Page 94 of A Cozy Christmas Blizzard
He claimed her position and ran his large, masculine hands over the keys with a familiarity that caused her heart to flutter. His fingers moved over the keys with reverence. Stroking, enticing the instrument, until the music practically had the room swaying. She felt tears gather in the corner of her eyes. Slade didn’t play the piano; he made love to it.
When he’d finished, he rested his hands in his lap and slowly expelled his breath.
She sank into an easy chair. “Why didn’t you tell me you could play like that?”
A smile brightened his eyes. “You didn’t ask.”
Even her father was awestruck and, for the first time in years, at a complete loss for words.
“You could play professionally. You’re magnificent.” Her soft voice cracked with the potency of her feelings.
“I briefly toyed with the idea at one time.”
“Why didn’t—”
“I play for enjoyment now.” The light dimmed in his eyes, and the sharp edge of his words seemed to say that the decision hadn’t come easy. And it clearly was not one he was willing to discuss, even with her.
“Will you play something else?” her father asked, his shower apparently on hold.
Judging by the look he shot her father, Slade appeared to regret admitting that he played the piano. She could tell that music was his real love, and he’d abandoned it. Coming this close again was probably pure torture for him. “Another time, perhaps.”
Except that there wouldn’t be another time, not for them.“Please,” she whispered, rising to stand behind him, then placing her hands on his shoulders in a silent plea.
He covered her hand with his as he looked up into her imploring gaze. “All right, Shelly. For you.”
For half an hour he played with such intensity that his shoulders sagged with exhaustion when he’d finished.
“God has given you a rare gift,” her father said, his voice husky with appreciation. He glanced down at his mud-caked clothes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go take that shower before I start attracting flies.”
As her father left the room, she moved to Slade’s side, sitting on the bench beside him. Unable to find the words to express herself, she simply traced the sculptured line of his jaw as tears blurred her vision. The tightness in her chest made her breathing shallow and difficult.
He lifted a hand and stopped her, then brought her fingers to his lips and gently kissed her palm. She bit her bottom lip to hold back all the emotion stored in her heart.
A lone tear escaped and trickled down her pale cheek. Slade gently brushed it aside, his finger cool against her heated skin. He bent down and found her mouth with his. She realized that, without speaking a word, he was thanking her. With her, he’d allowed his facade to crumble. He’d opened his heart and revealed the deep, sensitive man inside. He was free now, with nothing more to hide.
Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed him in return, telling him in the only way she could how much she appreciated the gift of seeing his true self.
“Merry Christmas, Shortcake,” her father greeted her on the tail end of a yawn.
Shelly stood in front of the picture window, cupping hercoffee mug. Her gaze rested on the sunrise as it blanketed the morning with the bright hues of another day. She tried to force a smile when she turned to her father, but it refused to come. She felt chilled and empty inside.
“Where’s Slade?” he asked.
“The snowplows came during the night,” she whispered through the pain. “He’s gone.”
Eight
“Gone? Without saying goodbye?” A look of disbelief filled her father’s eyes.
“He left a note.” She withdrew it from her pocket and handed it to him. The message was only a few lines. He thanked them for their hospitality, and wished her and her father much happiness. And then said goodbye. Without regrets. Without second thoughts. Without looking back.
Her father looked up from the note and narrowed his eyes as he studied her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He slowly shook his head. “I’ve never seen you look at a man the way you looked at Slade. You really liked him, didn’t you?”
I love him!her heart cried. “He’s a wonderful man. I only hope Margaret and that computer firm realize how lucky they are.”
