Page 49 of Singing For His Kiss

“To me, this room is beautiful, but Madeline is half-Hanna. You still have Hanna with you. In Madeline,” Elizabeth said.

James sighed softly. “I never thought about it that way.”

“Never?”

He shrugged. “I guess it’s been such a struggle, I never had a chance to think about it that way. I’ve just been surviving in a way, but…you’re right. She is still here.”

“In a big way.” Elizabeth smiled, remembering Madeline’s fascination with the piano, and singing. She didn’t seem happier than when they sang together. Maybe James was right; she was good for Madeline.

“I catch glimpses of Hanna in Madeline. A look, or a movement, but then I counterthink myself, thinking I’m imagining it. I guess I’ve been more concerned with giving her everything she needs,” James said.

“You are. You’re here every day, aren’t you? I know it’s hard doing it on your own, but that’s more than I can say about some parents. Believe me, I’ve experienced all types. Losing one parent is bad enough; she’d be permanently scarred losing two,” Elizabeth said, more than a trace of bitterness in her voice.

“Life’s been tough for you, too,” James said.

Elizabeth exhaled. “You have no idea.”

“Did you ever know your parents?”

Elizabeth frowned. “Vaguely. I remember a mother. I wasn’t a baby when she gave me up. Two years old, I think.”

James tucked a strand of her hair over her shoulder and then placed his warm palm on her neck. He soothed the skin at the junction of her neck and shoulder. She worked hard to still the delicate shiver that stole up her spine.

“What was she like?”

“All I really remember is being hungry all the time. My foster parents would sometimes tell me about her, and by the stories, she probably did me a favour. At least she gave me to people who fed me. Sent me to school. Made sure I was clothed.” It hadn’t been fancy, but she did receive the basics.

“Is she still alive?” James asked. His fingers threaded into her scalp, where he gently massaged. Her shoulders relaxed into his pleasant ministrations.

Elizabeth shrugged. “I don’t know. Some kids got to see their biological parents, but she never came back. She’s probably forgotten all about me.”

James’ fingers stilled. “Oh, Elizabeth. No one could forget you. You’re completely unforgettable.”

His voice was a low growl. His eyes glinted in the chandelier lighting, heavy lidded and determined. He moved towards her, securing her with his hand on her neck. Not that she wanted to move. She was pinned to the spot.

He pressed his lips against hers. His kiss was demanding this time. He captured her mouth, suckling her lips, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth to dance against hers. He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue before capturing her lips with a groan. His movements were urgent, commanding, and she was helpless but to respond.

A hand clung to his shoulder, the other to his waist. The heat from his skin seared through the material of his shirt. He wound his other arm around her waist. His fingers splayed around her hip, and he slid her along the seat so their thighs touched, hip to knee.

He pulled back, panting a little, touching his forehead to hers. His hand slid from her nape to caress her cheek. His thumb traced her bottom lip, plump and wet from his kiss.

“You believe me, don’t you? You are an extraordinary woman who has brought so much light into my life where I could see only darkness. You’re special, Elizabeth. So special.”

She didn’t want to believe him, but he sounded so raw and honest, she might just admit he found her so. Coming from James, those words were a flickering light. That one true internal light that had resolutely refused to be lit. Now it shone so bright, it took her breath away. She couldn’t deny him. Deny herself. Any longer.

She melted against him, fingers clenching his shirt. He massaged his lips against her before plunging firmly against her. He nibbled her lower lip, pushed inside her mouth with his tongue, delved long and slow and sweet before pulling back and sucking both her lower and upper lip.

She was quickly spiraling into a sensual haze, her consciousness narrowing in anticipation of what he would do next. She matched him, move for move, gasping against his onslaught, anchoring herself against him. He was her one true compass in a swirling mass of growing desire.

She kissed him back, slowly losing herself in his touch, his mouth, his taste because this might be the last time someone would care for her with such reverence. Didn’t she deserve a little of that at least once in her life?

“You’re so soft, Elizabeth. So beautiful,” James said.

She gasped in response, tilting her head back so he could trail heated lips along her jaw line to nip along her neck to the collar of her shirt. His fingers edged the hem of her shirt from the waistband of her jeans. Her flesh jolted as he splayed his palm over her waist, fingers massaging their way along her rib cage to finally press against her breast.

He cupped her plump flesh, thumbing her hardened nipple, sending spirals of sensation zipping to her core. Her fingers trailed over his biceps, delighting in the way his muscles undulated with every exquisite move of his hands. She could do nothing to stop him, nor did she want to. She wanted that mouth on her, those hands on bare skin, that body hard up against her.

“Yes. Please. More,” she groaned.

---