Chapter 9
Helena
Music pours out of my fingers like a bleeding wound.
I don’t hide my emotions from my face. I let my body move into my instrument and take comfort in the sturdiness that it provides to me. Tension builds and falls in my chest as I lose myself. For just the span of this piece, I let everything go. I’m so lost in the moment that I created for myself that I don’t hear the auditorium door open.
I don’t notice that I’m no longer alone until the footsteps of the person who has joined me are near enough for me to hear—until they’re near enough for me to feel their eyes on me.
My bow skids to an abrupt halt and a sharp note whistles through the air suddenly.
My heart is pounding like a rabbit found in a snare. My pupils are blown wide as I jerk my head up to see the face of my intruder. I expect a student but come to find myself eye to eye with the same man that I spent all morning fantasizing about.
Daniel.
My chest heaves as I fight with my own body to regulate my breathing. I don’t know exactly what I’m waiting for, and he says nothing at all.
Am I really so pathetically lost in my fantasies that I’m actually imagining him standing in front of me right now?
No, he’s really here. Watching me.
Somewhere in my mind, it registers that he’s not supposed to be here. A parent wandering the halls of a middle school is generally frowned upon. If anything were wrong with Henry, he wouldn’t be here.
It would be right for me to ask him to leave. I could have him escorted out. Yet I don’t.
I want him here.
I track his movements with my eyes as he moves to sit in the closest auditorium chair. The metal hinges of the chair creak with age as he lowers himself to sit. One arm hangs over the armrest as he curls his fingers around the lower half of his face. His eyes seem to darken as if he can feel my morning session echoing vibrantly across my mind. He crosses one leg over the other and blinks slowly at me.
As if he’s giving me permission to continue.
I shouldn’t care. I don’t need his permission to do anything. I should throw him out of this room or at the very least report him to Principal Martinez.
Yet, my hands start to move.
I can’t deny that having his eyes on me feels good. It’s not just the approval that I enjoy or knowing that he liked watching me play the other day. I haven’t felt the attention of a man like him in quite some time, and it feels almost as if I’m playing with fire. The heat that crackles and sparks from my overwhelming attraction to him builds and spurs my fingers to move faster.
The tune I choose is slightly more jovial, but I have always preferred haunting melodies. The music of Saint-Sa?ns” Cello Concerto No. 2, Op. 119 reflects the chase that I feel between us. My fingers burn in the best possible ways. Still raw and angry from the lack of playing over the last few years, I cannot wait for callouses to finish forming. The pain reminds me of when I was first learning to play.
Yet, for the first time, I play for someone other than myself or my mother.
Hundreds of people have seen me play over the course of my youth. I competed in many competitions and won more medals than I can even remember… at least until I was old enough to be considered a woman and was forced to focus on that and only that.
Then I played for myself as a form of therapy. Now, if I could dedicate this to him, I would. I reach my favorite part of the piece. Just bars before the end where my section slows and draws out. I’ve always mentally likened it to reaching my climax. Waiting for that last lingering note to catapult me off of the edge and then the rapid burst of sensation that follows.
I lock eyes with him at the exact moment that I hit the final note.
Daniel shifts in his seat.
I smirk knowingly. We are on the same page, it seems. I’ve always wanted to be able to move people with my music in this way. I want to make them feel what I feel. Which, right now, is an unfettered desire for the man watching me. Heat explodes in my core and moves lower as I focus on him. Normally, this is the section where everything else fades away, but this time it’s like he and I are existing inside a bubble filled with tension that one wrong move could pop.
He walks slowly to the edge of the stage and comes up the three stairs separating us as the song abruptly finishes. I lift my chin to see him properly. My breath comes in heavy, shuttered bursts, and my hands tremble with exhaustion. I can feel the imprints of the strings against the pads of my fingers despite not touching them anymore.
“Exquisite,” he whispers as if he, too, is afraid of breaking the dream that we have found ourselves in. “I feel as if I’m seeing you for the first time, as a whole other person.”
Distant, muffled bells of alarm register in the back of my mind that something about his words should concern me, but the rest of me focuses on the dark notes of his cologne: coffee grounds, amber and something else I can’t identify.
My brow pinches in confusion as if I don’t know what he’s implying.
He walks a slow, predatory circle around me and stops in front of my cello. “The two times I’ve seen you, I thought you were shy because there were students about. Now, I think that you might simply be the sort of person who only shows real emotion when you play.”
I stop breathing.
“I think the best musicians are the same way. I am a man who has a deep admiration for live orchestras. Sure, I like the music, but there is something deeply moving about seeing a person totally consumed by the thing they are most passionate about.”
I”m not blind to the double meaning in his words. My core temperature falls. He has stripped me naked in just a few words. He isn”t interested in knowing how correct he is. I don”t need to tell him that the things I”ve been through have frozen my heart. Everything was taken from me. I choose to focus on the arousal and ignore everything else.
He hitches up the upper fabric of his pants before squatting in front of my cello. He runs his eyes over the strings and the curvature of the wood as if embracing it with his eyes.
“So, what I don’t understand, is how a beautiful woman such as yourself with such obvious talent did not make a name for herself? We cannot be more than a few hours out of the city, and we both know you would have had great success there. So, why would you come here instead?” Daniel says as he runs a finger along the string. It makes a strange, slow note.
