An Unexpected Song (7 page)

“Why?” His gaze searched her face. “You said yourself he’d be okay by the time he came home.”

“Yes, he’ll be fine.” She pulled on her gown and quickly fastened the bodice before thrusting her feet into the black ballet slippers. She looked around on the ground, but she couldn’t find the combs Jason had taken from her hair so she ran her fingers through her hair to tidy it. “But it’s time I got back to him.”

“Not yet.” He stayed where he was on the grass. “Talk to me.”

“I told you—” She stopped and reached down to pick up her shawl from the grass. “Why are you interrogating me? You told me yourself that sex would be a form of therapy. What did you say? ‘Just a romp in the hay to get it out of our systems.’ No strings and—”

“Dammit, those were your words and you know it’s not like that now.” His voice was harsh with
exasperation. “I care about you. I want to help you. Why won’t you talk to me?”

“There’s nothing to say.”

His smile held a touch of bitterness. “You could tell me why you used me.”

The word shocked her. “I didn’t use you.” She knew as soon as she said it that it wasn’t the truth. She had used him to hold away the pain, but she hadn’t meant to. “Perhaps I did. But no more than you used me.”

He stood up and began to dress. “Did you feel used, Daisy?”

She remembered that moment when he had touched her cheek with exquisite tenderness and the joy and wonder it had brought. She had felt swept away, treasured, possessed. Used? Never.

“No.” The night chill was beginning to reach her now that she was no longer touching him. She took a step back and wrapped the fringed shawl around her. “Can we go back now?”

For an instant she thought she saw a flicker of hurt in his expression, and then it was gone. “Sure.” He pulled his crew-necked sweater over his head and settled it about his hips. “Why not?” He gestured mockingly toward the path. “After you.”

She opened her lips to speak and then closed them and started down the path.

His soft words followed her. “But you should know this is the last time I let you lead the way. From now on I’m on the initiative.”

She glanced at him warily over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

He smiled crookedly. “I mean, one time wasn’t enough. Not for either of us. It’s going to take more than once to do the job.” He paused. “I
mean I’m going to get you into the sack at the earliest possible convenience and repeat the experience over and over and over.”

She felt the breath leave her body. “I don’t think—”

“Don’t worry, I have no intention of any major interference in your life. I’ll take what I can get. Now. All I ask is that you come to my room at the hotel every night after the performance. We can spend a few hours indulging ourselves in pleasure, and then I’ll take you home.” He lifted his brows quizzically. “I trust you’re in agreement?”

She gazed at him uncertainly even as a reminiscent tingling started between her thighs. Their lovemaking had been so powerful, she was still trembling from it, and there was no question she wanted him again. What would it be like when they learned each other’s bodies and knew how to please each other? She would probably be foolish to pursue a path that led to sensual addiction. Dear heaven, she wasn’t sure she wasn’t already on that path.

Yet, she
needed
him. For those moments in his arms she had forgotten everything but the pleasure he was giving her. She needed that release if she was going to make it through the weeks ahead. He had made it clear he wanted no permanent commitment, but there was no reason she shouldn’t take the comfort he could give her. “I … don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” She started down the rock-strewn path again.

“One more thing.”

He was still smiling, but she could sense a hardness in him she hadn’t seen since those first days of their acquaintance. “Desdemona,” he
said. “I’m not going to lie to you. I still intend to get you for Desdemona.”

The golden hiatus was over, the challenge was thrown down.

She silently shook her head and turned and strode down the mountain.

Charlie was sitting in his favorite easy chair facing the piano and grimaced ruefully when Daisy walked into the cottage. “I made an ass of myself, didn’t I?”

“No, I know it’s difficult for you.” She closed the door and took off her shawl. “All great artists have temperament. Look at Van Gogh. He cut off his ear.” She tilted her head. “Both of yours appear to be in place.”

“I’d give an ear for his talent.” He stretched out his legs in front of him. “Hell, I’d give an arm or a leg. Where’s Jason? Did I scare him off?”

“No.” She avoided looking at him as she draped the shawl over the back of the chair at the kitchen table. “We went for a walk and then he went back to his hotel.”

