Chapter 7
SEVEN
TENSION
Ella
The piece of music finally came together half an hour before I had to get downstairs and leave for the lunch with Gordain’s relatives. Composing went like this. I’d get the scent of a melody, a soaring riff or small arrangement of strings, and I’d be off on the hunt.
I’d slept maybe three hours last night, working out the end-to-end composition. It was sixteen minutes of an angry pursuit. A chase over ground, a fast and furious tremolo, with an ultimate loss of the quarry.
With care, I placed Suki back in the case and wiped my bow before storing that, too, mulling over where I’d pitch the piece, once I’d recorded it. It would suit a film score, as most of my more recent music did. Or maybe a computer game—a huge market for classical music.
Of the few compositions I’d sold to date, I’d only heard one used in the wild—the background to an indie movie.
In time, I wanted my music to be everywhere.
With a quick glance in the mirror, I checked my reflection—I’d showered, dressed, and styled my hair into long curls an hour ago. Good enough. I left my bedroom and took a heavy, steadying breath, my mood marred by the face I’d have to put on to see Gordain today.
He’d gone on a date last night, I was almost certain. Or a hook-up, at least. After what Ally had told me about Gordain’s habits of going out at night, it was all I’d thought about.
At midnight, frustrated and high on playing, I’d gone downstairs for an energy-boosting snack. The place had been dark, no sign of him around. And after his stressful day, it wasn’t a far reach to imagine what kind of night he needed.
I wished I’d had the mettle to kiss him, like I’d wanted to when he’d come to my room, but my inexperience bore out. There was no chance I’d be enough for him.
Gordain wore his sexuality like a mantle. A raw force that radiated off him as he moved. He was effortlessly beautiful and strong. The slightest raise of his chin, a glint in his eye, was enough to flood me with heat. His confidence and strength were addictive.
Even in his bad mood yesterday, he’d watched over me, directing me in the car, his focus split but never broken. He’d just found out that his dream career was destroyed and yet he’d cooked dinner for the household. Brought me my meal.
I hadn’t even minded him snapping at me, after I’d gotten over myself. His temper showed me that he was alive and hurting.
Today, I vowed to play the friend and not get distracted by wanting him.
At the top of the stairs into the great hall, I spied him and paused. Gordain waited by the fire, his gaze lost in the flames. Then he turned and noticed me, the side of his mouth lifting in a smirk.
“Morning. Get some work done?” he asked.
“Aye, she did. All night long, baby.” Ally appeared behind me, a girl at his side. I hadn’t heard his door despite the fact his room was only just around the corner from mine. “Luckily, we were watching films until late, so it didn’t keep us awake.”
“Hey,” I said to his friend. “I’m Ella.”
“Kaylee.” She tucked her fair hair behind her ear, a shy look on her face.
“G, game on!” Ally stooped and grabbed a basketball from where it had been sitting in the hallway.
He tossed the ball. It sailed through the open space, down towards the huge fireplace. Gordain plucked it from the air then bounced it twice on the flagstone floor, the sound echoing. He raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“This is on,” Ally crowed and clattered down the stairs.
Head-to-head with his older brother, Ally grinned wickedly and dove for the basketball. Gordain backed away, circling until he could make a break across the hall.
I tried not to see his smooth moves, the neat twist of his hips that had him evading Ally again, the two of them chasing about the floor. He lifted the ball, his biceps sharpening and his focus on the opposite wall.
Good God, he was attractive.
There could only be one reason for his improved mood. I was not thinking about that.
Ally leaned in and whispered something, and Gordain smirked wider, whispering one word back. He feinted left, but his brother anticipated him and stole the ball. Kaylee, beside me on the landing, gasped and hung over the rail, her attention rapt.
Ally made a run and launched the ball at a protruding stone I’d never noticed high on the wall. “Boom!” he yelled as it hit home, and he raised his arms in a cheer.
Gordain applauded, a small glance up to the stairs telling me he’d let that win happen so Ally could impress his girlfriend.
Except his gaze lingered on me.
“Ally’s so talented.” Kaylee sighed.
“Ella, ye coming?” Gordain stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
I gave him a nod, totally cool and in control.
In my dreams.
Outside, a gentle sun warmed my skin. I held up my keys. “Ready for another ride?”
Gordain shook his head. “I have something else planned. Follow me.” He walked backwards a few steps.
