Page 130 of A Night with Damien Spur

Marc Castle appeared. He stood next to the mixing desk, his eyes fixed on the studio floor, arms crossed, propped against the wall. He seemed calm, in command, sexy. Damien wondered if he’d slept with Ariana.

Come on, why speculate? What’s it to you? The Voice was back again.She’s an artist– treat her with respect.

Ariana made her entrance like a travelling minstrel. Cradling her guitar, she drifted barefoot across the studio to sit cross-legged in the middle of the floor.

She smiled up at the control room and, placing the cans over her ears, adjusted the microphone and strummed a few chords.

‘Ready when you are,’ she said brightly.

***

It was different hearing Ariana sing the song in a recording studio. He missed the closeness of that wonderful week they’d spent together working late into the night.

She was the high priestess, his teacher, mother. But not his lover. Despite her beauty and sensuality, he hadn’t played the seducer.

He remembered her words…

‘This is how love feels, Damien. Write my passion,’ she’d said. ‘Be Sandra – leave a lasting memory for Samuel, your great love.’

Damien shut his eyes and let his mind drift beyond the studio walls, carried by the sound of Ariana’s sensuous voice.

He mouthed the lyrics with her.

Can’t you stay forever?

Do you have to leave?

There’s nowhere to go,

Nowhere to hide;

Warm on the inside and cold outside.

Be my darling,

Hold me tight.

Don’t let the night-time shroud the light.

Kindle the flame;

Don’t blow it out.

Warm on the inside, cold outside.

Can’t you stay forever?

Do you have to leave?

There’s nowhere to go,

Nowhere to hide,

Warm on the inside and cold outside.

Nowhere to go,

Nowhere to hide,

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