we would sing were we on the stage in front of an audience. My voice intertwined with his, he taking me up higher and higher. His fingers tightened on mine and he drew his face closer to my face as the song came to an end.
    On the stage it ended with the man and woman kissing. And so did it end this way now, even though I never thought he would actually do it. First, I felt his hot breath on my face, and then as he continued to draw me closer to him and himself closer to me, I knew it was going to happen. I closed my eyes and his lips touched mine, softly at first, almost as if we were both made of air, and then, he pressed his mouth firmly onto mine. The contact sent an electrifying flash of heat through me. I felt myself go limp. He held onto me and then slowly lifted his lips from mine. My eyes fluttered open and I gazed up into his, which seemed to call to me with such passion and desire, I could only stare and wait to see what he would do next, for I recalled what he had told me in the cafe: "Passion makes us desperate."
    I was both frightened and thrilled by my thumping heart. I was afraid I would fall into a faint again.
    "I had to do that," he said softly. "You sang so well. For a moment I thought I was really on the stage and when I'm on the stage, I do what is called for, what must be done to make the music real to the audience. That's the mark of a professional. I'm sure you understand?'
    I didn't, but I nodded.
    He smiled at me, gazing at me intently again with those dark piercing eyes.
    "We've had a very productive lesson," he said. "How do you feel?"
    I was feeling so many different things at the moment, I didn't know how to respond. I was still overwhelmed by his kiss and still trembling from his touch and intense gaze.
    "Fine," I finally said. He laughed and kissed my forehead.
    "You're a very beautiful young woman, do you know that?" he asked. "It's rare to find someone with such a beautiful voice who also has such a beautiful face. I'm not embarrassing you, am I?"
    I shook my head slowly, my eyes still locked in his stare.
    "I wouldn't talk like this with any of my other students, but I sense that you are special. Your talent makes you different, makes it possible for you to be older faster because you are more perceptive, more sensitive. Like me, you grow with every passing moment and with every experience.
    "Educators don't know anything about this," he said disdainfully, his face filled with disgust. "They do things by the book, even in a school like this; but we'll be different because we are different. You don't mind, do you?" he asked. I wasn't sure exactly what he meant, but I said no anyway, my "no" coming out so softly, I wasn't sure myself whether or not I had actually spoken.
    "Good!" he exclaimed. "Good," he repeated softly and then he spun around quickly and went to the chair where he had placed his things. He began wrapping his scarf about his neck, smiling at me as he did so.
    "I've got to run off," he said. "I have a dozen errands to do. I'm having a few people over tonight. Nothing special, just some hors d'oeuvres and champagne." He stared at me a moment and then he picked up his jacket and put it on as he approached me again.
    "Can you be