Page 40 of Singing For His Kiss

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Elizabeth switched on one of the computers in the small office that was situated right next to the front door. It had obviously been designed to be used for business and was conveniently located so visitors could be ushered in without the need to traipse throughout the rest of the house.

It was a well thought out space, accommodating several workstations, a table and chairs and two facing couches with a low table in-between. She fleetingly wondered why James would choose to hole himself in a small office on the top floor instead of down here. This one was open and pleasant.

Madeline was on one of the computers next to hers, playing an Internet game, while she looked up news about the landslide. Looking at the aerial footage, it was no wonder nothing could get though. An entire section of road was simply missing, buried under tons of rocks and mud right through the middle of the mountain pass that was the only way in and out of the town. There was no hope of clearing it anytime soon. It was clear she’d be stuck here with Madeline and James for several more days at least.

Not for the first time, thoughts of James filtered into her mind. He probably thought she was an absolute mess after the ‘beach incident’ yesterday. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to let him, then all reasoning broke through and she’d reacted in the worst possible way.

He was probably holed up in that little office on the top floor again to keep his distance from her. She couldn’t blame him. She only hoped she wasn’t keeping him away from Madeline.

The child needed her father, and he always seemed to be caught up with work. He was largely pre-occupied with it, and it did affect Madeline. To a child, his huge work hours would seem like rejection.

“Shall we ask Daddy to eat dinner with us tonight?” Elizabeth asked and was rewarded with a huge smile.

“Yes. He’s always working, and I want to see him. He only comes down when you’re there.”

Remorse pinged in her chest. She hoped he wouldn’t continue to overlook his daughter when she was gone. She didn’t think it was intentional; she’d seen the light escaping beneath his office door when she’d gone to bed and still on again when she woke. It wasn’t good to work so many hours. Not for him, and not for Madeline either.

She had to wonder what drove him. She knew he had a very large business. Maria had filled her in on the details. He had a lot of staff, and the phone calls she’d heard him take were filled with answering an enormous amount of tasks.

He’d certainly made his money. Was on the top of his game. He already seemed to be at the top of his industry, so that couldn’t be driving him. The owner at the Homsestead had always been busy, and he was rich too. Henry had been driven to be successful for his family, and the need to see the next generation take over a very healthy business.

James was driven for a different reason than financial rewards. No amount of driving himself into the ground was going to change the fact that Hanna had died. He would have to stop sometimes, and in those times thoughts of his wife would still crowd back in. He was fighting the inevitable and distancing his daughter in the process.

She knew all about distancing, and rejection, and hurt, and parents who were never there.

One thing she could do before she left was help to rectify that situation. For Madeline’s sake. She’d have to set aside her unease and face him after that near kiss, but she’d have to face him eventually anyway. Helping Madeline was worth more than a little discomfort.

“Okay, then. Leave it with me.”

She listened to Madeline chat happily away about what they should have for dinner and wondered if you could actually have a meal where every course was dessert without suffering from a stomach ache.

After settling Madeline in the kitchen with Maria, she made her way back upstairs, even if it felt like the last thing she wanted to do. She stood at the closed door for a moment, fists clenching and unclenching.

Get a grip, Elizabeth. You’ve been through worse.Get over it. It isn’t about you. It’s about a little girl who needs her father.

She took a deep, steeling breath and knocked. After several moments, James opened the door. She wasn’t quite ready for the way her heart tugged, or the way her gut tightened, or the way her attention became so riveted on him, as though there were nothing else to see, know, or hear.

His chin was dusted with stubble. Darkening the line of his jaw, the angle of his cheeks. Delineating the perfect line of his mouth. His dark brows rose a fraction, surprise crinkling his forehead in subtle creases.

Warmth swallowed her in his eyes. Simmering heat lurking beneath. Temptation. Goosebumps ran over her skin. She rubbed her forearms, easing them away before he might notice them.

There were dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was haphazardly spiked, as though he’d run his fingers continuously through it. She felt a pull of guilt, thinking he might be hiding away because he wanted to. No one wanted to work like he did because they had a choice.

“Elizabeth.” His gravelly voice caressed her frayed nerves.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, nervous. His gaze traced her tongue, caressing nearly as much as a physical touch.

He was watching her, waiting for her to speak. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, mentally pulling herself together. She was here for Madeline. Right. Priorities.

“I’ve come to ask you to come to the kitchen and eat a meal with us. Madeline’s been asking for you.” Her pounding heart made her sound sterner than she’d meant.

He ran his fingers through his hair, spiking it in new directions. “For lunch? It's morning already?”

“It’s afternoon.”

He glanced at his wrist watch, surprised etched on his tired face. “Oh hell.”

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