“I was rude to him.”

“He understood.”

Charlie nodded slowly. “He’s a complicated man, but I think he’s capable of understanding a great deal.” His gaze narrowed on her across the room. “He’s the one, isn’t he?”

She stiffened. “The one?”

“The one who will bring you the joy I knew with your mother.” He smiled gently. “I’m glad he came now, Daisy. Don’t be afraid to reach out and grab the brass ring just because my carousel is winding
to a halt. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be happy and safe.”

“It’s not like that.” Her words came haltingly. “We’re just friends, Charlie.”

He shook his head. “Don’t lie to yourself. You love him. Life’s too short to waste even a minute of it deceiving yourself.”

“No, I … you’re wrong. I don’t—” Her eyes widened in shock as the mysterious knowledge that had eluded her while Jason was looking down at her suddenly emerged bright and shining from the mist. Joy and tenderness, the desire to nurture as well as hold. Love. “How did you know?” she whispered.

Charlie smiled and got to his feet. “I always had a keen artist’s eye.” His smile faded. “Too bad I don’t have the talent to match.” He started toward his bedroom and paused at the door to look back at her. His expression was loving as he repeated softly, “Go for the brass ring, Daisy.”

The next moment the bedroom door closed behind him.

Daisy turned out the light and moved jerkily toward her bedroom. How had it happened? She had never intended to fall in love with Jason Hayes. She couldn’t even have named the moment wariness had eased into desire, sympathy, and admiration, nor when friendship had turned into love. Yet there had been enough clues. Why else had she turned to him tonight and asked him to make love to her? Such aggressiveness was completely out of character for her. Had Charlie’s outburst been only an excuse for her to take what she wanted? Even tonight, when she had come so close to the answer, she had lied to herself.

It was no wonder she had tried to convince herself
that her feelings weren’t deeply involved. Heaven only knew there was no future in a relationship with Jason. He wanted two things, to have her sexually and to possess her voice for his music.

No, that wasn’t true. He
liked
her.

But there were no guarantees liking would turn into love, and she would be a fool to expose herself to the lacerations of unrequited love when she was already an emotional basket case. She would be much smarter to extricate herself from any further involvement with Jason.

Go for the brass ring, Charlie had said.

But if she dared to reach too high, she might fall off the carousel entirely.

She crossed to the window and sighed wearily as she leaned her warm forehead on the cool glass pane. Her instincts had always been to be open and optimistic, to give on the chance that she might receive, but the pain and waiting had gone on too long. She didn’t know if she could lower her defenses and risk any more hurt. Sweet heaven, she just didn’t know what was best any longer.

“Hi, Charlie.” Jason walked into the cottage the next afternoon without knocking, as he usually did these days, his gaze immediately going to the platform where Daisy sat posing in the big throne chair. He nodded politely. “Daisy.”

She felt the color rush to her cheeks and her hand clutched her shawl closer. This was the man who had made wild love to her and now he was behaving as if they had merely exchanged handshakes. Well, what had she expected? It had been her first experience, and what had happened had undoubtedly meant more to her than to him. “Hello, Jason.”

He looked away from her and moved toward the kitchenette. “Coffee?”

Charlie glanced absently at him. “Not now.”

“I’ll make it anyway and have it ready.” He grinned. “I’m turning into nothing but a kitchen drudge. And doing industrial damage to these hands my piano teacher said would shake the musical world.”

“The world is pretty hard to shake,” Charlie said, his gaze on the canvas. “You’ll get there.” He paused before adding awkwardly, “Sorry I blew up last night.”

“No problem.” Jason plugged in the coffeemaker. “We’re all entitled to an explosion now and then.” He came around the kitchen bar and settled cross-legged in his favorite spot on the floor in front of the platform. “Right, Daisy?”

The explosion of which he was speaking had been purely sensual in nature. She looked straight before her and moistened her lips with her tongue. “I’ve already told Charlie I understood.”

