Page 38 of Singing For His Kiss

“Can we come down again after lunch?” Madeline asked.

“We’ll have to see if it rains or not.” He glanced at the ominous gathering of clouds. The weather had broken, but it seemed it was far from over.

Elizabeth held bits and pieces Madeline had handed her from the rock pools. Shells. Stones. Smooth glass.

“Here. Let me.” He took the collection from her cool fingers and shoved them in his pockets. It would have been the most natural thing in the world to hold her hand, but instead he said, “We’ll wash these at the house.”

Elizabeth’s eyes lit. “I have the best idea for Madeline. Do you have a large glass jar? We could dry them out and fill the jar with whatever we find when we come here. Make a little collection from the beach for her room.”

His soul darkened with a touch of sadness.

“What is it?” Elizabeth asked.

He hadn’t realised she’d been looking at him. “It’s nothing. Just…”

“Tell me.” When she looked at him, her entire focus was just on him. Her gaze radiated concern. For him.

“I thought Madeline would have her mother to do these things with her. These little things.”

Shadows darkened her eyes. She nodded, and he knew. She understood. The yearning. The emptiness. Anger over what could have been. Sadness that it never would. That life goes on despite wanting it to rewind. Of course Elizabeth would understand. Not many people did. Not in that complete way you felt in your soul. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was.

“I’m so sorry Hanna died.”

She reached out, cupped his cheek. The action stole his breath. Her palm, so warm, so soft. Her thumb stroked his cheek. Once. Twice. He stayed as still as he could just so she would keep on touching him. It was a tonic. A balm. Genuine. He could have her touch him like this on his cheek—forever.

His hand closed over hers, just touching lightly, his fingertips skimming over her fingers slowly, memorizing every dip and ridge. Her fingers were cold, but inner warmth melted through the frozen exterior.

Her thumb touched the corner of his mouth, and heat exploded, sudden and deep. Heat and a needy desire to replace her thumb with her lips. To feel them pressed against her mouth, urging, caressing. His gaze had never left hers. He knew the exact moment compassion was replaced with awareness. Answering interest. The slightest tightening around her eyes. A sharpening of her gaze.

He bent towards her, the slightest move, yet it could have been as though he lunged at her. She gasped, pupils dilating, mouth opening, shock, then she jerked back, tugging her hand away. The magic disconnected.

Hell on Earth. What was he thinking?! Elizabeth was here for Madeline only. She was strictly off limits.

“I’m sorry. I…”

It was stupid of him making a move like that on her. He shouldn’t have done it, but at the same time he was helpless to do anything else. But he’d seen an answering attraction in her.

But maybe he’d been wrong.

“It’s nothing.” She turned, hid her face. Started walking away.

He frowned. “Elizabeth?”

He called her name again, and it took her a moment to realise he’d spoken. When she looked at him, she was frowning, dazed. A thousand miles away.

She blinked and cleared her eyes. “Yes?”

“Where were you?”

A stricken look crossed her face. She’d been in a dark place. She shook her head, but it didn’t rid the tense lines around her eyes and mouth. “I don’t…it’s nothing.”

Her eyes opened wider, and she looked at him as though she was watching every move he made. Waiting. Wary. Then realisation crashed into him with a sickening crunch.

It made sense. Her nervousness, her guardedness. Something bad had happened to her. To sweet, sweet Elizabeth. She’d been mistreated…or worse. Nausea rolled in his gut. He reached out, took her slender wrist in his hand. The yet-to-fade bruises looking too much like the imprint of thick fingers. Every nerve fibre in his body jerked with anger.

“What did he do to you?”

“I…he…nothing. I mean, no one has done anything to me.”

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