Page 32 of Singing For His Kiss

“I put some of Hanna’s songs on there for you,” James said.

She glanced up at him in surprise. “You have?”

He shrugged as though it was no big deal, but it was a big deal. To her. “I thought you might like to learn what Hanna liked, from a musician’s point of view.”

“But I’m not a musician,” Elizabeth said.

A small smile curved his lips. The warmth in it was spell-binding. “I’ve heard you sing. And play. You’re a musician.”

‘But I’m not that good…I told you. I haven’t even had any lessons. I know how to play properly.” She didn’t know if she felt uncomfortable or pleased he’d even notice. Then again, he did seem particularly interested in her ability to play.

“It doesn’t matter. The thing I learned from Hanna is that being a musician isn’t about what you’ve learned; it’s about how the music feels. She was classically trained. It took her years to be able to play like she did. She had the time and opportunity. But with you…” His words slowly faded as he became lost in thought.

“With me?”

Moments passed before he whispered, “You make people feel with your music.”

She blinked slowly. Why was he saying this to her? Why would he offer her a statement that was clearly very personal?

She fidgeted with the handle of her mug. “I was just trying to entertain Madeline. That’s all.”

The gaze he lifted to her was so sad, the impact was almost physical. “I have to be honest. That room was off limits.”

Her breath stuck in her lungs. She knew it. “I won’t go in there again…”

He held out a palm in a placating gesture. “Was, being the operative word. Just hearing you today with Madeline made me realise it’s doing nothing, being closed off to the world like that. It was Hanna’s room, but she can’t use it anymore. She never would have wanted it to be like that. She always had people there, she was always in there playing. It was a room of sound, light, people, laughter. You being in there made me remember why we made it in the first place.”

Elizabeth licked dry lips. She didn’t want to dishonour Hanna’s memory. She was James’ wife. Madeline’s mother. And she was… well, she was no one, really. Someone who breezed through the door a few days ago.

“I don’t want to make you change anything. You built it for Hanna. It should stay that way.”

James reached across the table, threading his fingers through hers. She stared at their entwined fingers, her heart beginning to race. A jolt of warmth spread from her hand, up her arm to swirl around her chest. She liked this contact with him, but it scared her. The last thing she needed was to fall for another man. Not now. Not ever again. Her heart was too shattered, she was too broken. She had to protect her heart.

Too late, a voice whispered in the back of her mind, but she grit her teeth and kicked the errant thought into the pit of unwanted emotion she locked away.

“I…I don’t want you to change it for me.”

James squeezed her fingers. “That’s exactly what you’ve done, Elizabeth. You changed it for me.”

She stood up, the chair scraping backwards with a harsh sound across the tiled floor. “I didn’t mean to change anything. I’m sorry.”

James stood, confusion washing his features. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Elizabeth. I’m trying to say you’ve made it better. For Madeline. For me. I should have opened that room a long time ago. I should have let Madeline play that piano. I should have done a lot of things.”

But he hadn’t done anything with it until she came here. What was it about her; about this…this thing…between them.

“Why change now?”

He drew a deep breath, his eyes flashing with shadows. And pain. So much pain, she didn’t think she could stand looking at him.

“You’re good for Madeline.”

She’s good for me, too. And James. James is very good for you, too.

Elizabeth closed her heart against that little voice. The voice was wrong and piping up much too frequently. Besides, it was wrong. She wasn’t even good for herself.

She took a steeling breath, as well as the phone, needing to get away from this room as fast as she could. This conversation. These feelings. James had the knack to bring her to her emotional knees with a simple look and a few words.

“I’m glad. I… I’m really tired. I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks for the phone. I’ll take good care of it.” She opened the kitchen door.

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