This evening, she’d play another concert at the Amsterdam Royal Concert-Gebouw to another sold-out crowd. Oh, how she longed to share what she knew in front of the entire crowd. But that would surely draw unwanted attention to her, which would risk the good they were doing.
That couldn’t happen. They were just getting started—the groundwork had barely been laid for their vast network to continue helping people escape.
“A penny for your thoughts.” Rick’s low timbre greeted her from the direction of the door in the adjoining parlor.
She smiled toward him, her heart doing a tiny leap. “Would you like to join me? I’m reminiscing over our time here.”
Soft footfalls made their way closer. “It’s been harder than you hoped, hasn’t it?” The cushion beside her sank.
How did he know?
“By the furrow in your brow, I’m guessing that my words are correct?” The smile in his tone made her feel warm. Safe. Protected. Something Rick always managed to do.
“Exactly. I’m not as good at hiding my feelings as I thought I was.” She drew in a breath.
“I’ve come to know you pretty well, Chaisley. Your facade is impeccable, but you forget what I’ve been trained to do. I’m also a bit partial to studying my favorite subject.”
Warmth bloomed in her face. She shifted on the settee so her body faced him. “I just realized I don’t know what you look like, Mr. Zimmerman.”
He chuckled. “Oh, we’re back to formality now?”
“Only because you have been studying me and know what I look like—late at night, early in the morning, even all dressed up for a concert—but I only have what I picture in my mind from what I hear and smell and ... touch.” She dipped her chin and swallowed. “Would you mind if I study your face?”
His breaths quickened. “I don’t mind. But how—?”
“With my hands.” She lifted them. “You’ll have to scoot closer though. My arms aren’t that long.”
The cushion shifted and she felt his weight move until their legs touched. The tingles that shot up her spine spread throughout her limbs.
He put a hand on each of her wrists and pulled her hands to his face.
Her palms conformed to the planes of his face, and she held it for a long time. Then, with slow movements, she moved her right hand over the left side of his face.
Thick hair, the ridges of his brow, a straight nose, and the rugged edges of his jawline all took shape in her mind.
“Sorry.” He whispered. “I need to shave.”
Heat worked its way up her neck. “I don’t mind.” She moved her left hand the same way she’d moved her right and then did another pass with both hands at the same time. She imagined her hands were like those of a sculptor as he worked with clay. She could see every bit of his face and it was even better than she imagined. “What color are your eyes?”
“Brown.” His hands were on her wrists again as she held his face.
“And your hair?”
“Blond. Although it has been darkening over time.” His voice was so soft, but she felt his breath on her face. “It probably looks a little bit like dirt now.”
She laughed. “You are a very handsome man, Rick. Even with hair the color of dirt.” She dreaded removing her hands, but it was only proper. As she pulled them away, his hands snatched them back and held on.
“Not really. Especially in comparison to you.” His breaths were quick, like staccato notes played on a drum. “You are truly the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Inside and out.”
She held her breath. They were so close she could feel the space between them diminishing with each second.
When his breath touched her lips, she anticipated his kiss. She’d never been kissed by a man before. Not in a romantic way or on the lips. “Rick,” she whispered and put her right hand back on his cheek. They were only an inch or so apart. “You’ve come to mean a great deal to me.” She should kick herself for spilling her heart so easily, but she trusted this man. With her whole heart.
“I care about you more than you know, Chaisley.”
Her heart beat so fast it could outrun her fingers on the piano.
The squeaky turn of the doorknob caused them both to jerk away.
