Page 40 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8
‘Positive,’ she snapped.
She shouldn’t...couldn’tcare about the shadows lurking in his eyes. The fissures of pain, bitterness and torment fighting for supremacy that made her heart lurch, made her want to reach out, soothe him until they dissipated.
Sheshouldn’twant to pour herself into the cracks of his pain, hold him together if even for a short time.
Make him hurt...less.
She had her own emotional baggage to be dealing with.
She was thankful for the strength in her legs as she hurried away, for the willpower to keep walking away as she wandered through the semi-dark stateroom. Her destination wasn’t exactly clear but, in this moment, anything was better than remaining in Jario’s unnerving presence.
Really? Anything?
The softly voiced challenge drew a shiver, a tiny self-preserving voice demanding to know why she wasn’t retreating to the safety of the bedroom he’d visibly restrained himself from entering.
Was it because there was something decadent and deliciously illicit about their small-hours meetings? Something she would miss when she left?
She lost half a breath when a hollow opened up inside her at the thought. Yet another thing she pushed away.
On bare feet, she headed for the large salon she’d seen but not yet visited.
As with most areas on the yacht, automatic lights came on when she entered, but special spotlights were trained on the Wilh. Steinberg concert grand piano with gold-plated casters, hinges and feet, set on its own platform at the far right corner of the room. It was stunning and imposing enough to forget her roiling emotions for a moment.
Approaching, she perched on the dark purple velvet-covered bench, stingingly aware of the soft material brushing her bare thighs. Despite the mildly intimidating awareness that the superior piano she was about to play cost more than she’d earn in three years, the ivory and ebony keys gleaming invitingly settled her nerves. She’d been playing the same set of keys since she was seven years old.
And right now, she yearned for the soul soothing that music always provided.
Without conscious thought, she struck the first key, then smiled.
Chopin’s Nocturnes was a little predictable perhaps, but she’d played it enough times that it came to her fingers easily enough. She fell into the soft notes with shuddering, almost tear-jerking relief, then transitioned into Giazotto’s ‘Adagio in G Minor,’ followed by a few more of her favourites.
It was as she was ending Peter J. Malmsjö’s ‘Soft Caress’ that she realised Jario was leaning in the doorway.
‘You’re very talented,’ he observed softly.
She shrugged, furiously fighting against warmth pushing at her emotional firewalls.
‘May I come in?’
‘It’s your yacht. Stay. Go. Wouldn’t want you to do anything against your better judgement.’ She grimaced at the bitterness she couldn’t quite hide.
‘Ave Maria.’ That always lifted her spirits.
She launched into it as he made his decision, crossing the room to the liquor cabinet. His favourite cognac in hand, he reclined on the sofa, his stare even more brooding.
When the last haunting strains echoed, he rose again. She didn’t see what he’d done until he walked over and held out the spritzer. ‘Nightcap?’
She took shallow, careful breaths so she wouldn’t greedily inhale his intoxicating scent. ‘Peace offering or trying to get me drunk?’
A glint lit his eyes. ‘I struck a nerve before.’
Her heart lurched. ‘You think?’ she replied, playing for time, searching his gaze to see if he knew the true depths of her unsettled emotions.
He raised the glass higher. She took it, her belly flip-flopping when his warm fingers brushed hers.
‘Tell me.’ His voice rumbled over her, and maybe it was because the music had done its job? She sipped her drink, set it down.
Returning her gaze to the piano, she found herself speaking.