Keeping her hand in his, he began singing. Immediately, moisture collected in her eyes. Because she had been to the opera every day for a week, he was certain she knew this song well. Emotion gathered in his chest, causing it to ache. She remained quiet as he sang, and just as before, he put feeling into his words. Tears trickled down her cheeks, but this time she didn’t stop them.
When he finished, his heart swelled. “I take it you remember that song,” he whispered.
“That was the last song you sang to your true love before your character died. Every night when I sat in my box seat and watched you sing, I cried at that point.” She hiccupped. “I don’t think I was the only one. Everyone in the audience was affected.”
Using his thumb, he swiped a tear from her skin. “You must have a very passionate nature to cry so easily.”
“No, just when I go to sentimental operas.”
“I will try not to make you cry ever again.”
She smiled. “If you continue to sing to me like that, I fear you will break your promise.”
He wanted her more now than before. It wasn’t very often he witnessed a woman so affected by his performance, especially one that made him want to curl up like a kitten and have her stroke him with a loving touch.
“I am afraid you have tempted me to break another promise given to you. Because I want to kiss you so much right now, I ache.” He placed a brief kiss on her tender lips. “Seeing you like this has made me insane with wanting. Your presence has controlled my every thought and action, and I feel as if I could sing to you forever.”
He kissed her again. This time she welcomed his mouth on hers. He silently cheered with victory, yet the emotion was a different kind of triumph than before. Instead of just seducing her for the thrill of conquering, his feelings ran deeper, and he couldn’t explain why. All he knew was that he wanted her to know the real Nash Burke.
As he began to thoroughly enjoy their passionate moment, the coach jerked to a stop, bringing him back to awareness. In silence, he cursed his wandering thoughts. He must be insane to feel this way about a woman who didn’t trust him and around whom he had a difficult time trusting himself.
Maxey pulled away and looked out the window. She let out a heavy sigh. “We are home.”
*
Once Maxey steppeddown from the coach, she looked upon the small cottage she had once considered a haven. For a time, she thought her family was happy here. For a time, she was youthful with happy dreams of the future.
Until her mother ruined everything.
Thankfully, the cottage didn’t appear abandoned. It was late in the evening, and knowing her brother’s wicked lifestyle, she doubted he was home. She and Nash wouldn’t stay for very long, only because she didn’t know how to explain him to her brother. Then again, she would be surprised if there was food in cupboards at all, and even if there was, eating it might make them sick.
The darkness made the cottage appear run-down. The once-white paint was now a chipped, dingy gray. The shutters hung off the windows as though a hurricane had passed through this part of town. And the lawn was nothing but weeds.
Pushing back the memories from a life worth forgetting, she hustled straight into her house. The furniture hadn’t been replaced since she left, and looked very rickety. A few cobwebs hung in the corners of the walls. She shuddered. Indeed, they would not stay here long. Spiders frightened her. Obviously, her brother didn’t know how to clean.
Not caring if Nash was behind her, she hurried into her bedroom and slammed the door. Her face still burned from the heated kiss with Nash, especially how much she had enjoyed being with him and having him sing to her.
A wave of shame washed over her from head to toe. Why had she allowed Nash to kiss her the way he had? His romantic voice had hypnotized her. She would have allowed him to do anything—anything at all.
Good grief, something was wrong with her. She wasnother mother!
A lamp still sat on her vanity, and she tested it to see if it would light. Within seconds, the room brightened. Frowning, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was a fool for coming back to this house.
She glanced at the items still on the vanity and noticed her hairbrush. She picked it up, blew off the dust, and cleaned it as well as possible. Out of anger and frustration, she pulled it through her curls in wild abandonment, cringing at each punishing stroke. Pain she well deserved.
How could she have allowed passion to control her thoughts? As much as she didn’t want to be anything like her mother, it seemed that after meeting Nash, she longed for that feeling he inspired inside her that flowed through her faster than she could ever imagine. The mere thought of succumbing to his advances frightened her to death.
She tossed the brush aside and stared at the mess she had made. Heat still consumed her, and her lips were puffy from Nash’s scorching kiss. Why had being in his arms made her feel like a real woman?
Gritting her teeth, she balled her hands. Heaven help her, but she wanted to feel his arms around her again. That would go against everything she had tried to accomplish these past several years. Could she become a strong, independent woman if she allowed a man to control her emotions?
Heavens no!
A loud bang echoed from the main room in the front of the house, as if Nash had hit a wall. Then a curse rent the air. She jumped, hoping he hadn’t broken anything.
“Why does he not leave me alone?” Nash snapped from the next room.
Letting out a deep sigh, she pushed her fingers through her mess of tangled hair, trying to make it look halfway decent. She flattened the unruly locks away from her face, but the strands of blondish-brown hair bounced back, giving her appearance an untamed look.
