Unfaithful (7 page)

Then the music softened into a slower theme brimming with sadness and nostalgia. Evan knit his brow, lost in the shadows of his past and, slowly, the melody gave way to silence. He opened his eyes, his gaze lost, and I smiled at him because I’d understood the meaning behind his gesture: he’d wanted to give me a part of himself.

“I hadn’t played that for centuries,” he whispered, the same sadness in his eyes I’d seen when he’d lost himself in the memory of his mother. The sadness of nostalgia, the regret of knowing you’d lost someone forever. “It was my mother’s song.”

“Danielle.” I said her name in a whisper. “It’s lovely. Did she compose it?” I asked hesitantly.

Evan nodded, struggling to re-emerge from the devastating memory. “She always used to play it when I was a boy sitting beside her at the piano. When I was too anxious to fall asleep, I would often doze off to the sound of her voice humming that melody.”

The melancholy notes mirrored the sadness Evan’s mother must have felt night after night as she waited for her husband to come home, playing her song time and time again, pouring her pain into the ivory keys and forcing herself to hide her feelings from her son.

When Evan turned to look at me, a hint of a smile appeared on his lips and I was ashamed of the fleeting emotion I’d just felt. My face had betrayed me, only for a moment, but long enough for him to detect my mild disappointment. It wasn’t like me to be so self-centered but I hadn’t been able to keep a thought from forcing its way into my head. Evan had glimpsed a glimmer of hope fading inside me—the hope that he’d improvised those notes right then and there for me. I forced a smile, embarrassed by how easily he’d managed to probe my feelings. He rested the violin on his shoulder again, his gaze locked onto mine.

Seconds later, notes returned to fill the silence as his fingers moved quickly on the ebony fingerboard and the bow being drawn over the strings conveyed the intensity of a different emotion: frustration. Almost as if the notes could talk, nostalgia had been replaced by dismay.

I recognized the piece instantly. I’d heard it only once before but my brain had jealously guarded the memory, bringing it to the forefront of my mind a thousand times, conjuring the magic of our first dance together when Evan had confessed his feelings and our bodies had touched for the first time.

I looked at him, surprised, but Evan smiled at me calmly. “Remind you of anything?” he whispered, a sly look on his face.

“You said it was our song,” I murmured, blinking. “You mean you composed it yourself?” I stared at him, amazed by the revelation.

“Just for you,” he whispered, his eyes focused on me. The melody rose into the air, intense and full of harmonic nuances. A motif that I now knew was all mine—all ours.

“I often played this back when I thought I had no choice,” he explained as a light tingle swept over my body. “I felt oppressed, but I still hadn’t figured out why. I couldn’t understand why it hurt so much to think about you,” he went on as the intense, heart-rending music yielded to a sweeter, calmer melody, releasing a river of emotions inside me, hot and cold at the same time. I could never forget how that night had changed my life—the night that should have been my last. “I added this part only after I’d saved you. It sprang from my fingers without my realizing it, like it had always belonged here. It showed me that my decision was the only one I could possibly have made.” His hands came to rest, finishing the song.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you could play so well?” I asked after a few seconds.

“Bragging isn’t one of my virtues. But that night at the dance I dedicated it to you, remember?”

“Yes, but I could never have imagined you’d written it for me.”

“It all seemed so complicated back then,” he murmured, stifling a bitter laugh. “When actually”—he brushed a lock of hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear—“it’s so easy to love you, Gemma. It’s like breathing, something so automatic, so natural, that you can’t survive without it unless you’re searching for death.”

I half closed my eyes at the warmth of his lips on mine. He barely touched them, withdrew slightly, then kissed me again in a sensual game that threatened to drive me crazy. His dark eyes probed mine, hiding another, deeper desire. Physical contact with Evan had always triggered strong emotions in me, but over the last few weeks the invisible cord that connected me to him had caught fire and I was in danger of losing my way. My longing for him was becoming harder and harder to contain, especially when his gaze met mine and I could see his desire for me in his eyes. I felt a primitive yearning whenever he touched me, whenever he kissed me. I longed to feel his hands on me, his body against mine. I was afraid I’d catch fire every time his kisses intensified, expressing what we weren’t able to reveal aloud.

