Divided Hearts by Susan R. Hughes Page B

Faye realized he was right; she hadn’t thought of her own needs and desires in so long that she barely remembered what they were. The dreams she might have fostered at one time—meeting a man she could fall in love with and marry—were notions she’d locked away after Hannah was born. Now, she was suddenly aware of these desires pulling on her soul with a mighty force. And she had no idea what to do with them.
    Realizing she’d been in the shower far too long, Faye finally turned off the water and stepped out of the tub, bending to grab the towel she’d set on the bath mat.
    She tried to put Simon out of her thoughts but it was a pointless effort. As she rested her foot on the edge of the tub to dry her leg, in her mind’s eye rose an image of deep azure eyes, gilded with sunlight as he observed her over the helm, his sensual mouth forming a soft smile. As the towel slid up her thigh, her movements slowed, the stroke of the fabric against her bare skin sparking a sharp feminine awareness. She closed her eyes, envisioning Simon’s hand in place of hers, gliding leisurely along her flesh, the warm weight of his fingers on her thigh inciting a torrent of delightful sensation. Recalling the heat of his lips against the tender skin of her wrist, she allowed herself to further imagine that mouth skimming her inner thigh; as she savoured the thought she felt a liquid heat invade her limbs, blistering beneath her skin like glowing embers, a flare of searing excitement.
    Honestly, Faye, get ahold of yourself!
    Heeding the admonishment of her more sensible inner voice, Faye let her foot drop to the floor, swiftly toweling off the rest of her body before sliding into her nightgown. Wiping the steam off the mirror so she could see herself, she began vigorously combing through her wet hair. Her refection stared back with wide eyes, her face flushed. Well, it was no wonder, with the lurid thoughts she’d been foolishly entertaining. Once her hair was dry, she’d go straight to bed and dodge temptation altogether.
    Switching off the bathroom fan, Faye became aware of a sound outside the room, swelling in pitch and volume. Music, it sounded like. As she opened the door, the music hit her in a wave. Piano, definitely. At first she assumed someone had turned on a CD—but as she stepped out into the hallway she realized the music was coming from the piano upstairs, the rich tone of it reverberating through the walls and floor. She recognized it as Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata , one of her favourite pieces. It was being played gently, flawlessly, with as much emotion as one could invest into a piece of music.
    Faye paused by the door to the guest room, pressing her ear to the door. No sound from Hannah. The music was loud, but Hannah had a talent for sleeping through almost anything.
    She knew she should go straight into the bedroom and slip into bed. But she waited, listening, the music pulling at her.
    Faye crept up the stairs and into Simon’s office, where the music swelled outward from the loft beyond, filling the air around her with the aching beauty of its rising notes. She moved toward it, the hairs on her arms rising as the music reverberated through her, her pulse surging.
    She knew she’d find Simon at the piano. Wearing a robe over pajamas, he sat at the bench, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the keys. His head was bowed, his eyes closed, as though his whole being were immersed in the music he created. As she watched and listened, enraptured, the tenderness and sense of longing with which he played touched her deeply.
    Glancing up from the keyboard, Simon saw her there, and stopped playing abruptly, letting his hands fall away from the keys.
     

     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Faye said. In the sudden silence the heavenly arrangement of notes continued in her head, her body still vibrating with them.
    “Hannah woke up while you were in the shower,”