The Key by Pauline Baird Jones Page A

word, he’d heard. Something about good order and discipline. He was all for both of those things when they worked in his favor.
    Finally they finished the last song. Sara looked tired as she drank some more water. She didn’t move from behind her keyboard. She’d switched the sound off, but he noticed one hand pressed the white keys, almost absently, as if she still heard music in her head. She seemed to be far away—in a place that wasn’t happy.
    He got up and went to the edge of the platform. He felt interest ripple out again, but he didn’t care. She looked up, her gaze meeting his for a long moment. Then she looked around.
    Her chin lifted and her mouth thinned. Her eyes narrowed. Fyn shifted uneasily at these warning signs.
    She stood and closed the small gap that separated them in two steps. The platform erased the differences in their heights. As her gaze met his, her lips curved in a smile that was…provocative.
    She touched the side of his face with her hand, her fingers spreading across his cheek. Then she put her mouth on his. He was so surprised, he almost forgot to respond.
    Almost.
    He matched her move for move, and deepened the kiss, only letting her go when he felt her slight withdrawal.
    She stared at him for a long moment, tiny fires at the back of her eyes, then, without speaking, she stepped down. He turned with her, his hand finding the small of her back, as they walked out.
    They didn’t talk, though at one point, he thought she was going to say something. He felt her inhale and she looked at him…but she sighed and kept going.
    They reached her quarters, but they still weren’t alone. People always seemed to be going somewhere, all the time.
    “Can I come in?” He ran a finger down the side of her face, loving the soft, supple texture of her skin.
    Her brows arched, but her eyes smiled.
    “Not when you look at me like that. Despite the evidence,” her cheeks flamed red as her hair, “I’m not that kind of girl.”
    Before he could respond, her eyes widened.
    “Do you know, I’ve never had to say that before? I guess I should thank you for wanting to…well, you know.”
    Her eyes widened even more, then narrowed in a frown.
    “You do…know…don’t you?”
    For a moment, he was tempted to tease her, but she looked so alarmed, he couldn’t do it. He put a hand on the wall on either side of her head and leaned in close. “I do.”
    Her cheeks turned red again.
    He stroked the heated skin, fascinated by the way color came and went from it.
    “Would like to kiss you without the audience.”
    She bit her lip and looked both ways. For a moment the passage was empty. She looked up at him and he wondered who she didn’t trust, him or herself?
    “Just one and then you have to go. I’m on duty in a few.”
    Fyn followed her inside. She turned to face him, her back against a cabinet of some sort. There was barely room for both of them in the tiny room, once the door slid shut behind him.
    He started to bend toward her and bumped against her desk. She bit back a grin. He slid his arms around her waist and lifted her up, bringing her mouth to his, erasing the grin. She hadn’t said how long the kiss should be, so he took his time. When she was wrapped around him like wet clothes, he finally lifted his head. They both needed the air.
    “Good night.” He didn’t let her go. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to hold a woman, but now he was remembering.
    She blinked, and peeled herself off, sliding down to the floor again. More color surged into her face. She put as much room between them as she could. It wasn’t much. Not nearly enough. He still felt warm in the places her body had been. Her mouth had been inexperienced but eager.
    “Good…night.” Her eyes were wide and surprised.
    He didn’t leave. She didn’t ask him to.
    She bit her lip. “I’m going to…take a…walk.”
    He dropped his chin, looking at her through the shield of his hair. “Can I…walk with