Authors: Eve Montelibano
It was sacred to him. That piano was the symbolic representation of the only person he had ever truly loved.
He swallowed hard and stared at Celine’s dainty fingers as they moved gracefully and effortlessly over the keys, evoking a ballerina’s gracefulness on stage. Light and soft and yet strong. How would they feel gliding on his skin? The thought aroused such conflicting emotions inside him that he had to suck in his breath deeply to ease the tension in his body.
His eyes transferred to her lips, now hovering on a smile as she played with such feeling and lyrical expertise that astounded him. She finished the very familiar sonata with the softest touch to the last note that resonated in his soul, awakening all his long-buried memories.
“Fur Elise.”
Celine gasped and stood up clumsily from the bench at the sound of that voice, feeling like a child caught in some mischief.
Dare was leaning on the wall. Several meters separated them but she could feel the heat of his stare from across the room. How long had he been standing there? She didn’t notice him at all.
“I...I’m sorry...I couldn’t help... I shouldn’t...” She was so embarrassed.
He walked slowly toward her. The vastness of the room only emphasized his tall, well-built frame clad in black long-sleeved shirt and black, fitting pants.
He stood beside the grand piano, to her right. “Do you know any more sonatas?”
“Uhm...” She nodded wordlessly.
“Will you play another?”
“You want...?”
He smiled. “Please.”
She’d play all the sonatas she knew if he would smile like that to her every day.
She slowly sat back. She closed and opened her hands several times to relax her suddenly quivering fingers.
Here we go again.
She was having a mental block again. His nearness caused her mind to freeze. But no, this was her chance to impress him, to show him a facet of her personality.
Her mother made her study in a conservatory school of music when she was young. Marjorie even brought her to Europe so they’d watch grand symphonies to inspire her to develop her skills. Her Mom was obsessed in turning her into a prodigy, but alas, she lacked the DNA to be one. Her mother didn’t know that the one thing that really motivated her to learn to play the piano was when she saw in a magazine that Dare owned a grand piano in his home. Since then, she devoted time in learning how to play well.
“Relax. Close your eyes,” Dare said softly.
She closed her eyes.
Dare is watching. My beloved Dare. How many pieces have I practiced in the hope of one day playing them for you? So many sonatas. Yes. Listen to this, my love.
She opened her eyes and her fingers started to express the song in her heart.
Dare slowly sat beside her.
She stopped playing.
Celine went so still beside him and he could feel the tension emanating from her body. He smiled, fully aware of his effect on her. It wouldn’t sit well with him if he was the only one feeling this indefinable attraction. Seducing her would be easy.
Don’t. Don’t tread on another man’s territory.
He caught a whiff of her scent. Young. Sweet. Fresh.
“Please continue,” he said gently.
He caught a shy smile before she continued playing.
He studied her profile. Her thick, lustrous mane of dark brown hair was neatly tied up in a ponytail, but he could see fine baby hairs sticking out from her forehead and the sides of her face. It made her look very young. Unlike most women involved in the entertainment business, her face was not contoured and sculpted by plastic surgeons. She still had extra flesh on her cheeks and chin, and skin that looked naturally healthy in its silkiness.
She looked almost...unsullied. Innocent.
Almost.
He had to remind himself that she was Ben’s “PA”. Personal Assistant with emphasis on the personal.
She was playing with more passion now, her body slightly swaying with the music. Her hair would sometimes brush his neck as she moved her head.
Goose bumps.
God!
He had not felt lust this sharp and good in a long time. It was urgent, and yet he wanted to suppress it, to prolong its sweet agony. He wanted to smell her and look at her and think of her for a while, to enjoy the moment of wanting her.
Like music, he wanted to feel her.
He wanted to mock himself for his sudden romanticism. It had been a long, long time since he’d wanted to savor anything. In fact, he couldn’t remember anything he’d savored with the greatest satisfaction.
Silence pervaded between them after the last notes.
“The best interpretation of Moonlight I’ve ever heard.”