Evan leaned his head over my shoulder and caressed it with his nose, barely touching my skin, then kissed it tenderly as I melted in his warmth.

“Y-you should teach me sometime,” I stammered, desperately trying to control myself.

“To do what?” he whispered as his lips continued their slow exploration of my neck.

“To play. I’d like to learn how to play.”

My eyelashes trembled as his mouth slowly curved into a smile. He slid behind me and, still holding the violin firmly, raised my arms. “Why not right now?”

His voice caressed my ear, making me quiver. “Not a bad idea,” I replied, dizzy.

“Hold it like this.” He gave me the violin and positioned it on my shoulder. As I leaned toward the instrument the back of my head brushed against his chest, making my heart flutter. I closed my eyes and Evan swallowed, standing behind me in silence for a moment. “You need to rest your chin here. It’ll feel awkward at first, but later on you won’t even think about it.” He clasped my right hand in his, holding the bow, and drew it across the strings. “Now close your eyes and let the music guide you.”

I did as he said and another slow melody filled the silence. Evan’s hand guided mine, moving it slowly as his hot breath tickled my ear. I couldn’t think of anything but his body behind mine. I could feel his every breath, every muscle, every movement.

“You’re pretty good,” he whispered, a sly smile painted on his face.

“I am—unless we consider that you’re the one who’s playing; you’re only using me. Your hands are moving the strings,” I said sardonically. As usual, he was teasing me.

“Then maybe I should move them somewhere else . . . Onto you, for example,” he said provocatively, tracing a line across my neck with his nose.

My eyelids fluttered as his meaning sank in. Evan laughed out loud and moved away from me. Without him to lean on, I felt dizzy for a second. Or maybe it was my untamable longing for him. “I’d better sit down,” I said as I lowered myself, straddling the piano bench.

Evan laughed again, no doubt aware of how he was making me feel. He sat down on the bench facing me, one leg on each side. “All this music must be having a strange effect on you,” he said, his smile turning into a grin. Before I could breathe he grabbed my rear with both hands and pulled me toward him. “Or maybe it’s me,” he whispered against my lips, his wild gaze locked onto mine as I melted, burning with desire. Resting his forehead against mine, he attempted to control himself, but his unsteady breathing betrayed him, faithful testimony of his emotions.

I was dazed, trapped in a dreamlike state. His lips were so close, his body so hot. The heat between us had grown so intense it left me feverish. I stared at his mouth and he at mine as our tormented breaths merged. His lips brushed a corner of mine, and again, igniting my longing for him as our tongues touched ever so slightly. The touch of him on my lips was paradise.

“I could faint from pleasure at the touch of your mouth,” I whispered, utterly under his spell.

Evan’s hands clasped my waist and his thumb slowly slid beneath my top. My skin burned beneath his fingers. Our mouths wavered a millimeter from each other, exploring a new desire, almost as if they’d never touched before. We stared at each other’s lips, intoxicated by the same thought. “Maybe we need some fresh air,” I suggested, trying to calm my heartbeat. The electrical connection stretching from him to me threatened to electrocute us with each breath.

Evan smiled, leaning back slightly. Although he never pressured me in these situations, he always made me be the one to stop us. “As you wish,” he replied, sounding resigned, his gaze on mine. He took my hand, led me to the door, and paused on the threshold. “And so he took her hand and clasped it in his own because she knew he would never leave her,” he said, his breath uneven,  running his thumb over my lip. Sometimes we had fun speaking in the third person like we were characters in a book.

“And she felt as though her heart would burst,” I said, my head spinning.

Evan sought my mouth again, unable to subdue his desire. “We risk setting the house on fire,” he whispered with a smile.

“That would be a shame.” I shook my head, trying to recover from the surge of emotion he’d triggered in me.

Evan noticed and smiled again, seeming proud of the effect he’d had on me. “Ginevra would never forgive us,” he exclaimed, amused. “She worked so hard to make everything perfect.”

“Well, I know how we can avoid it.”

“Interesting,” he said with a sly smile. “What do you suggest?”

