CHAPTER TWELVE
She knew it was wrong. She shouldn’t have gone into what clearly had been his dead wife’s room, playing her prized piano and singing her heart out. She certainly shouldn’t have let a four-year-old persuade her. But Madeline was just so excited and she had been curious and it had been a joy to play and sing and just – forget.
She watched as James struggled, and tensed, waiting for the retribution she was likely to receive. He wouldn’t hit her though. Not James. He wasn’t like David. Or any other man she knew, for that matter.
James had the capacity to affect her deeply, that was how different he was. And he was also way out of her league. Way, way out of her league. If what she’d seen of his wife was anything to go by, she was out of Elizabeth’s league as well. There was absolutely no way James would be interested in someone like her. Not compared to what he once had.
Daydreams. Just stick to the daydreams.
“I did warn you,” she said.
His forehead creased in bafflement as he regarded her. “Warn me?”
“That I really wasn’t nanny material. I shouldn’t have gone into that room. I should have known better.” Always better to acknowledge when she’d done something wrong before anyone else did. The tactic always managed to ease anger.
James shook his head. “That’s not what I was going to say… I just wanted to say… thank you.”
Elizabeth stared for a long moment. She hadn’t expected him to say that. Enraged agreement, self-justification, admonishment not to do it again, but certainly not a gratitude. “You want to thank me?”
James ran both hands through his hair, leaving it in that roughed up way she’d come to like him wearing. “I heard you today. In the piano room.”
“The room…it looks special. I shouldn’t have intruded. She must have been quite a woman. Talented.”
James sighed, resting his hands on his hips. She could see his mind working a thousand miles an hour. “Are you hungry? I haven’t had dinner yet. How about we go to the kitchen, grab something to eat, and I’ll tell you about the room.”
Her whole being hesitated – being close to him was a sort of sweet torture, one she seemed to have no will power to deny. The back of her mind warned her to decline, but the active, not-listening-to-reason part let her nod her head.
“Okay.”
The relaxed smile on his face was reward enough. Before she knew it, she was sitting at the kitchen table with no idea how she came to get there. Her head had been clouded with how well his behind filled his jeans. How broad and straight his shoulders were. How good he smelled. Mrs. D’llessio had cleaned up, and the kitchen was silent and empty apart from the two of them.
“Green tea?”
“Huh?” Elizabeth saw James indicate a tray of different sorts of tea bags on the bench. “Oh, yes. Thank you.” She went to stand to help.
“Sit down. I’ll bring it over.”
She sat back down, a little uncomfortable at being waited on. By James. To take her mind off it, she watched James bustle about the kitchen. He moved economically, gracefully, as though each move was carefully thought out before he made it.
He also looked tired. There were shadows beneath his eyes and tension in his shoulders.
He placed the mug on the table, slid it towards her and smiled. She couldn’t look away. She took the handle of the mug, their fingers brushing. She glanced up, finding him gazing at her. Awareness slid through her, highlighting his proximity. She let her eyes roam over his face – as if she could stop herself - studying his straight nose, sharp jaw line and full, masculine lips. A shadow of stubble dusted his cheeks, adding to the ruggedness of his choppy hair and overall disheveled look.
He dug something out of his pocket. “I have a gift.”
A frown pulled her forehead. “I don’t accept gifts.”
“I’ve noticed.” A pause, then, “Call it a safety device, then. For Madeline.”
She had to remind herself that James wasn’t like David Logan. He pushed a sleek iPhone across the table. “Just in case you need to call.”
“It’s too much.” She put her hands beneath the table. An automatic reaction.
“Elizabeth, it’s a spare phone that was sitting in my desk drawer. If you can’t accept it for safety, then think of it as a tool of your new trade. If you’re out with Madeline, I’ll know I have a way to contact you. I don’t think you have one of your own?”
She shook her head. She’d ditched it in a rubbish bin before she’d left because David could trace her with it. She really missed not having a phone, but she’d never had one of the latest phones out on the market before, and this one looked pretty sleek, despite it being a ‘spare phone in his office drawer’.
She tentatively held the phone. She knew she was being stupid. It was just a phone, and she did need one if she was going to take care of Madeline. If she had a child, she’d want to be able to contact the person responsible for her care. Elizabeth could intellectualise her knee-jerk reactions, but she couldn’t seem to stop them from happening in the first place.
“I put some of Hanna’s songs on there for you,” James said.
She glanced up at him in surprise. “You have?”
He shrugged as though it was no big deal, but it was a big deal. To her. “I thought you might like to learn what Hanna liked, from a musician’s point of view.”
“But I’m not a musician,” Elizabeth said.