She was acutely conscious of Jason’s intent gaze on her. Her pulse accelerated as she remembered his words from last night about his fantasies as he watched her pose. She had a sudden mental picture of the two of them naked in this massive Spanish chair, Jason’s hands on her breasts, his hips moving …

Her gaze shifted helplessly, irresistibly, to Jason and then she wished she had continued to avoid his eyes. His face was faintly flushed and his expression blatantly sensual as he met her gaze. She knew he was remembering how it felt to be inside her; she knew he understood that she couldn’t bear this urgent tingling between her thighs.

“Move your head a little to the left, Daisy,” Charlie requested.

She jerked her glance from Jason’s face and tilted her head obediently to the left. Dear heaven, she wished Jason would go away. She could feel her breasts swell against her bodice and heat flow through her.

As if in answer to her silent plea, she heard a
rustle of sound as Jason rose to his feet. But instead of leaving, he strolled over to the piano, seated himself, and began to play softly.

The haunting melody silvered through the room, the notes weaving unforgettable patterns of beauty in the air.

Daisy’s hand clutched the shawl tighter around her, her gaze fixed on Jason’s dark head bent over the keyboard. She was jarred from desire to a higher emotional plane that was no less powerful in intensity. Her throat tightened as she felt the tears rise to her eyes. Beautiful. Dear heaven, his music was beautiful.

Even Charlie had been drawn from his absorption. “I like that. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jason’s eyes met Daisy’s across the room. “It’s from a new Broadway musical. There’s no cast album out yet.”

“What’s it called?”

“ ‘Last Love,’ ” Jason said. “The lead soprano sings it.” Jason smiled at Daisy as he continued to play. “I think you’d like the lyrics too.”

She gazed at him helplessly as the music possessed her.

“Pretty,” Charlie muttered, lost again in his painting.

Not pretty. Mesmerizing, heart-stopping, ravishing, Daisy thought.

“Do you like it?” Jason asked her softly.

He knew damn well she loved it. “Yes.” She tried to keep her voice steady.

“Perhaps I could find the sheet music for you.”

She didn’t answer.

“Would you like that?”

“No. I have my hands full doing Fantine.”

“Well, if you change your mind, tell me.” He
turned back to the keyboard. “I’m always willing to oblige.”

As Lucifer was ready to oblige Eve with the apple of knowledge, she thought bitterly.

Jason continued to play softly for the next hour. He didn’t confine himself to “Last Love” but he always came back to it.

Finally, Daisy couldn’t take it any longer. She forced a smile as she jumped up and stepped down from the platform. “Sorry, Charlie, I have to leave early today and get this mop of a mane trimmed.” She turned to Jason. “You needn’t wait. I’ll drive myself.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” Jason didn’t look up from the keyboard as his fingers moved over the keys. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

Daisy gave him a tormented glance before she strode toward the bedroom and closed the door. As she hurriedly changed clothes, “Last Love” drifted to her from the other room.

She exploded as soon as they were out of Charlie’s earshot and were walking toward the car. “That wasn’t fair.”

He opened the passenger door of the car for her. “You didn’t enjoy the entertainment?”

“You—it wasn’t fair, dammit.”

“I know.” His lips tightened. “But you gave me no choice. I could see from the minute I walked into the cottage today that you were pushing me away.”

She waited until he had gotten into the driver’s seat and started the engine before she said, “You’re right. I meant to tell you that I know I made a mistake last night. I was upset and—”

“You want to go back to being buddies,” he finished for her. He shook his head. “No way.”

“It’s best.” She looked straight ahead. “I can’t handle this right now.”

“Then you shouldn’t have started it.”

“I realize it’s principally my fault.” She was trying to speak slowly and reasonably. “But I’ve thought it over and decided we can’t go on with it.”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “I’m not going to argue with you.”

“There’s nothing to argue about. My decision is made.”

“Decisions are made to be changed.” He started the car and edged away from the curb as he said gruffly, “I can’t let you take this away from me, Daisy. Not after I had a taste of what it could be.”

That was an odd way of phrasing it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’ve just declared war.” His lips tightened grimly. “And that I take no prisoners.” He drew a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want it to be this way. I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll forget about Desdemona for a while, but I’ve got to have something. I know damn well I can please you. Come to my hotel room after the play and let me show you.”