They owned the dance floor for much of the night, just as they had at Hamish’s London dinner.But now a hush began falling around them as the guests, sufficiently fed and liquored, splintered off into small groups to chat the night away.
"How are your feet?"Jay asked.
Claire groaned."Ready for a pair of comfy bunny slippers."
"What do you say we slip away for a while?I know a great little piano bar.”
They weaved through the mingling masses, their fingers intertwined.She caught sight of Molly, cigar in hand, holding court with a bevy of gentlemen.They encircled her, hanging on every word then laughing uncontrollably as she no doubt walked a very thin line between tasteful ladylike repartee and full-blown obscenity.That's my girl, Claire thought.
She continued to scan, hoping to lock eyes with her father or Hamish.She eventually found both men, enjoying snifters of brandy and swapping stories.Claire's heart tightened.God, I wish I had my camera right now.She settled for a mental snapshot of the two men who'd loved her best in life.
The din of the band and the chatter of the guests softened with each step away from the party.Inside the main house, they moved along a dark corridor on the east side of the manor.Jay guided her along the passageway until they turned a corner, revealing a dead end.There were no windows or doors to speak of.Just a collection of elaborate frames dotting the paneled walls, showcasing oil paintings.
"I think we made a wrong turn," Claire said.
"Things are not always what they seem."
Jay smiled and stepped behind a floor-to-ceiling tapestry, his outstretched hand beckoning her to follow.Claire pulled the tapestry back and slipped through a hidden portal.
"But how did you…” She began, marveling at the sudden appearance of an intimate yet elaborate conservatory.
An arched recess held a small stage at the opposite end.A sleek Baby Grand sat proudly on display.Passing several rows of theater-style seats, Claire couldn't help but laugh."It's absolutely fantastic.How did you know this was here?"
"Hamish showed it to me earlier this evening,” Jay said.“He asked if I needed anything, and I told him I needed a piano."
“I don’t get it,” Claire’s head cocked to one side.“You said you don’t play.”
The words barely left her mouth when several gentlemen entered.Two carried large candelabras, which they lit and placed on either side of the small stage.A third gentleman settled himself on the bench in front of the instrument and played an elaborate introduction.
“I don’t play…” Jay motioned.“buthedoes.”
The musician’s initial upbeat notes were replaced with something softer and more sensual—a tune Claire recognized immediately.He motioned to her feet with a knowing look.Laughing, she didn’t argue as she slipped off her strappy heels.Together, they moved to the music filling the air around them.
“A littleSwing Time, Mr.Astaire?”she said.
He gave her a squeeze.“Nothing but the best for my lady.”
“Are you trying to impress me?”
"We'll need to get rid of the piano for that," he said.
Being back in his arms felt like an answered prayer.Claire understood their collective need to proceed with caution, but longed to move forward—especially after their rain-soaked afternoon.As the final notes of the song faded away, Jay kissed her.This kiss differed from the soft, gentle one they had shared at her secret hideaway.This kiss promised more and demanded more.The kind to hold them until they could disappear into the dark of the night.
She pulled away and smiled.Is he reading my mind,she wondered, still breathless.Her lipstick stained the corners of his mouth, and she reached up to wipe the traces away.
“Jay Avery, you swore this new line was completely smudge-proof,” she said.
"Looks like we’re gonna need a lot more R and D.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed each fingertip.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
JAY
"You’re not up yet?I thought for sure you'd be on your second cup of coffee by now."
"Who is this?"Jay asked, sleepy and confused as he held the phone to his ear.
