Corinne rubbed her face against his broad chest. “I never know what is actually important and what is sheer nonsense,” she admitted teasingly, trying desperately to lighten the mood when she really wanted to cry in relief.
Dayan laughed softly, obliging her. “You are so good for my ego. Everyone else obeys me; I think you should too.”
She pulled reluctantly out of his arms and looked around in astonishment at the rapidly disintegrating fog bank. It was melting away as if it had never been. “I’m the one everyone listens to, Dayan,” she pointed out, her mind puzzling over the peculiar phenomenon.
Dayan intertwined his fingers with hers to bring her back to him. He kept her locked firmly beneath his shoulder as they walked toward the house. “And I am certain we all obey.” She fit perfectly, her smaller frame moving against his, soft and feminine, reminding him continually of their wonderful differences.
Corinne glanced up at him, studying his features, then ducked her head to hide her expression. His eyes held warmth when they looked at her, but they took on a merciless stare when he looked away. He seemed more animal than human. Even his movements, fluid and powerful, seemed inhuman. She struggled to understand exactly what it was about him that she found intimidating.
Her heart, instead of matching the rhythm of his, was pounding very hard and fast. Her mouth was dry. “Dayan.”
“Why are you frightened of me when I treat you so gently?” His voice was soothing and tranquil. He never sounded annoyed or irritated by her thoughts. Dayan took the keys to the front door out of her hand and unlocked it.
Corinne thought a long time before she answered.
Just how afraid was she of Dayan? She looked up at him, at the rugged angles and planes of his face. At his strong jaw. At his sculpted mouth. “I don’t think I am, really,” she mused aloud. “There’s something different about you, Dayan — something dangerous. But not to me. I don’t think the threat is directed at me.” Her chin went up. “You know, I’ve always detested the way everyone wanted to tell me what to do with my life because of my health. I have a good brain and I can figure things out for myself. If you choose to spend your time with me and you want to care for me, knowing full well the repercussions of what can and probably will happen to me, then so be it. It’s your choice, Dayan.” She reached up and framed his face with her hands. “Just know that if you care too much, death can be very painful to the one left behind.”
“Would it stop you, Corinne?” he asked quietly, his dark gaze drifting broodingly over her face. “If I were the one with the bad heart, would you walk away from me?”
A slow smile curved her mouth, lit her face and dispelled the worry hidden in her eyes. “I love life, Dayan. I believe in living it. I would never pass up love or laughter or knowing you because I was afraid of pain. It would be a small price to pay for your company. But then, I’ve known pain and experienced things others haven’t. I’ve learned the value of love and laughter.”
Dayan turned his head slightly even as his gaze remained fixed on her face, devouring her. He kissed her hand, drew her finger into the heat of his mouth.
At once her body clenched and a thousand butterflies brushed at the walls of her stomach. He made her feel beautiful, and sexy and very wanted. “What do you think you’re doing?” She faced him with her heart in her eyes and her breasts rising and falling in anticipation.
His tongue did a slow, silky caress along her finger, then reluctantly released her. “Seducing you,” Dayan admitted without remorse. He bent his head to find her mouth with his, kissing her leisurely, a long, slow kiss meant to tell her what he couldn’t seem to convey with mere words. Poet or not, there were no words to say how much she meant to him. No words to say he would follow her anywhere. That she was life to him.
“You say it just fine.” She whispered the words into his mouth, into his soul.
Dayan tensed, his arms imprisoning her, holding her tightly to him. There had been no blood exchange. Yet she was reading his mind. Slipping in like a shadow, with skill and ease, going where only those of Carpathian blood should go. Had she learned
too
much? Her heart wasn’t laboring any more than normal. Carefully he touched her mind. Corinne hadn’t even noticed what she had done.
She pulled away first, in a small, delicate retreat that made him smile even as he opened his arms to allow her escape. “What attracts you so much to music?” Dayan asked, surveying the neat stacks of music magazines on the coffee table.
“Music takes me to all the places my body will never let me go,” Corinne told him, glancing up at him almost shyly. Her soft smile made his knees weak. “I’m able to feel the sensation of jumping out of an airplane or swimming beneath the ocean by just selecting the right piece. No matter where I am, or how difficult it is to breathe, if I can hear music, I know it will be all right.” Her grin was self-conscious. “That probably sounds silly to you, but you’re strong and free. I’m a prisoner trapped in this body. What my heart and soul and brain want are things I’ll never experience, so I use music to soar.”
Dayan said nothing. He couldn’t speak; the lump in his throat was blocking his ability to breathe. It was the way she lived her life. Corinne accepted what had been given to her and lived wholly despite her limitations. She embraced life. Tasted it. Experienced it. He could imagine her flying as a bird in the sky, swooping through the treetops. He would always have to stay close to her, watch over her, or Corinne would go for the stars.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Dayan,” she said softly. “You see, I’ve been incredibly lucky. I treasure each day I have.” She turned to look around her home. “I’ve had so much in my life, so many unexpected things. Come with me, look at this. Lisa is an absolute cretin when it comes to musical instruments so she didn’t appreciate this at all, but you will.” She caught his hand and tugged. “I know you will.”
He went with her because he had no other choice. He would have followed her to the ends of the earth. She took him through the hall to the open room with the piano, quickly exposing the ivory keys. Her fingers were tight around his as she pulled him to the bench, nearly pushing him onto it.
“Listen to this. Listen to the sound.” Her hands skimmed across the keys, fluttered and settled to play a sonata he immediately recognized.
The sound was beautiful, the notes true. Dayan watched her fingers glide over the keys. She played effortlessly, with a certain abandon, losing herself completely in the music. She played the way she lived life. The way she would love him. Passionately, with everything in her. Giving freely, generously. A complete merging of her body and soul and heart.
She was so beautiful to him. Her head bent over the keys, her eyes closed, her hair tousled and tumbling around her face, her expression one of concentration and rapt enthrallment. Dayan reached around her, planted both hands on the piano so his arms created an effective wall. He bent to taste the temptation of the nape of her neck. Her natural fragrance drew him, assailed his senses so that he could think only of Corinne. Of her soft skin and inviting body. Of the passion in her, the magic.
Corinne’s fingers stilled on the piano and she turned into his embrace, half rising to meet the heat of his mouth. She found fire and flames. A burst of sunlight and a shattering need more compelling than life itself. They fed off each other, devoured each other, unable to get close enough. His mouth was hot and commanding. Hers was silken and insistent. She lost herself in his mouth, in his masculine taste. He couldn’t get enough, feeding on her, taking the sweetness she offered like a starving man.
Her hands slid beneath his shirt, his hands were tugging at her blouse. The fire was explosive, the heat an inferno. There was no rational thought, only the feel of skin, hers satin soft, his firm and defined with hard muscle. He shifted her, his knee thrusting between her legs so she was riding on the hard column of his thigh.