Page 86 of 2 Books in One Bundle

“Thank you.”

“Do you always play sad songs?”

The question caught her off guard and eased some of the sexual tension building between them.

“No. I play a variety. There’re quite a few videos on my social media and a few on my website. Some are sad, some are happy, some are fun.”

“Your solo at the gala was sad.”

Her hand tightened on the cello’s neck. “I was sad. So, I played something sad.”

“Why were you sad, Evolet?”

If he hadn’t said her name, she would have been able to resist. But the touch of the personal, the genuineness in his voice made her lips part.

“Constanza moved to an elder care facility across the river a couple years ago. She’d had a bad morning the day of the fundraiser. It’s hard seeing her like that.”

“Bad how?”

“Alzheimer’s. She was diagnosed two years ago and is still in the early stages. But some days are worse than others.” She looked out at the darkening sky. “That day she kept asking for Samuel and me. We were the only ones she could remember.”

“Samuel?”

“Her son. The only biological child she had.” She smiled wistfully. “But she fostered over one hundred children.”

“And adopted you.”

“Yes. She is my mother. The only one I’ve ever really had. I went to her home and played for her. The music usually calms her.” She started to fiddle with one of the cello pegs. “And it did. Just hard to see her like that.”

“You’re doing it again.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “Doing what?”

“Downplaying what happened. Like you did at the fundraiser when you told me how you got started with the cello.”

“I don’t share my personal life with strangers.”

Silence descended. She realized they were in some sort of emotionally charged standoff as their gazes held, tension building between them as they each waited for the other to look away. His hand rose, one finger lying casually on his cheek as the others curled into a fist and eclipsed his mouth from her view.

“Play another for me.”

She blinked but didn’t waver. It almost sounded like a command, one she would have normally refused simply on the principle of saying no to an order. To establish that just as his private life was off-limits to her, so was her past to him.

But, she realized as she nodded and brought the bow up, she wanted to play for him. She wasn’t capable of fully sharing herself with anyone else. She’d done so with Constanza, would always be grateful for it. But Constanza’s diagnosis, moving out of the apartment they’d shared for nine years and into the facility, seeing the one human being she had counted on since she was a teenager become a shadow of her former self had cemented that she would never allow another person into her life. Too many times she’d gotten her hopes up. Too many times she’d been left alone.

Playing was the closest she came to a relationship. That Damon had heard her solo amid the chaos of the fundraiser, picked up on the emotions swirling beneath the notes meant something to her.

Instead of dissecting why it meant anything—or why she was driven to share with him at all—she dragged the bow across the strings once more and descended into a poignant, haunting song dripping with unrequited desire. She’d played the song before, a dozen times. But playing it for Damon in the intimacy of his office, the memory of his kiss burning on her lips, she could feel the fervor in the harmonious blending of the notes, lust and longing crashing together in a scorching spiral that promised a night of passion unlike any other.

She had never understood the story behind the song, couldn’t envision the emotions that were supposed to bleed from the sheet music into her playing.

But she did now. She’d never made love before, had never been tempted by the few dates she’d gone on. Lackluster kisses and groping hands had never inspired enough interest to take someone to her bed. Some of the women at the agency had encouraged her to try a dating app. Given that she barely had enough time for her music, her work to pay the bills and visiting Constanza regularly, she hadn’t seen the point in going on potentially disastrous first dates in search of a fleeting sensation.

Yet as she cradled the cello between her thighs and thought of Damon, thought of his hands on her skin, his lips on hers, his harsh breathing echoing her own as they’d kissed in the rain, she knew that with someone like him, making love could truly be this chaotic, this wonderful.

She opened her eyes as she neared the end. Whether he had her in his web or she had him, she couldn’t have torn herself away from meeting his stare. As he watched, his eyes devouring every movement of her fingers, the slide of her bow, the tilt of her body, she discovered it was possible to have the second most sensual experience of her life without a man ever laying a finger on her.

The song ended. Her body throbbed, deep beats that left her feeling heavy and unfulfilled. He maintained the same position he’d been in when she had started playing, his mouth hidden by his hand, his gaze focused on her. She knew he had been just as affected as she. But the fact that he remained so calm on the surface clawed at her pride.

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