Her bashful smiles were addictive. “It’s easy to play.”
“Sure, but few can play it the way Beethoven would be proud of.”
She blushed. Could women fake blushes?
“Thank you.”
“Who’s your favorite pianist?”
“Still alive?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Valentina Lisitsa.”
He gave her a blank look. “I don’t think I’ve heard of her before.”
“She’s not famous yet like Martha Argerich, but she’s on her way. She’s hot on YouTube though.”
“YouTube?”
She nodded eagerly. ”You should check her out.”
He smiled. “Okay, since she came well recommended.”
“She’s Ukrainian but Americanized now residing in North Carolina.”
“Thanks for the info. You’re really a fan of hers, huh? I thought you’d be into Yuja Wang or Lang Lang.”
“I love them, too, but Valentina has a way of playing that’s so rare. She’s so....”
“What…?”
“Uhm...passionate and...romantic...”
He wanted to kiss her so bad at that moment.
Ben, forgive me.
“Now I’m more curious of Valentina.”
“Who’s your fave? Oh, let me guess. Pollini!”
“I hope you did not say that because of my age.”
She blushed. “Oh no! You’re not old. I mean...Pollini is old but awesome!”
He chuckled. “Yeah, he’s a favorite of mine, alright.”
“Have you been to his concerts?”
“Yeah. He does exclusive performances for some people.”
“Oh, people like the president, the Queen of England and Dare Montgomery who doesn’t watch concerts with the rest of us but pays big for an exclusive performance because he’s afraid the world will find out he’s got a soul, after all?”
His jaw slackened a bit then he burst out in a nervous laugh.
Shit. Is she for real?
“Good guess. You must sign a non-disclosure contract before working for me.”
“I should?”
“It’s SOP.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
“How come you know classical music?”
She raised one brow at him. “Is that surprising for a PA?”
That made his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. She was becoming an enigma. She looked so simple and yet…she wasn’t. “What I mean is...it’s unusual, that’s all.”
“My mother loves music. She taught me how to play the piano at an early age.”
He nodded. “I see. She taught you really well.”
Again, that shy smile that was tying him in smaller knots by the minute. She had beautiful teeth. ‘Pearly whites’ was an apt description.
“Will you play me a sonata?” she asked.
“I appreciate the music, but I don’t play.”
“Oh. You don’t?”
There was a look of disappointment in her eyes that made him wish he knew how to play even just one sonata. For her.
Damn.
“But why do you have a piano if you don’t play?”
“It’s not mine.” It came out of his lips before he could stop it.
She stared at him and then her gaze transferred back to the keyboard. Her fingertips glided gently over the shiny ivory keys. “Then...who does this belong to?”
He should stop. The conversation had gone past what he’d normally allow. But something in him won’t stop at that moment. Against the dictates of his self-preservation, his hand moved to point at an intricate crystal design embossed right on top of the keyboard. “Look closely. Inside the frame.”
She stared at the design for some time.
“What do you see?”
“Faye.”
He nodded.
She looked in his eyes again. “Who is she?”
He should stop. He really should. This was insane. He didn’t even know her. “My...sister.”
Her eyes widened and then sparkled. “Oh, great! She plays the piano, too? Nice! She must be really great at it. I mean, having this kind of piano... Wow! I hope I can meet her, too! She must be so beautiful as you are...so handsome.”
“She’s dead.”
Silence.
He felt raw. He just slashed open an old wound inside him that he had tried so hard to seal with the fire of his hatred, and later, with the ice of his grief. But a young woman played the piano and he was ripped open again...defenseless against the searing pain of his loss and the merciless lashes of his conscience.
He felt her touch. On his face. So gentle...like the Light Fairy’s touch in his dreams. Her beautiful, compassionate eyes were asking him silently.
What is hurting you, my love?
And he told her in the only way he could express it.
Celine’s world stood still. She closed her eyes.
All her greatest fantasies of her and Dare didn’t compare to this moment, when it was actually happening.