I bit my lip, shot him a look that dared him to follow and pulled him through the trees toward the lake.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked, curious.

“I want to show you something,” I said, intentionally vague. It was my turn to surprise him. Something had crossed my mind: a place Peter and I used to go to a lot when we were children breaking the rules. It wasn’t far from the old lake house. Evan followed me without protesting until the calm waters of Lake Placid were spread out before us. I stopped, satisfied.

“Are we there?” he asked, letting slip a hint of impatience. Unsure of my intentions, he looked at his car, parked nearby.

“Not yet,” I said, keeping him in suspense to get back at him. With a smile, I jerked my chin over our heads at the cable that stretched across the mirror of water.

“You can’t mean—” Evan shot me a glance and I confirmed his suspicion with a nod, looking him in the eye. He laughed, understanding the crazy idea I had in mind. To reach the uppermost point of the cable, we had to climb to the top of a rugged slope where it was tied to a big tree. Although I hadn’t been there for years the old wooden steps were just like I remembered them. Hanging from the zip line were thick handles that would slide down the cable all the way to the small clearing on the opposite shore. It was an experience I’d always found electrifying.

I grabbed one of the two handles and turned to face Evan.

“Looks like fun!” he exclaimed without a trace of hesitation.

“Follow me,” I dared him, my gaze sensual, and leapt into the void.

I plunged downward. When I was close enough to the water, I stretched out my legs so my feet grazed its surface. Evan leapt after me, catching up in no time. We twirled through the air, one beside the other, as Evan pulled my cord closer to him, hanging on with only one hand.

Moments later we’d reached the opposite shore. I barely felt my feet touch the ground. Evan was holding me gently in his arms, almost like we were levitating. He relaxed his grip and for a moment I lost my balance.

“Well?” I asked him, studying his expression. “Fun?”

Evan shot me a strange look and grabbed my hand. “I know a way that’s even more fun.” He reached over his head, grabbed his red T-shirt, and pulled it off. His dog tag jingled against his white undershirt that was so tight every muscle showed. He smiled at me, his eyes locked onto mine for a moment with that penetrating look that made my head spin. My heart skipped a beat as I thought of us back on the piano bench just minutes ago, but before I could ask him for an explanation he grabbed me, cradled me in his arms, and carried me up to the top.

I was about to take hold of one of the handles but Evan stopped me. “Wait.” He moved closer. “I want to try something first.” He grabbed both handles in one hand and opened his other arm to guide me over. “After you,” he whispered, holding my gaze.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked warily, casting a sidelong glance at his teasing smile. I grabbed the first handle and after a moment felt Evan’s body against mine.

“Ready?” Evan whispered, his lips behind my ear.

I tilted my head and my cheek brushed his, right behind me. The light contact between us rendering words impossible, I half closed my eyes as his breath on my neck made my heart tremble. He took firm hold of the handles supporting us both and leapt into the void.

Considering the combined weight of our bodies, I prepared to hold my breath, certain that the wind would make the crossing more difficult and we would end up in the lake. I expected the descent to happen quickly like last time, but instead we seemed to be moving slower. I heard Evan’s low laugh vibrate through our bodies and guessed why, basking in the pleasant sensation the thought triggered in me: Evan was controlling the air to make us move slower, to prolong the interval when our bodies were pressed together. Almost in slow motion, the surface of the water came nearer until our feet were inches above it. Evan’s warm voice caressed my neck. “Now let go.”

“W-What?!” I exclaimed, shocked. What was he thinking?

“I’ll hold you.” Evan let go with one hand, encircling my body from behind with his arm as he held on tighter with the other to support us both. “Trust me, Jamie,” he insisted in a tender voice.

An uncontrollable impulse made me obey him. I cautiously relaxed my grip and let go. Evan held me up with one arm without any apparent difficulty. I squeezed his hand as the surface of the water slowly ran beneath our feet. He let go of the handle with his other hand and I froze in panic, my breath caught in my throat, but his arms held me tenderly. The breeze softened as we gradually slowed down in a way that defied the laws of physics and then stopped halfway across. My foot was touching the liquid surface but I wasn’t sinking.