Page 30 of Vicious Games

By the time I had completed the measures of the opening Un poco lento, I was completely lost in the music. My fingers caressed the keys as I moved effortlessly from one movement to the next. When I came to the dramatic recitative, which led into the bridge passage, I played with dramatic gusto. At the Adagio motto e cantabile melody, I spared a glance in Roman’s direction.

He was leaning against the far-right balustrade on the stage, arms crossed, his entire attention focused on me. The sight caused a flutter in my stomach. I adored how he looked when he watched me play. It was in those moments I could almost believe he felt something close to love for me.

After a rapturous passage, the music returned to its more somber gloom with the final Un poco lento.

My fingers stilled on the last of the notes, depressing the keys and letting the music slowly fade. I then leaned back and folded my hands in my lap.

Roman’s hands came to rest on my shoulders. I gave a slight start. I had been so caught up in the music, I hadn’t noticed him move.

“That was beautiful, my darling.”

I didn’t respond. I was too overwhelmed.

“Now play Moonlight Sonata for me.”

I knew it was his favorite piece, mine as well. He often requested I play it for him, especially late at night. He would sit by the fire with a brandy and just have me play it over and over again with this far-off look in his eyes.

Roman stayed behind me with his hands on my shoulders as I played. The deceptively simple notes filled the Hall. Most felt this was a dark and gloomy piece, but I had always focused on the bright, uplifting notes. They were like small rays of sunshine peeking through a storm-filled sky.

Once again, I closed my eyes and became lost in the music. I knew every note as if they were a part of me, as if they were the very rhythm of my heartbeat.

When the final strains drifted softly into the air, I opened my eyes to find Roman down on one knee before me. He was holding a bright silver ring box with the most uniquely beautiful ring I had ever seen.

I blinked several times. “Roman, what are you doing?”

He took my suddenly chilled hand in his own. “From the first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you had to be mine. Until that moment, my life had been shrouded in darkness, but when I beheld your sweet innocence and then heard you play with such deep intensity and wonder, I knew I had finally found a woman worthy to be called my wife. You didn’t bring sunshine into my world, you brought the dawn. My beautiful Aurora, like your namesake, you are a complex burst of radiant color and new beginnings for me. Now that I have felt your warmth and light, I must capture it and hold it close. I can never let you go. You have become not only my light, but my air, my blood, my life. Aurora Evelyn Barlowe, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

My lips trembled as my eyes filled with tears. It was the single most moving speech I had ever heard. As I gazed down into his dark eyes, I could not only see, but feel deep down in my soul that he had meant every exquisite word. It was perfect in every way but one. One specific word, to be exact.

He had never mentioned the word love.

My heart shattered into a million pieces as I finally faced the truth I had been denying since this man had first taken over my life like a dark storm.

Roman Winterbourne was capable of many great, miraculous things. He had overcome a harsh upbringing as an orphan to build a formidable empire of wealth and power. He had even made what would have been an unachievable dream for me come true this evening. Yes, he could do amazing, impossible things.

But he could never love me.

I didn’t think he was even capable of the emotion.

To me, love was compassion, empathy, companionship, and friendship.

To Roman, love was obsession, possession, and complete control.

I could have overlooked our past, our age difference. I could have even forgiven his role in the events that led to my parents’ deaths, but I couldn’t look past his inability to love. Soon our passion would fade and without love, we’d have nothing but bitterness and regret.

I slowly shook my head as the tears fell down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Roman, but my answer is no, I can’t be your wife.”

CHAPTER 13

ROMAN

I slammed the study door shut and marched straight to the sideboard. Eschewing the finer brandy, I reached into the cabinet and snatched up a bottle of whiskey. I grabbed a crystal glass and moved over to the fireplace, splashed a generous portion of whiskey into the glass and shot it back. I repeated the gesture a second, then a third time. About halfway through my third glass, I threw the whole thing into the fire, relishing the brief but satisfying blue flame flaring up.

Goddamn her.

I leaned my forearm on the marble mantelpiece and stared into the flames. In this moment, it wasn’t enough to watch the fire turn a log into ashes. I wanted the whole fucking world to burn.

For the first time in my entire jaded life, I had actually come close to feeling a true emotion. I had almost believed what I had said in my proposal. Only to have her say no.

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