Heart's Reward by Donna Hill

got to do, and his motorcycle, which he rode whenever he could.
    â€œI can see you on a bike,” she said with renewed appreciation for this man’s man.
    â€œYeah, it’s pretty cool,” he said, bobbing his head. He looked across the room and zeroed in on the piano.“Come on.” He took her hand and walked her over to the piano. He sat down on the bench and invited her to join him. Once she was settled, he drifted into a rendition of “Ordinary People,” then segued to “A House is Not a Home,” then a medley of some jazz pieces and R&B favorites. Everyone from their spot in the room either hummed or sung along, and for a time lost themselves in the moment and the music.
    â€œThat was amazing,” Melanie enthused when he brought his one-man show to an end. “If you ever leave government, you can always get a night club gig.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.”
    When they looked up, they realized that they were alone. The others had drifted off.
    â€œWell,” Melanie said on a breath, “I should show you to your room.”
    â€œSure.”
    They pushed back from the bench. Claude’s arm braced her back when she stumbled over the leg of the bench. She turned halfway and found herself in an almost embrace.
    Her cheeks heated and again she was thankful for the darkness.
    â€œGood catch. Thanks.” She righted herself and moved out of his arms and realized how good they felt around her, even better than they did the night they met.
    She went to the other side of the room and took one of the lamps and a flashlight from the table. She handed the lamp to Claude and led the way upstairs with the flashlight.
    When they reached the top of the landing Melanie turned left down the hallway, adorned on either side by abstract art from a local female artist from the Harbor who’d captured Melanie’s attention.
    â€œYour room is right here.” She opened a door and, even in the dim light, Claude could see it was a stunning layout. King-sized bed, bay windows overlooking the surf, flat-screen television mounted on the wall, lush carpet cushioned any footfall. An armoire and an eight-drawer dresser provided the additional furnishings, along with a deep, overstuffed lounge chair near the window.
    â€œThis is some spread for a guest,” he said.
    Melanie laughed lightly. “We never know who might wind up staying with us and we want to make sure that everyone is as comfortable as possible. During the summer months we have guests that stay for a couple of weeks at a time. It’s quite beautiful here in the summer.”
    â€œYes, it is.” He drew in a long breath and slowly exhaled.
    The awkward moment introduced itself and stood between them. Waiting.
    Claude cleared his throat.
    Melanie lightly ran her tongue across her bottom lip. “Um, the bath is through that door,” she managed to say.
    He nodded but didn’t speak, his gazed fixed on her, taking her in.
    If anyone would have asked her what in the world she was thinking at that moment, she would not have been able to explain. It was like watching a movie. That fateful moment when the two actors realize that they can’t deny their attraction any longer and the woman finds herself tightly woven in the embrace of the man she’s desired but couldn’t have.
    Their kiss was surreal and electric, inevitable yet stunning in its suddenness. Warmth became a physical thing touching and stroking her curves, stoking what before was smoldering until her skin was on fire and the pool of heat settled in her center.
    His mouth was more than she’d imagined when she memorized the dip and thickness of his lips. It was firm and soft and full and gentle and teasing and commanding—all at once. She couldn’t keep up with the sensations so she let herself become one with them.
    â€œI’ve thought about this from the day that I met you,” he said against the