A small smile curved his lips. The warmth in it was spell-binding. “I’ve heard you sing. And play. You’re a musician.”
‘But I’m not that good…I told you. I haven’t even had any lessons. I know how to play properly.” She didn’t know if she felt uncomfortable or pleased he’d even notice. Then again, he did seem particularly interested in her ability to play.
“It doesn’t matter. The thing I learned from Hanna is that being a musician isn’t about what you’ve learned; it’s about how the music feels. She was classically trained. It took her years to be able to play like she did. She had the time and opportunity. But with you…” His words slowly faded as he became lost in thought.
“With me?”
Moments passed before he whispered, “You make people feel with your music.”
She blinked slowly. Why was he saying this to her? Why would he offer her a statement that was clearly very personal?
She fidgeted with the handle of her mug. “I was just trying to entertain Madeline. That’s all.”
The gaze he lifted to her was so sad, the impact was almost physical. “I have to be honest. That room was off limits.”
Her breath stuck in her lungs. She knew it. “I won’t go in there again…”
He held out a palm in a placating gesture. “Was, being the operative word. Just hearing you today with Madeline made me realise it’s doing nothing, being closed off to the world like that. It was Hanna’s room, but she can’t use it anymore. She never would have wanted it to be like that. She always had people there, she was always in there playing. It was a room of sound, light, people, laughter. You being in there made me remember why we made it in the first place.”
Elizabeth licked dry lips. She didn’t want to dishonour Hanna’s memory. She was James’ wife. Madeline’s mother. And she was… well, she was no one, really. Someone who breezed through the door a few days ago.
“I don’t want to make you change anything. You built it for Hanna. It should stay that way.”
James reached across the table, threading his fingers through hers. She stared at their entwined fingers, her heart beginning to race. A jolt of warmth spread from her hand, up her arm to swirl around her chest. She liked this contact with him, but it scared her. The last thing she needed was to fall for another man. Not now. Not ever again. Her heart was too shattered, she was too broken. She had to protect her heart.
Too late, a voice whispered in the back of her mind, but she grit her teeth and kicked the errant thought into the pit of unwanted emotion she locked away.
“I…I don’t want you to change it for me.”
James squeezed her fingers. “That’s exactly what you’ve done, Elizabeth. You changed it for me.”
She stood up, the chair scraping backwards with a harsh sound across the tiled floor. “I didn’t mean to change anything. I’m sorry.”
James stood, confusion washing his features. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Elizabeth. I’m trying to say you’ve made it better. For Madeline. For me. I should have opened that room a long time ago. I should have let Madeline play that piano. I should have done a lot of things.”
But he hadn’t done anything with it until she came here. What was it about her; about this…this thing…between them.
“Why change now?”
He drew a deep breath, his eyes flashing with shadows. And pain. So much pain, she didn’t think she could stand looking at him.
“You’re good for Madeline.”
She’s good for me, too. And James. James is very good for you, too.
Elizabeth closed her heart against that little voice. The voice was wrong and piping up much too frequently. Besides, it was wrong. She wasn’t even good for herself.
She took a steeling breath, as well as the phone, needing to get away from this room as fast as she could. This conversation. These feelings. James had the knack to bring her to her emotional knees with a simple look and a few words.
“I’m glad. I… I’m really tired. I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks for the phone. I’ll take good care of it.” She opened the kitchen door.
“Elizabeth.”
She closed her eyes as the sound of her name on James’ lips sent a subtle shiver through her. She didn’t turn around; if she did, she didn’t think she’d be able to leave the room. Didn’t want to do anything she’d later regret. It was just too tempting. He was just too tempting.
“Yes?”
“Thank you. I appreciate what you’re doing.”
She had to draw the line in the sand. This – whatever this was turning out to be – was going to end. She had to remind him of that.
“Only until the landslide clears though. Then I have to go. That was our agreement.”
James nodded, his gaze never leaving her face. “Until the landslide is cleared.”
She nodded slowly, ignoring the hurt and pain in his eyes before she slipped through the door and bolted to the safety of her room. She closed the door behind her and flopped down onto the bed, panting as though she’d run a marathon.
The thing was, she could stay here. She really could. She could cave in to her innermost feelings, live here and look after a beautiful child she was fast falling in love with. A man she desired, if she was totally honest with herself. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. A dream. Everything she’d ever wanted.
But she was no good for either James or Madeline. They didn’t know who she really was, what she was really capable of. They didn’t deserve any of that.
She’d have to stay strong, protect her heart as best she could. When the roads were opened again, she’d make herself leave.
Even if it felt as though she was ripping her heart out.