For the next hour, I run through the songs I know best, and when I reach the final note of the last, I glance around the room, noting Lucian has disappeared. Without much pause in between, I begin to play the song that he composed. The one I helped him capture in his notebook. Closing my eyes, I allow his notes to wind through my mind, while I imagine his roaming hands, and once I’ve finished, my audience claps, and I rise from the bench. Eyes scanning the crowd, I search for Lucian again, as the members of the orchestra return to their seats.
“I noticed you never once flipped through the music.” The voice has me spinning around to a masked man with gray hair behind me, wearing a standard tuxedo, and he lifts his mask just enough that I recognize Mayor Boyd.
His comment brings a smile to my face. “A freakish talent.”
He leans in, keeping his hands crossed in front of his body. “I think you mean extraordinary. One must never downplay the gifts God bestows upon us.”
Flush with the discomfort of his compliments, I nod. “That’s true.” Once again, I search the crowd for the most handsome face, but find no one familiar, aside from the man beside me.
“You’re looking for someone?”
Giulia’s words hit me again, about staying near Lucian, but I’ve met Mayor Boyd before, and the man hardly seemed dangerous. My fingers fidget with the unease of chatting with the father of Lucian’s dead wife, while just moments ago, I imagined his former son-in-law tearing away my dress. “I just … no. No one in particular.”
“Ah. If I were twenty years younger and had a stunning beauty like yourself on my arm, I surely wouldn’t let you out of my sight for long.”
Surely, he’s forgotten that I’m only nineteen. If he’s as old as I think he is, twenty years younger would still make him twice my age. And again, what an awkward conversation to be having with this man.
A change of topic is definitely in order, because if my cheeks get any redder, someone will think the man slapped me. “My apologies for not giving you a heads-up about Mrs. Blackthorne the last time you were here.”
“I didn’t realize Laura had declined so dramatically in the last few years. It’s a shame to see her that way. She was always such a vibrant and bold woman.”
“I’ve only worked with her for a short time, but I can imagine. She must’ve been quite a character.”
“She was. She treated my Amelia so well.” The first quiver of his lip knots my stomach, as his eyes shine with tears. “My sweet, sweet girl.” He lifts the mask, tugging a handkerchief from the pocket of his tuxedo, and daubs his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t think a father ever gets over losing a child.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” I don’t understand, at all, but it’s all I can think to say to him.
“I know this might sound strange, but … may I hug you?”
My whole body freezes at his request, and I am officially and utterly at a loss for words. “Uh. Well. Sure, I guess.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around me, as he pulls me in for a hug. Squeezed tight against him, my breasts smashed into his chest, he holds me there, and the broken sniffles in my ear only heighten the discomfort and alarm pulsing through me right now. It’s then I realize I’m holding my arms away from him, uncertain what to do with them.
“I just miss her so, so much.” He shifts his body against me, sliding my breasts across his chest, and I cringe at the sensation. “I couldn’t even save her soul. I only pray the Lord spared her decision.”
Shrugging to break his embrace, I feel him lower his hands to the middle of my back and tighten around me.
“I see you’ve met my pianist.” Lucian’s voice, laced with a small bit of antipathy, is a welcomed sound, and thankfully, Mayor Boyd releases me.
“She’s very good. Very talented.”
“She is. And if you’ll excuse us, Patrick, I have a private matter to discuss with her.”
“Of course.” Taking my hand in his, Mayor Boyd bends to kiss my knuckles and smiles. “I look forward to continuing our conversation after you speak with Mr. Blackthorne.”
I’d rather stare at the candles for the next three hours.
Sliding my hand out of Mayor Boyd’s, Lucian leads me through the crowd to a door made of glass, which he opens onto the courtyard outside. The full moon shines down on the decaying foliage that climbs the outer walls of the atrium, and we come to a stop in the shadows. From here, we can still see the crowd inside, but remain concealed by the overhanging trees and the stone wall of the castle.
With a bit more force than I expect, my body spins around, and the cold wall presses into my back. Lucian steps toward me, diminishing the space between us.
“When did I give you permission to play that piece?” Malice burns through his fingertips where he squeezes my arms, and once again, he’s irritated with me. When is he not?
“You didn’t, I--”
“I didn’t. That’s right. And yet, you took it upon yourself to play it, anyway.” He gives a slight shake, his lips peeling back with his anger. “Why?”
“It’s a beautiful song. So haunting, I hear it every time I close my eyes. And I’m sorry I played without your permission. It was wrong of me. Please forgive me.”
“What did he say to you?” he asks through clenched teeth, cluing me in to what I’d bet is the real source of anger pulsing through him.
“Mayor Boyd? Nothing, really. He just talked about his daughter.”
“What about his daughter?”
“Just that he misses her. What’s wrong?”
Hand to my throat, he lifts my chin, amber eyes drilling into mine. Licking his lips, he breathes hard through his teeth, the mask concealing his face enough that I can’t get a sense of whether he’s pissed at me, or Boyd. “He touched you. Why did he touch you?”
“He asked if he could hug me.”
“And you said yes? You allowed him this comfort?”
“Yes. Though, I’m not going to lie, I regretted it immediately.”
A tiny fissure cracks his veneer. Jealousy practically oozes out of him like a dangerous poison to anyone who dares touch it.
“And what about me? Would you regret it, if I kissed you right now?” His pride dangles before me like a flitting string, one I want to recklessly pull to see what it means to unravel this man.
“Are you asking my permission?”
“I don’t ask for anything. When I want something, I take it.”
The intensity staring back at me through the holes in his mask is nearly sex itself. Never has a man looked at me this way, with such possession.
“Then, what are you waiting for?”
Warm lips crush mine in a kiss that demands my surrender, as he keeps his hand propped at my throat. His other hand slides up the slit of my dress, his finger hooking the string of my panties and pulling them down my thighs. The fragile bands dig into my flesh as he nudges my legs apart with his knee.
Beneath his sensual touch and the longing in his eyes lies something filthy and depraved. Tension and hostility radiate from every pore in his body, and it suddenly occurs to me why. He can’t control himself. If he could, he’d have left me at the mercy of Mayor Boyd.