I scoff bitterly and shake my head softly.
“Do you disagree with my assessment?” He looks up at me. Seeing him lowered before me is only fueling every dirty thought I’ve had about him. I feel like I’m about to do something reckless.
“No, I appreciate it,” I say dryly and clear my throat. I force myself to snap out of the fantasy and smile the same polite smile as before. “I guess I lacked opportunity. Maybe foundation.” I roll one shoulder and start to put away my bow. “Perhaps I listened to bad advice too much. My mother didn’t exactly approve, and she did not encourage my musical habits in any way.”
It’s not a lie. I hope it starts to paint a picture for him that I can use to further my false backstory here as Sofia.
Daniel nods as if he knows exactly what I mean. “I would love to discuss this more sometime.” He rises and holds out a hand to help me stand if needed. “I actually came here with the hopes of finding you. I missed my opportunity to ask you out last night and wanted to remedy that as quickly as possible.”
I want to accept. I really want to accept.
I can’t.
It’s better that nobody here gets to know me any more than they already do. I need to keep reminding myself that it’s best to keep my head down and mind my own business. If I go out to dinner with him and start to let my guard down, then I might make a mistake. I can’t risk it.
“That’s a really tempting offer. Really, you don’t know how tempting…” I graciously decline, but I take his hand and allow his help to stand before I start to put my cello away. “But I just started working here, and I don’t think that forming a relationship with the guardian of one of my students is the best idea.”
Daniel doesn’t look deterred at all. In fact, it looks almost like he expected me to decline.
“Thank you for the offer, though. I’m deeply flattered,” I say with a nod and a flash of teeth. Before he can say anything else, I turn to head backstage where I left my purse and the rest of my belongings.
I hear his steady footsteps behind me just moments after I turned to leave. There is a part of me that wants him to follow. There is a playfulness inside of me that loves the thrill of the chase and wants nothing more than for him to pull me into a darkened corner and convince me to spend my evenings with a man that looks like he does.
I should stop him or tell him not to keep following me.
I don’t.
The moment that we are out of the warm lights of the auditorium his strong hand finds my waist. Fingers indent the soft skin there and crinkle the fabric of my dress as I’m quickly spun into Daniel’s body. He walks the pair of us backward and into the shadows. The smell of old drapes is wiped away from Daniel’s nearness.
Flusteredwould be an understatement. There’s always been something so overwhelming about being in the possessive hold of a handsome man that turns my legs to jelly. My back hits the wall, and I have to fight to keep my hands to myself. I tuck them behind me so that I’m not tempted.
At the small of my back, his fingers splay out until he can push them between my own, holding me there. He pulls me closer, caging me against the wall in such a simple, effortless move. I can’t pretend that I’m not into it. I can hardly breathe. Perhaps I’ve been more touch starved than I thought. That’s the better of the two explanations for my behavior.
He’s exactly my type. Damnit.
“I wasn’t aware that we were finished speaking,” he says in a husky, low tone.
My eyes shoot up to his with a playfully defiant look. “I wasn’t aware that I needed your permission to leave.”
I can’t force the smile from my face no matter how hard I try. It’s a standoff with myself to see how long I can refrain from looking at his lips. What will I do if he kisses me? Will my resolve shatter that quickly? I have to be better than this. One touch and I melt? Yes, of course, I do. The wanton part of me wants nothing more than for him to lift me up against this wall and have his way with me.
What a thrilling way to start an affair…
Only, we can’t have an affair. This isn’t the back room of a club in Moscow. I’m not dressed to appeal to men like him. Sofia is supposed to be nothing more than a demure music teacher and I am hardly playing the correct part right now.
“I’ll only say it once more.” He loses and looks at my lips first. My chest swells with triumph. “How about we discuss what you are and are not allowed to do at dinner tonight?”
I can’t help myself.
I arch myself toward him, pulling against the hold that he has on my hands. I press my breasts into his chest and shake my head slowly. I should have chosen a better bra. I can feel everything through this one. The friction that the lace cups have on my nipples is divine. I study his face, then I land my gaze on his striking green eyes. I press my tongue against the top row of my teeth for a moment before denying him again. I whisper, “No man tells me what to do.”
The corner of his lip twitches, and I know he’s fighting the urge to smirk. It’s so easy to step back into the role of temptress. I have to stop. I need to stop, or I’m going to ruin everything. I don’t even really know this man.
He could kiss me. I can feel the heat of his lips just an inch away from my own as I stare up at him.
“I think you misunderstand. I was not actually giving you a choice in the matter.” The smirk comes out now, and it makes him look even more handsome somehow. There is a devilish glint in his eyes that’s almost hungry as he practically dares me to close the distance between us.
He reaches behind him and pulls something from his pocket and presses it into my hands. I look down and unfold the piece of paper he’s given me. It has a cell phone number on it. “Text me your address and be ready at seven.”
I can’t even answer. I want his lips on mine so badly that I barely register what he’s asked me or the million reasons why that is a terrible idea.
Then he’s gone.
Just as quickly as he came, he released me. I stagger forward without his body pinning me to the wall once more, and I watch as he walks away from me. He glances over his shoulder to wink before he leaves the stage.
“Seven. Be ready.”