Page 18 of Never Leave Me
Amazement and joy welled up inside her, as it had earlier. He was strong enough to hold himself upright on legs he hadn’t used in decades.
If anyone deserved to find happiness, Harrison Burlington did. He was a good, kind, and giving man. In fact, none of her other friends had been as devoted to her during her battle with cancer. Yes, she still had plenty of wonderful friends from college and work, but no one had gone to the lengths Harrison had to make sure she was cared for and comfortable in her last days.
His violin was braced between his chin and shoulder, his fingers flying expertly over the strings, his other hand guiding the bow, tilting and angling in a perfect dance. He’d added harmonics so that the music was layered and complex and heart-wrenchinglybeautiful. For several moments, he conducted the unseen orchestra until he halted abruptly and spun.
The music faded, and the silence was startling.
At the sight of her, the stiffness in his shoulders visibly relaxed, and he offered her a sheepish grin. “You gave me a fright.”
She was struck again as she had been yesterday at how much more youthful he appeared without his glasses. He’d shed his suit coat and vest. His bow tie was gone and the top three buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned—a decidedly wrinkled and untucked dress shirt.
“Did my noise wake you?”
“It wasn’t noise.” She stepped farther into his gadget room. The walls were lined with speakers, wires, monitors, and an assortment of electronic equipment she couldn’t name. “It was lovely music.”
He lowered his violin to a case and popped out the amp cord. “I’ve always wanted to have a go at playing from a standing position.”
She understood what he wasn’t saying, that tonight had been all about doing the things he’d never been able to. At the thought of him embracing each new activity with the same gusto he’d used when skipping the stairs two at a time, hot tears formed in her eyes. She fought them back with a smile. “So, I take it you haven’t had any sleep?”
“Not a wink.” The excitement on his face was like that of a little boy at Christmas.
“You need to rest, Harrison, or you’ll make yourself sick.”
“I’ll rest soon enough. First, I’m keen to check another item off my ‘Always Wanted To Do List.’”
“And what’s that?”
He bent over his laptop and pressed a few buttons, and a waltz began to pour from the speakers on the wall, likely one he’d recordedhimself. Then he faced her again and gave a formal bow before holding out his hand. “Would you give me this dance?”
“Dance? Here? Now?”
He glanced around the crowded room with the cords crisscrossing the cluttered floor. “You’re quite right. This won’t do.” He beckoned her with his fingers, giving her little choice but to place her hand in his. As his fingers closed around hers, warmth pulsed down her arm, making her all too conscious of his presence, so tall and lean and alive.
He led her out into the spacious bedchamber. “This is more like it.” He tugged her toward him.
A motherly voice at the back of her head warned her that what she was doing was improper, dancing in a man’s bedroom in the dark. But how could she say no to Harrison? After all, he’d never been able to dance before, and if he wanted to waltz right here and now, then he deserved to do it.
In fact, he deserved to waltz and so much more. He placed one hand on her hip and began to move with surprising skill. She’d had dance lessons when she’d attended Sevenoaks, but she hadn’t expected that he’d know how.
“You had no idea I could dance, did you?” he asked with a rakish grin.
“None.”
He laughed lightly. “My mother was very old-school and insisted I have dance lessons. She hired a private instructor who specialized in giving lessons to people in wheelchairs. Whenever I protested, she always said, ‘I’ve never known a nobleman who doesn’t know how to dance, and I’m not about to start now.’”
“I wish I could have known her.”
He spun her and then returned his hand to her hip. Harrison’s parents had been much older when they’d had their only child. They’d died before Ellen had moved to the UK, within ten yearsof each other, his father to a heart attack and his mother to breast cancer.
“I wish she could see me now.” He looked off to a place above Ellen’s head. “I’m afraid I wasn’t the easiest child. I was rather stubborn and full of self-pity.”
“I can’t imagine that.” Ellen allowed her fingers to unravel at his waist, suddenly conscious of the solidness of his torso. “You must have yourself mistaken for someone else. I’m sure you were the perfect child.”
He laughed and twirled her in a circle, catching her against him a little closer. “Are you saying I’m incapable of being naughty?” His voice rumbled near her ear, and although she was sure his question was innocent, a tingling heat spread through her middle, nonetheless. It brought back the remembrance of kissing him, of the entirely too pleasurable sensations of their lips melding together in their own kind of dance.
The heat in her middle widened to encompass her chest. And she suddenly couldn’t look at his face for fear she’d gaze directly at his lips so that he’d realize she was thinking about them kissing. She didn’t want him to know she was dwelling on it, not when she’d insisted they forget it ever happened.
“What else is on your ‘Always Wanted To Do List’?” She had to focus on their friendship. Harrison was her friend. Nothing more. And she needed to keep it that way.
