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Authors: Iris Johansen
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that wasn’t true. He
liked
her.
But there were no guarantees liking would turn into love, and she would be a fool to expose herself to the lacerations of unrequited love when she was already an emotional basket case. She would be much smarter to extricate herself from any further involvement with Jason.
Go for the brass ring, Charlie had said.
But if she dared to reach too high, she might fall off the carousel entirely.
She crossed to the window and sighed wearily as she leaned her warm forehead on the cool glass pane. Her instincts had always been to be open and optimistic, to give on the chance that she might receive, but the pain and waiting had gone on too long. She didn’t know if she could lower her defenses and risk any more hurt. Sweet heaven, she just didn’t know what was best any longer.
Four
“Hi, Charlie.” Jason walked into the cottage the next afternoon without knocking, as he usually did these days, his gaze immediately going to the platform where Daisy sat posing in the big throne chair. He nodded politely. “Daisy.”
She felt the color rush to her cheeks and her hand clutched her shawl closer. This was the man who had made wild love to her and now he was behaving as if they had merely exchanged handshakes. Well, what had she expected? It had been her first experience, and what had happened had undoubtedly meant more to her than to him. “Hello, Jason.”
He looked away from her and moved toward the kitchenette. “Coffee?”
Charlie glanced absently at him. “Not now.”
“I’ll make it anyway and have it ready.” He grinned. “I’m turning into nothing but a kitchen drudge. And doing industrial damage to these hands my piano teacher said would shake the musical world.”
“The world is pretty hard to shake,” Charlie said, his gaze on the canvas. “You’ll get there.” He paused before adding awkwardly, “Sorry I blew up last night.”
“No problem.” Jason plugged in the coffeemaker. “We’re all entitled to an explosion now and then.” He came around the kitchen bar and settled cross-legged in his favorite spot on the floor in front of the platform. “Right, Daisy?”
The explosion of which he was speaking had been purely sensual in nature. She looked straight before her and moistened her lips with her tongue. “I’ve already told Charlie I understood.”
She was acutely conscious of Jason’s intent gaze on her. Her pulse accelerated as she remembered his words from last night about his fantasies as he watched her pose. She had a sudden mental picture of the two of them naked in this massive Spanish chair, Jason’s hands on her breasts, his hips moving …
Her gaze shifted helplessly, irresistibly, to Jason and then she wished she had continued to avoid his eyes. His face was faintly flushed and his expression blatantly sensual as he met her gaze. She knew he was remembering how it felt to be inside her; she knew he understood that she couldn’t bear this urgent tingling between her thighs.
“Move your head a little to the left, Daisy,” Charlie requested.
She jerked her glance from Jason’s face and tilted her head obediently to the left. Dear heaven, she wished Jason would go away. She could feel her breasts swell against her bodice and heat flow through her.
As if in answer to her silent plea, she heard arustle of sound as Jason rose to his feet. But instead of leaving, he strolled over to the piano, seated himself, and began to play softly.
The haunting melody silvered through the room, the notes weaving unforgettable patterns of beauty in the air.
Daisy’s hand clutched the shawl tighter around her, her gaze fixed on Jason’s dark head bent over the keyboard. She was jarred from desire to a higher emotional plane that was no less powerful in intensity. Her throat tightened as she felt the tears rise to her eyes. Beautiful. Dear heaven, his music was beautiful.
Even Charlie had been drawn from his absorption. “I like that. I don’t think
liked
her.
But there were no guarantees liking would turn into love, and she would be a fool to expose herself to the lacerations of unrequited love when she was already an emotional basket case. She would be much smarter to extricate herself from any further involvement with Jason.
Go for the brass ring, Charlie had said.
But if she dared to reach too high, she might fall off the carousel entirely.
She crossed to the window and sighed wearily as she leaned her warm forehead on the cool glass pane. Her instincts had always been to be open and optimistic, to give on the chance that she might receive, but the pain and waiting had gone on too long. She didn’t know if she could lower her defenses and risk any more hurt. Sweet heaven, she just didn’t know what was best any longer.
Four
“Hi, Charlie.” Jason walked into the cottage the next afternoon without knocking, as he usually did these days, his gaze immediately going to the platform where Daisy sat posing in the big throne chair. He nodded politely. “Daisy.”
She felt the color rush to her cheeks and her hand clutched her shawl closer. This was the man who had made wild love to her and now he was behaving as if they had merely exchanged handshakes. Well, what had she expected? It had been her first experience, and what had happened had undoubtedly meant more to her than to him. “Hello, Jason.”
He looked away from her and moved toward the kitchenette. “Coffee?”
Charlie glanced absently at him. “Not now.”
“I’ll make it anyway and have it ready.” He grinned. “I’m turning into nothing but a kitchen drudge. And doing industrial damage to these hands my piano teacher said would shake the musical world.”
“The world is pretty hard to shake,” Charlie said, his gaze on the canvas. “You’ll get there.” He paused before adding awkwardly, “Sorry I blew up last night.”
“No problem.” Jason plugged in the coffeemaker. “We’re all entitled to an explosion now and then.” He came around the kitchen bar and settled cross-legged in his favorite spot on the floor in front of the platform. “Right, Daisy?”
The explosion of which he was speaking had been purely sensual in nature. She looked straight before her and moistened her lips with her tongue. “I’ve already told Charlie I understood.”
She was acutely conscious of Jason’s intent gaze on her. Her pulse accelerated as she remembered his words from last night about his fantasies as he watched her pose. She had a sudden mental picture of the two of them naked in this massive Spanish chair, Jason’s hands on her breasts, his hips moving …
Her gaze shifted helplessly, irresistibly, to Jason and then she wished she had continued to avoid his eyes. His face was faintly flushed and his expression blatantly sensual as he met her gaze. She knew he was remembering how it felt to be inside her; she knew he understood that she couldn’t bear this urgent tingling between her thighs.
“Move your head a little to the left, Daisy,” Charlie requested.
She jerked her glance from Jason’s face and tilted her head obediently to the left. Dear heaven, she wished Jason would go away. She could feel her breasts swell against her bodice and heat flow through her.
As if in answer to her silent plea, she heard arustle of sound as Jason rose to his feet. But instead of leaving, he strolled over to the piano, seated himself, and began to play softly.
The haunting melody silvered through the room, the notes weaving unforgettable patterns of beauty in the air.
Daisy’s hand clutched the shawl tighter around her, her gaze fixed on Jason’s dark head bent over the keyboard. She was jarred from desire to a higher emotional plane that was no less powerful in intensity. Her throat tightened as she felt the tears rise to her eyes. Beautiful. Dear heaven, his music was beautiful.
Even Charlie had been drawn from his absorption. “I like that. I don’t think
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