Page 22 of Singing For His Kiss

CHAPTER NINE

James reclined in his office chair, threading his fingers through his hair as he stared at the computer screen. He’d just sent the last one of many emails to Anastastia. There was yet another change she wanted to the building, something that affected a long list of other things that would now have to change. At this rate, the project would never get up and running. It was as though she wanted this project to take three times longer than it should. So much for ‘taking time off’ at the country house. He would have been better off in Melbourne. Then again, if he were there, Anastasia would be at his doorstep until the early hours. She never took the hint to leave.

The hotel heiress was more work than she should be.

Her new national hotel chain, when finished – if finished - would be massive, extending from coast to coast, but they were still stuck at the planning stage. All prospective new buildings would be copied from this prototype, so it was important to get the first one right. Every contingency catered for.

Now, with this change, he’d have to go over every cost to make sure everything was correctly adjusted from the hundreds of other changes she’d requested. It was easy to have a cost blow-out, and he wanted to be sure everything was properly accounted for. He had hundreds of staff members who depended on him, and he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance.

A delightful sound drifted into his office, one he hadn’t heard enough of. Laughter. Madeline and Elizabeth. The past hour Elizabeth had spent in Madeline’s room had been pure torture.

He’d stopped halfway through a complex calculation when he’d heard Elizabeth playing the guitar. Then she’d started singing. Then Madeline had joined her. He’d just about fallen off his seat at the sound of his little daughter singing.

The one thing she’d refused to do. Never, even when he’d taken her to music therapy and dozens of toddler and pre-school groups had anyone been able to coax her to sing. He didn’t know if it was because Hanna was a musician and somehow, wrapped up in her child’s mind, she saw music and the lack of a mother as being the same, but she’d adamantly refused.

It had taken a few strokes of some chords, and her gorgeous little voice had rang throughout the house, right alongside the husky, mature tones of Elizabeth.

God, did her voice do something primal to him.

Her voice melted every muscle in his body and stole all thoughts from his mind. He’d found himself, eyes closed, ear tilted towards the door, sitting as still as possible so he wouldn’t miss anything. He’d stayed that way for an hour, his work completely forgotten. Now it was dinner time, and he hadn’t gone anywhere near through what he needed to.

He heard Elizabeth chuckling. Her voice slid right through him, a whisper-soft caress that ignited parts that had lain dormant for so long. Stirring feelings he’d never thought to feel again.

As tough as Elizabeth thought she was, scratch the surface, and there was a woman who was soft on the inside. He’d seen that in the way she looked at Madeline. With such longing it tugged his heart. But longing for what? A child of her own?

He didn’t know much about foster homes, but he was sure she’d never had the loving arms of her own parents to hold her. She had some serious doubts about her ability to look after a child, clearly because of that trauma, but she didn’t realise her entire demeanour changed when she was around Madeline. Like a light was switched on. And now Madeline laughed and chatted and sung like the vivacious four-year-old she was. She didn’t realise how momentous this change was.

He refused to feel guilty at how grateful he was for the landslide. He’d be happy to be stuck here for the next year if it meant Madeline would laugh and sing like she was doing now.

He was also immensely grateful, even despite the circumstances, that they had crossed paths with Elizabeth. It was so secluded on here, they rarely saw anyone other than locals. It was one of the reasons they’d chosen it. Hanna could come here in peace. No one came here who didn’t belong.

Could that be the same for Elizabeth? That she’d come here because she also belonged?

Feeling grateful she was here was one thing. The very adult, less than virtuous feelings he harboured were harder to ignore. The temptation to kiss her – and more - was almost overwhelming. Had been since he’d first laid eyes on her. He had to remind himself that she was here for Madeline. Madeline was his priority. Not his lack of love life. Or his physical needs. He wiped his hands over his face. For the sake of his daughter, he would do anything, including not giving in to temptation.

He heard them go downstairs and head to the kitchen. Before the door closed, Elizabeth chuckled at something Madeline said. Even her laughter was musical. He had no idea how he came to be standing in the open kitchen doorway, but the scene inside made his breath catch.

Elizabeth held Madeline’s hand as Elizabeth showed her how to spread butter on bread. Elizabeth stood behind Madeline, her long auburn hair flowing over her shoulder, engrossed in the task. There was the hint of a smile on her mouth that made his lips turn upwards in an automatic response.

She murmured softly spoken words of encouragement into Madeline’s ear. Madeline was listening carefully, trying with intense concentration on her face to spread the butter without mangling the bread, which wasn’t so successful. Nevertheless, Elizabeth placed her hands on Madeline’s shoulders, exclaiming over her effort. Elizabeth was rewarded with an upturned face and ecstatic smile from his daughter.

The familiar pang of sadness, followed by the simmering anger, washed through him. Madeline should be sharing moments like this with Hanna. Madeline should have her mother. They should both still have Hanna. Sometimes he couldn’t forgive life.

“Daddy!”

Madeline rushed around the table and into his arms. He picked her up, to settle on his hips in a tight hug. He would never tire of having his daughter in his arms.

James looked at Elizabeth over the top of Madeline’s head. “Helping with a snack, I see?”

Elizabeth flushed, a rose-pink tone colouring her cheeks. Her plump lips were a few tones darker than her cheeks. Dusky pink. And entirely kissable. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, watching him with that unsure shadow in her eyes. He wanted very much to wipe away that look. To see confidence shining in her eyes when she looked at him. Not just confidence. He wanted to see desire when she looked at him. Desire for him radiating in those velvet brown depths.

Stop that, Rhyder. She’s here for Madeline.

Still, his insides tightened with a primal need. There was no denying it. He wanted her. Badly. He grit his teeth. He mentally re-assessed his previous thoughts. This was going to be more than mere torture.

“Yes. Liz’beth said I can learn to cook,” Madeline said.

“I see you’ve started.”

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