Page 81 of Singing For His Kiss

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The crowd hushed a little as she started to play the last song of the night. To her, the world dropped away except for the music. The melody filled her, the words became her. She was just the instrument through which the richness of the song could live while it was played.

She drew a breath to start singing the next verse when a male voice cut in early, coming from somewhere in the crowd. She twirled about, fingers falling on the wrong keys, the notes clashing. Her chest constricted.

James.

Holding a microphone.

Singing.

Her notes faltered, the rhythm hiccupped, but she managed to keep playing. Couldn’t stop.

He was here. Singing. To her!

He walked towards her, his eyes trained right on her, stopping next to her. He sang as she played, completely mangling the tune, never dropping eye contact. She almost forgot to breathe.

She drank in the sight of him like liquid in dry sand. He looked so good. So handsome. More vibrant than any memory could possibly serve. She was hot and numb and everything else all over. Ecstatic, horrified, crushed, overwhelmed. Every emotion she could possibly name, had ever felt, fused and whirled through her, mind, body and soul.

He had found her. No one had gone to the trouble of finding her once she’d left. No one ever. Apart from David, and look how that turned out. She’d imagined herself as a piece of garbage thrown from a household and no longer thought about once she wasn’t there anymore. But this…this was different.

James was different.

Anastasia had told him where she was. That’s what she’d meant when she said she’d take the decision out of her hands. She almost couldn’t comprehend the tumult of emotions whirling inside of her.

Elizabeth clawed behind the half-crumbled wall she’d tried so valiantly to re-erect around her heart, but as he sang to her, it crumbled until there was nothing left. Her soul stood naked before him. There was no hiding. No running. Only standing for judgment in the keenest possible way.

She was flayed. She’d never been so raw. She looked up at him for recrimination but found…hope. And sincerity. And…

She didn’t dare look any further. She just…sang. With him. Let her soul just fly without the weight of her mind to drag her down. She listened to her soul, and it told her the truth.

Her fingers stopped moving. The music ended. She flew from the piano stool, tears blinding her vision, heat clogging her throat, and threw her arms around his neck, trembling so violently, she could hardly stand. She breathed deep, dragging his scent into her, emotion taking control over her lungs. One shaky breath. Two. His arms folded around her. Tightening as though he was never going to let her go.

She couldn’t help the tears. They rained from her eyes and down her cheeks. She trembled from the inside out, arms shaking, legs threatening to give out. She gripped the back of his shirt, her fingers clenching the material. It took her a moment to realize he was doing the same.

He took her face in his palms and pressed his mouth to hers. Shaking. Tentative. She couldn’t help kissing him, one, two, twenty times. He pressed his lips to her cheeks. Her eyes. Her forehead.

“I’ve missed you. God, I’ve missed you.”

She sobbed out loud. It was too much to hope for. Too much to expect. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. So sorry.” She thought she’d be able to construct logical sentences if she saw him, but now that he was here in her arms, all she could do was sob apologies.

He palmed back her hair, her face, as though he could rub away her hurt just like her tears. “Don’t say that. Stop. It’s okay. It’s not your fault, Elizabeth. Shhhh, stop crying. Don’t apologise.”

“I shouldn’t have come. Shouldn’t have stayed. Shouldn’t have done any of it.” Her words tumbled from her mouth in near disarray, pushing against each other for release.

“Then I’d have missed out on receiving the gift of falling in love with a true angel,” he said.

Her breath hitched. “How can you say that, James? David kidnapped Madeline. If I wasn’t there. If I’d never met you…it wouldn’t have happened to you. It was all my fault. I let a monster into your house. I let him kidnap Madeline!”

“It wasn’t your fault, Elizabeth.” She looked up at him. Such pain on his face. In his eyes. Unrestrained truth alongside.

“But I…” Her heart hammered. The guilt that clawed at her was a tangible thing.

He held her still, caught in the cage of his arms so she couldn’t move. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“But…”

He repeated himself in that calm, gentle voice, “It wasn’t your fault.”

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