Page 19 of Singing For His Kiss

He stared at her a few moments. “Do you mean to tell me you taught yourself?”

She shrugged an affirmative, like it was nothing, like everyone could just learn an instrument without proper tuition. And she was good. Not great. Not yet. A proper teacher would make her that.

The quality of her music came from a place of raw talent. He’d recognised it because Hanna had the same talent, only she’d been polished because of a lifetime of musical education.

“I don’t know anyone who could do anything like that.”

Numerous questions filled his mind, but the waitress brought over their order and he didn’t have a chance to ask them. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as Josephine piled the table with plates. His eyes tracked her movement, which showcased the slender curve of her neck. His gaze flowed over her perfect skin. Smooth, like silk. He narrowed his eyes, looking closer at some marks on her wrist.

“Are those bruises?”

She covered her wrist with her fingers. “Oh, it was… just an accident. At the homestead. Work can get a bit rough, you know?”

Rough, yes, but nothing that should appear like fingers snaking around her wrist. His gut clenched as he watched her tug her sleeve over her wrist. Someone had done that to her, abused her. That he wanted to hunt the guy down and punch his lights out was a startling admission.

“Enjoy.” Josephine left to collect the dishes on the next table.

Elizabeth dove into her bagel, her eyes closed as she chewed. He sat stunned, dismay washing through him. She’d been so hungry. He didn’t like to think of her being hungry. Or cold. Or wet. Or bruised. Or homeless. He absently wondered if he could put some money into her purse without her knowing. She’d know. She was so bad at accepting what she thought was charity.

Then don’t offer her charity.

“My offer still stands. Come and work as Madeline’s nanny. I will provide room, board, food, petty cash and provide an excellent salary with all benefits. You will be able to save every cent you earn. You’ll stay in-house with me,” he cleared his throat, “with us, I mean. It’s a win-win situation.”

He ignored the way her plump, very kissable lips pressed together. Ignored how her eyes tensed at the edges. Ignored the wary line that tensed her shoulders. He decided to press harder. In business, a push in the right direction usually ended favourably, and this was one decision he really wanted to turn to his favour.

“But I won’t be coming back into town, so I need your answer before I leave, Elizabeth. I need it now.”

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