He slid his hands over the keys, listening for pitch problems. Nothing so far, he thought, concentrating. A melody tugged at him, slipping through that part of his mind that he’d never understood but found magically seductive. He played the first notes, added a chord, another measure.
He felt a flicker of excitement and tried to commit the notes to memory. More of the melody slipped through his mind, and he chased after it the same way a child would chase a butterfly. Struggling with a chord, he heard the rusty sound of the door opening. He immediately stopped. “Sorry if I woke you,” he said to whoever had come into the room. “I thought I was far enough away not to interrupt anyone’s sleep.” He glanced over his shoulder and saw Maria in the doorway.
His breath stopped in his throat. She wore a T-shirt that hugged her ample breasts and pajama shorts that showed the graceful length of her curvy tanned legs. Her expression, for once, wasn’t hostile.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to clean a closet down the hall,” she said with a shrug. “I heard you.”
Unable to tear his gaze from her, he nodded. “Oh.”
A silence followed, filled with curiosity and that fire she emanated that always seemed to start a blaze in him. “Well, you don’t have to stop.”
He blinked. “You’d like to hear more?” His mind boggled by her nod, he turned back to the piano and played a Brahms intermezzo he’d memorized years ago. When he finished, he glanced up and found her standing beside the piano.
She sighed. “So beautiful. I always wanted to learn to play a musical instrument. Music is like magic, don’t you think?”
He nodded. “Yes, I’ve always thought so.”
“Can you play something else?”
He gave a half smile. “I can play a lot of things. What would you like to hear?”
“Something sweet, but passionate. What was the song you were playing when I walked in?” she said and sat down on the bench beside him.
“Oh, that was something I heard in my head,” he said, too aware of her proximity. She smelled like a combination of roses and fresh spices.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You mean you just made it up?”
“Well, I heard it. It was just a few chords, a few measures, really.”
“Have you made up other things?”
He reluctantly nodded. “I’ve tried.”
“Play one,” she commanded. “Play one you’ve composed.”
This was the nicest she’d been to him since she’d hauled him back to the ranch on the back of her horse. He bloody well wasn’t going to refuse her. “Okay, but no rotten fruit or pies,” he said.
He played one of his recent compositions and held the last note for a few beats, then turned to her.
“That was beautiful,” she said. “Can you play another?”
He would play all night to see that soft look in her eyes. “Of course,” he said and played another. That piece eased into another and another.
Maria sighed at the end. “It’s late,” she said but didn’t move.
He nodded. “It is.”
She met his gaze. “This was nice.”
“Yes, it was.” Her face was inches from his, and it was all he could do not to lower his mouth to her exotic lips. He wanted to explore her texture, taste her, plunder her.
She glanced downward for a second, then met his gaze again, her dark eyes full of secrets he wanted to learn. “Thank you for the private concert, Geoffrey.”
“My pleasure,” he said, feeling his gut tighten in a dozen knots. “I’m quite inexpensive,” he said. “If you should like another-” He cleared his throat. “Session.”
Her lips tilted in a sensual smile and she stood. “Thank you. I look forward to it.” She lifted her hand and brushed his hair from his forehead. “You should go to bed. Morning will come early.”
“Yes,” he said, but he had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t sleep. Maria had infiltrated his senses, and it would take more than a shower to get his equilibrium back.
The following morning when Geoffrey saw Maria in the kitchen, his heart squeezed tight in his chest. “Good morning, Maria. How are you?”
“Busy,” she said in a dismissive voice. “Everyone else has eaten and left. There are biscuits and eggs in the warming pan.” She nodded her head toward the opposite counter.
“You waited for me,” he said, feeling a rush of delight.
She looked at him as if he were crazy. “No.” She lifted two large bags. “I was preparing lunches for the campers. Don’t forget to clean up,” she said and left the kitchen.
Geoffrey felt like a fool. Why did he care what this woman thought of him? The tender side of her he’d glimpsed last night must have been an aberration. Yes, she was full of fire, but she clearly wanted to use that fire only to keep him away. Yes, she fascinated him, but nothing would come of it.
Being pissed provided Lori with extra energy to clean the bathroom floors. She’d made a huge mistake by telling Jackson they should get married. In the light of day, she knew she’d been impulsive.
That didn’t change how much the ride had meant to her, though. Even surrounded by the scent of ammonia and scrubbing a white porcelain sink, she could easily recall the sensation of wind on her face, the combined scents of horseflesh and Jackson, his taut abdomen beneath her hands.
The exhilaration and sense of freedom had been the most exciting, amazing thing she’d experienced in years. The ride had made her feel alive and she wanted more. With him. She scowled at the thought.
“Hullo,” Geoffrey said from the doorway. “So sorry I’m late this morning. Can I help?”
She glanced up at him and saw a glum expression on his face. “Are you sure you want to? The floors in the main cabin are all that’s left.”
“The activity will do me good,” he said. “Can’t have you thinking I’m a bum.”
“Of course not,” she said. “Anything wrong?”
He shrugged. “My stepmother is stalking me.”
She winced in sympathy. “Oh. Can you put her on ignore?”
“I did that. She filled up my entire voice mail with messages. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but she thinks I’m completely incompetent. She has no confidence in me or my judgment.”
Lori thought of Jackson and felt a bitter twist. “I can identify with that. I got the same thing from my father and-” She broke off. “Others.”
Geoffrey looked up in surprise from the mop he was pushing. “That’s bloody ridiculous,” he said. “Look at you. You’re perfectly capable of doing whatever you want. You have a good head on your shoulders and you can even-” He waved his hand. “You’ve become an excellent cleaner.”
Lori laughed. “Are you trying to flirt with me? Telling me I’m a great bathroom cleaner.”
“No flirting. I’m completely sincere.”
“Thank you.” She rubbed a spot on the mirror above the sink. “I’m not sure Maria would give me her stamp of approval yet.”
“Yes, well, she doesn’t seem to approve of much,” he said in a testy voice. “Looks down her nose at most everyone.”
“Oh, no,” Lori said. “I thought she was getting less hostile toward you.”
“Oh, no,” Geoffrey said, shaking his head. “She looks at me like I’m something off the bottom of her shoe.”
Lori frowned. “I wonder if I should talk to Virginia about it. Maria is entitled to her opinion, but she shouldn’t be permitted to act nasty.”
“No, I think you shouldn’t involve Virginia,” Geoffrey rushed to say. “She appears to have enough on her mind.”
“That’s true,” Lori said and turned to him. “So you and I have something in common. People think we’re incompetent.” She felt a trickle of irritation run down her back. “What gave these people the right to be so judgmental? For that matter, why should we care?”
Geoffrey met her gaze and nodded. “You’re right. Bloody hell with them.”