She was paralyzed, and yet she could feel everything, hear, and smell everything.
He was kissing her.
Dare, her beloved Dare was kissing her. His lips were on hers, soft and firm and Dare, all delicious Dare! He smelled so good and tasted like that expensive wine they drank awhile back. He was gentle, his warm lips hovering on hers like a butterfly’s wings, light and sweet.
“Celine...” he breathed her name raggedly and then his lips became more aggressive.
She had watched him kiss a hundred times in his movies. She wrapped her arms around him and moved her lips against his, mimicking what his leading ladies did.
Ohhhh my Lowwwd! I so love him, love him, love him! I don’t know how to kiss... Please, let me become the best kisser right now... Please, make him love kissing me...please, please, please God!
She was relieved when she heard him groan in approval. His hand tightened on her nape and deepened the kiss, his tongue darting inside. The sensation of his tongue invading the interior of her mouth was an out of this world experience. Her toes curled, her skin breaking out in goose bumps. It felt like he was invading her soul, as well.
He let go of her lips only to haul her bodily to sit sideways on his lap. He anchored her against the piano, framed her face with his palms and resumed kissing her.
It was so good, so magical, oh so new! She felt weightless but her entire body was burning up fast in a heat so hot and intense it threatened to consume her sanity. Her love for him joined the unfamiliar sensations and they quickly became one mass of rioting forces inside her.
It was too much! She couldn’t bear it! She was going to burst with it all! Tears seeped from her closed eyes as she gave in to the overwhelming feelings.
A sob escaped between their heated kiss.
He stopped and lifted his head from her face.
She opened her eyes and met his bewildered stare.
She couldn’t help it. Her body shook from inside out and she couldn’t stop crying.
He cursed under his breath and stood up, his arms still supporting her. He disentangled himself from her and helped her on her feet.
Then he abruptly dropped his hands from around her, as if burned.
“I’m...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...” He shook his head, closing his eyes tightly, holding his forehead. He turned away from her.
She didn’t want him to stop. She wasn’t crying because she didn’t like what he was doing to her. “Dare...I don’t...”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I mean...”
“Come on, let’s go back to them.”
He walked away without another word.
She was left there standing, still dazed from the encounter. Oh, dear, why the heck was she crying? She just got carried away by her intense feelings. Maybe he thought she didn’t like him kissing her?
Darn, it felt so good! Delicious!
Grrr, next time, get a grip! He must think you’re a drama queen! Just a kiss and you turned into a basket case! No wonder he fled!
She found herself giggling next. She touched her lips with her fingertips. If he came back and saw her, he’d think she was crazy, crying and laughing like this.
Dare kissed her. Really, really, really kissed her. Not a peck but a real, passionate kiss. Did it mean he liked her, too? That he found her appealing and beautiful and sexy?
Why else would he kiss her if he didn’t?
She wanted to cartwheel across the room. That was a blast of a first kiss! Better than her fantasies!
Then she remembered. Faye. He had a sister. A sister who died. She’d never read about that. Not even once. Dare had never talked about his family in all his interviews. He was clearly still hurting from the loss of his sister.
Oh, my poor love. Thank you for sharing Faye to me. I wish I can help ease your pain in any way I can.
She wiped her tears and followed Dare.
Dare had to detour to his bedroom to compose himself. He went straight to the terrace and opened all the glass sliding doors to let the breeze in.
He was shaking from inside out, his groin aching with a kind of arousal that would make a man bargain with the devil. He was thick and swollen to bursting he could feel the violent rush of his blood in every pulsating inch of him.
But riding with his unsatisfied lust was a stronger force, the realization that he had opened up to someone about his past and unleashed his deepest pain. It was a lethal combination. It shook him like nothing else.
He couldn’t believe how he’d behaved in the piano room. He told her about Faye! His precious Faye. It was like a blasphemy. She was not worthy to know about Faye. Nobody was. He had opened the door of his most sacred pain for her and let her in. He let her touch him there, in the deepest part of his being. Nobody was allowed to touch him there.