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The thought shifted through her, causing, briefly, a frown to mar her face, because it was totally incongruous and untrue. She loved sleeping with him, and the fun of conducting a secret affair, but she didn’t love anything about Alessio besides his beautiful and very skilful body. Love was something that came on slowly, that was built over months and years, that came from friendship and trust, from a place of liking first. Love was, in fact, most likely an illusion. If she hadn’t seen Michael and Maggie and how happy they were, she’d have thought it all a big lie. In some rare instances, it was everything the fairytales told you, but not in the real world, not for most people.
They lay on the bed, breath hot and rushed, his body heavy on hers, a delightful weight, and she felt everything on an elemental level—the fibres of the duvet, the roughness of the hairs on his chest, the softness of his skin, the smell of his aftershave, the in and out of his breathing, the flex of his toes as he moved his leg a little, the removal of him from her sex, leaving her, momentarily, bereft.
“Was that the favour?” He asked with a slow-spreading grin, pushing up onto his elbows to look into her eyes.
“Not exactly,” she said with a rueful expression. “But I appreciate it nonetheless.”
“That’s mutual.” He ran his hand over her hair then kissed her bare forehead, making her breath hitch in her throat for a completely different reason now. His tenderness reminded her of the strange, discordant thought she’d experienced a moment earlier. It whispered promises and spoke of affection and love and desires for more than the hot and heavy sex stuff.
Her skin flushed and she looked away.
“Okay, I get the feeling this is something big. What is it? Do you need a kidney? A lung? A new job in the world’s best chocolate factory?”
She laughed but her eyes widened as she heard the last question and a sharp pang of regret hit her right in the solar plexus. There would have been a time when that was her absolute dream and fantasy, a time when she would have wanted, more than anything, to live abroad and work in a massive, international role like that. But losing her brother and Maggie had changed everything. Dash was her compass now. Her life was with him, her ambitions curtailed completely.
“Actually, I need you.”
He lifted his brows.
“Or rather, your hands.”
His eyes narrowed and she heard the statement, and how he might interpret it. Heat flushed her cheeks.
“To play piano,” she clarified quickly.
“Far less fun than what I was imagining,” he said with a tsking noise.
“Well, I’m not ruling that out either,” she responded huskily, offering a casual wink to encourage the direction of his thoughts. After all, his hands were very, very talented.
“I don’t have a piano here,” he pointed out the obvious, looking around the neat but small room.
“It’s for a school concert,” she clarified. “The teacher who is supposed to accompany the kids has broken her arm, and the back-up is already on leave, visiting his family. The kids have been working so hard on their songs, practicing all term, and the concert is a really big deal. The whole town usually goes to watch, and it means a lot—to the kids, and the adults. But without a pianist, they’re going to cancel. So, I just thought…”
“You just thought I could step in and save the day?” He asked with a look of exaggerated grimace.
“Yep. The thing is, I’ve heard you play, so you can’t even lie to get out of it.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” he responded, kissing her forehead again.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” she murmured. “If there was anyone else,anyone,who had the slightest musical ability—at least, enough ability to play their way through ten songs in a row, we’d ask them. I guess, worst case scenario, they could try to buy the music online,” she said, thinking fast. “Only the tradition is for the church organ to be played and it just won’t sound the same. I’m sorry to ask.”
“Why? You seem to think this will be like walking over the fires of hell for me?”
“Well, you’re on holiday, for one thing, and for another, you don’t really strike me as the Christmas concert kind of guy. You probably have a million more important things to do. You’re busy and…”
“And you need a favour,” he said with a lift of his shoulders. “Of course, I’ll help.”
Her heart soared and her breath broke from her body, her lungs incapable of re-inflating for a moment.
“You will?” Her voice sounded squeaky to her own ears.
“You sound so surprised,” he laughed, a short, sharp sound. “Did you have me pegged as some kind of scrooge?”
“I—no, it’s not that, I just didn’t—I hoped,” she murmured. “But at the same time, I didn’t expect…”
“It’s no big deal. Ten songs? No problem.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said on a rushed exhalation. “You are a lifesaver.”
