“I didn’t mind,” I say, repeating the new ending at a higher octave.
A bow doesn’t detract from his open expression. “I’ll see you at the theater?”
“For sure.”
He pauses. “If you never played the violin again, I would say that we would definitely suffer a loss. From a professional standpoint I have to ask you to continue. As someone who admires you, I want you to do whatever you need.”
In the silence after he goes, I look over at the violin.
I could play it now, before anyone else is here to listen. The ghostly imprint of bow and strings touches my fingertips. Silent strains sail through the air. A shiver runs down my spine. It’s not that I’m apathetic. That would be easier to bear. My skill would at least carry me through a concert or two. It’s more that I have a bone-deep repulsion. It’s like asking me to step into boiling lava. My body shies away before my mind can even negotiate.
A coward. That’s who stands up from the piano and leaves the room. Not strong enough to kiss a man who might actually build a relationship with me—one without guilt or sacrifice. Not strong enough to play the violin, the instrument my hands were born to know.
The hallway is as dark as I found it. As empty.
Except that the door to the balcony is open now. Was it closed before? I think so. A chill drifts down the darkened corridor. I take a step toward the end. There, to the side. A silhouette. I recognize him from behind. I could recognize him anywhere. He faces the grounds, his hands resting on the balcony, his shoulders broad, his hips lean. The tuxedo contours to his power, revealing its form.
Without really thinking it through I walk toward him. Then I set my hands on the cool stone beside his. “You could hear the piano inside.”
And he would have had to pass us to get here. Which means he saw Alexander in there with me. Sitting beside me on the bench. Maybe even kissing me. And he didn’t interrupt us?
“It sounded like you made a friend.”
A friend. “I’m surprised you didn’t come in.”
“The way I did during the dance? It isn’t right for me to stop you. If you want a man like him…” He looks away. “He’s the kind of man you’re going to end up with.”
My eyes narrow. He no longer bothers saying that I should end up with a man like Alexander. Instead he thinks I will. Like it’s inevitable. Like I have no choice in the matter. Even if I married him, even if I had three children, he would always assume I’d leave—the way his mother did.
There’s no convincing him, I realize with a sinking feeling in my stomach.
The past has written too deeply into his skin. It made him bleed and left the scars in the shape of the words, proving he’ll always be abandoned by those he loves.
“You let him kiss me?”
Liam flinches. He could not know what happened for sure, but he meant to let me. “It’s your choice.”
“You would have let him make love to me on that piano bench, is that right?”
A low growl escapes him. “Yes.”
“If he had flipped up my skirt and touched me the way you touch me. If he made me come so hard that I called out his name.” I make my voice breathless and high. “Alexander. Yes.”
Liam backs me against the tall stone railing. “Don’t push me.”
“If you didn’t want to hear it, why wait here? Why torture yourself?”
A pleading look in his green eyes. “That’s all I know how to do.”
“I’m tired of being your punishment, Liam North. Make me something else. Show me what it would be like if you took what you wanted, no guilt, no regrets. If you did anything to me. No restraint.”
His expression turns hard. “You don’t—”
I slap him. I don’t know why I do. I’m not really angry at him; it’s more that I’m desperate. Being soft hasn’t done enough. This is a man who works out on a daily basis in ways that would break most men. He doesn’t even feel the softness.
I want a reaction from him—and he gives me one.
His fist captures me wrist. Then my hand’s behind my back. Both of my arms are pinned behind me. The lace overlay with its black dots flutters in the breeze—my wings. He uses them to tie a knot. Netting traps my wrists behind me and pushes my breasts forward.