Be patient with him. Someday you’ll earn his trust and he’ll let you see him.
“Thank you.” I patted the bench beside me. “Join me?”
He hesitated, still keeping his head turned away. “Uh, you sure?”
“Positive. Sit with me. I’ll teach you a song.”
He muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t decipher, then, louder, “My clumsy fingers would only butcher your song.”
“Nonsense.” I patted the bench again. “My grandfather learned how to play the piano with his arthritic fingers when he was sixty-five. I taught him. If he can do it, so can you.”
Adrik took a step back. “Not sure if I’m allowed to mingle with you. How about if I just listen to you play from over there?” He pointed at the brown leather couch across the room.
Was he truly worried about getting in trouble with my family? Or did he fear my reaction if I saw his face? Or was it something else? Was he uncomfortable with my disability?
“Don’t worry about my family. I’ll never tell. Or is it my condition that bothers you?”
He flinched. “No. Never. It’s just…” He blew out a breath. “I’m supposed to be protecting you, not playing around. I don’t want to get fired.”
I huffed, waving his concerns away. “My family isn’t here. No one’s firing you. Your job might be to protect me, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun while doing so. Please.” I patted the bench for the third time. “Join me. I promise I don’t bite.”
After another moment’s hesitation, he cautiously stepped forward and settled onto the bench next to me.
His scent reached my nostrils. Strong and masculine and sexy.
God, he smells good.
The heat of his large body flowed into mine, sending awareness spiking through me.
My body reacted to his closeness like a spark igniting a fuse, my pulse thrumming and my skin prickling.
Somehow, he seemed so much bigger sitting right beside me like this.
Why did I feel so dainty and feminine and hot all over whenever he was near?
Concentrate, Annika.
“Okay.” I turned, smiling up at him. “You want to learn how to play?”
A moment of silence. “Yeah. I’ll give it a try.”
Surprise jolted through me. I’d been so certain he would refuse.
“Perfect. Give me your hands.”
He went completely still. Then, slowly, he lifted his hands toward me. I guided them to the keyboard, placing them in the proper position. I swear his breath hitched when I touched him, but it could have been my imagination, because my own breath snagged in my throat and my pulse raced at the feel of his large, warm, and very capable hands underneath mine.
Get a grip, Annika!
“This is the middle C,” I instructed him, trying to sound normal though I felt anything but as I gently tapped the key. “It marks the center of the keyboard.”
Did my words sound as breathless as I felt? I swear, he was casting some kind of spell over me, overwhelming my mind and senses with his supreme sexiness until it was all I could think about.
He nodded, staring down at the keys.
Forcing myself to concentrate on the piano lesson and not his powerful effect on me, I went on explaining the layout of the keyboard, tapping each of the piano keys, A through G, and showing the major and minor chords. He listened, his attention focused on the keyboard. I showed him how to curl his fingers and relax his hands. I played a few notes and had him copy me. He did. Clumsily at first. He yanked up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, revealing strong, tanned forearms, and tried again. My gaze latched onto his muscular arms, his large hands, his long fingers. Unexpectedly erotic thoughts flooded my mind of those large hands touching me, stroking me…
Annika! What is wrong with you?