I trailed after him, puzzled. “It was sweet what you did for your brother, letting him win.”
“Who said I let him win?” He took the corner of the castle.
I caught up. “But you did. I’m glad to see you’re a little happier.”
Gordain not having his sunny outlook was just wrong, so there was some small benefit to him getting… No! Not thinking about it.
We walked toward the garage, and I asked the question I’d been determined not to ask. “Have a good night last night?”
Gordain paused, midway through opening the side door. “Aye.”
“Great.” My stomach turned itself into one big knot, and I fought back the stupid, stupid jealousy that overtook me in a wave.
He’d slept with someone.
It had put a smile on his face like I never could.
I stepped after him, not paying attention to my surroundings, misery mixing with the sheer envy.
Then I blinked, because Gordain’s motorcycle gleamed in front of me. He waited beside it, his hands on his hips.
“I spent the evening out here tuning up my bike. What did you think I’d been doing?” Humour lit his eyes.
He was teasing me? My lack of sleep had my emotions in a whirl. That was the only explanation I had for why I suddenly felt worse rather than better.
He’d been here the whole time I’d been hacking out an angry composition.
Not screwing some willing, experienced woman.
“Why didn’t you?” My voice came out tiny.
“Why didn’t I what?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Go out.”
The humour left Gordain’s expression, and he palmed the back of his neck. “Maybe because of the look on your face right now.”
I stared at him.
He dragged in a breath. “Fine. Because of the look on my face right now.”
My body had frozen up, and I gave my head a gentle shake, keeping my attention on him. A tender warmth emanated from his gaze, but there was longing there, too. Banked but fierce.
Tension stretched out between us. Tangible and warm.
“Okay,” I said calmly, the only acknowledgement I could muster. I was so out of my depth. It had never bothered me before. Not when I’d only imagined kissing him. Now, my mind worked overtime. Last night, I’d pictured him fucking another woman. Resigned myself to it.
If I put myself into that picture, became the woman in his arms…I’d have no idea what to do.
“Okay,” Gordain repeated back, the word quiet but the weight of his gaze pinning me to the spot. “We need to go if we’re going to be on time. We can… We’ll talk more later, aye?”
“Let’s do this thing.” I tilted my head at the bike.
Gordain wheeled it outside, and I carried the two helmets that sat on the workbench. He went back inside and emerged with his leather jacket.
He stood in front of me and, wordlessly, put it around my shoulders.
I slipped my arms inside, in a kind of trance, held by the power of the energy between us. We put our helmets on, and I secured mine under my chin. Then Gordain threw a leg over the big bike and looked back at me. I palmed his shoulder, climbing on behind.
Then I slid my arms around his waist, snug against him.
This felt so right.
“Hold on to me, Ella,” he murmured, then the bike purred between my thighs.
And we were away.
Gordain drove us out of the McRae estate with care, avoiding potholes and going slow. This wasn’t what I expected, not from a hot pilot. He should be gunning the engine and making me scream.
“I thought you’d try to impress me by going fast,” I yelled to Gordain, pressing my fingers into his t-shirt so he knew I was saying something.
“Then the journey will be over quicker,” he replied, turning his head so the sound of his voice carried. Then he reached back and took hold of my thigh, pulling me tight to him.
“Better,” he said.
I grinned and rested the helmet on his broad back, then linked my fingers over his firm stomach. I didn’t have the guts to slide a hand under his loose t-shirt. To touch his skin.
Maybe I could manage that on the way back. Because something huge had shifted between us, and I had to work out what it was.
Lachlan and his wife were waiting outside Castle Braithar’s imposing entrance when we pulled up. Gordain brought the bike to a halt and helped me off. I dragged the helmet from my head, and he held out a hand for it, stowing it on the seat next to his.
“Guess all the effort I put into my hair was wasted.” I ran my hands through my curls, shaking them out from where the helmet had flattened them.
“You look beautiful, like you always do,” he said quietly, and I could only swallow my surprise as he took my hand in his and led me to meet his relatives.
He thought I was beautiful.
It took everything in me to summon my manners to get through the visit.
Over the meal, Marianne, Lachlan’s wife, told stories of how Gordain had spent half of his childhood in their castle. I snuck glances at Gordain, imagining him as a boy, a sweet little grey-eyed child.