He took her hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart, which thumped a steady, comforting rhythm under her palm.
‘I do think I became lost in my playing...’
‘You play like an angel whose heart has been broken and is about to fall. I don’t cry, but I wanted to weep at the sound of your music.’
She’d had confidence once, but had begun to feel it was misplaced—slowly chipped away because of her desire to be better, to be perfect, till she’d stopped thinking she could play at all. Once, she’d thought she could achieve anything. When had she begun to believe she was a fraud?
‘He was your partner. He should have loved you rather than tried to diminish you. People can be envious of success. He wanted to take yours as his own.’
She looked up at Stefano, so adamant for her when he barely knew her. ‘He’s acting first violin now in my place.’
‘Because of your injury?’
She nodded, the burn of tears stinging her eyes. She wiped them away. Stefano took her hand, began massaging deep into her palm, working his way up her arm. The pleasure of that touch, his care, rippled through her.
‘That, and because there were rumours that I’d been saying things about other members of the orchestra...about the conductor. I denied it, but I’m the newest member. The youngest. I didn’t tell anyone I was hurting because it almost felt...shameful, how my body had let me down. I hid it from them, thinking I could sort it out myself. It made everyone suspicious about what else I might have hidden. I’m the link between the orchestra and the conductor. I can’t do that job if people don’t trust me.’
‘People are jealous of your talents. That’s all.’
‘I was told to take some time to think about my future. To try and fix myself. And I don’t think they meant physically.’
‘There is nothing to fix,cara. You’re perfect as you are.’
Stefano’s touch gentled, became more a stroking, and she moaned. His eyes darkened and the intensity of that gaze was too much. It was as if he saw her in ways that no one else did.
‘You are a beautiful, passionate woman and you should not allowanyoneto try and convince you of otherwise. Your orchestra...? They don’t deserve your brilliance.’
The words caught in her chest like a hand grabbing at her heart and twisting. She’d spent her life in a world of competition. A world of music and beauty, sure, but you had to be strong. You didn’t always get praise. Most of the time you received criticism. Some of it constructive, a lot of it quite cruel.
Stefano’s accolades meant more that he could ever know, and yet she was repaying him by not being honest. The sting of bile rose in her throat. What would he think of her if she were?
‘Thank you. But—’
‘Accept the praise. You shouldn’t qualify it. Don’t pay attention to people who try to reduce you to their own mediocrity.’
He picked up her hand and brought her fingertips to his mouth. Kissed them. The heat of his breath, warm against her flesh. She didn’t say anything, just lay there, relishing the attention like a cat being stroked. Her eyes drifted shut as she absorbed the pleasure of it all.
‘Okay...’
It was all she could say. His gentle ministrations, his defence of her, had stolen her words and left her only with complicated feelings swirling inside. Soft, warm feelings that she craved to give in to but wouldn’t voice.
‘I cannot believe that after last night in my bed we’re even speaking of another man.’ His voice had taken on a deeper tone. Rougher.
She opened her eyes then and he was staring at her, focussed and intent. ‘You think you’re that good?’ she teased.
Stefano raised an eyebrow. The corners of his lips twitched in a smile that wouldn’t break free. Yes, hewasthat good—and he knew it. Her body had given her away. Last night had been a revelation of pleasure.
But she didn’t want to stroke his ego too much, since he was sitting there looking so assured of his own abilities. Another tease slipped out. ‘Or are you jealous?’
‘I’m protective of what’s mine.’
The force of those words tore through her.Mine.She should be outraged that he was so...possessive.
‘Oh, I’m yours, am I?’
She’d never truly felt like anyone’s before. This sensation—it was fresh. Sharp and bright like the cold fall of snow. And she loved it. A lot too much.
Stefano truly smiled then, and in his smile was something sultry and wicked that told her she would pay, and that he’d enjoy meting out the erotic punishment.