“You say it just fine.” She whispered the words into his mouth, into his soul.
Dayan tensed, his arms imprisoning her, holding her tightly to him. There had been no blood exchange. Yet she was reading his mind. Slipping in like a shadow, with skill and ease, going where only those of Carpathian blood should go. Had she learned too much? Her heart wasn’t laboring any more than normal. Carefully he touched her mind. Corinne hadn’t even noticed what she had done.
She pulled away first, in a small, delicate retreat that made him smile even as he opened his arms to allow her escape. “What attracts you so much to music?” Dayan asked, surveying the neat stacks of music magazines on the coffee table.
“Music takes me to all the places my body will never let me go,” Corinne told him, glancing up at him almost shyly. Her soft smile made his knees weak. “I’m able to feel the sensation of jumping out of an airplane or swimming beneath the ocean by just selecting the right piece. No matter where I am, or how difficult it is to breathe, if I can hear music, I know it will be all right.” Her grin was self-conscious. “That probably sounds silly to you, but you’re strong and free. I’m a prisoner trapped in this body. What my heart and soul and brain want are things I’ll never experience, so I use music to soar.”
Dayan said nothing. He couldn’t speak; the lump in his throat was blocking his ability to breathe. It was the way she lived her life. Corinne accepted what had been given to her and lived wholly despite her limitations. She embraced life. Tasted it. Experienced it. He could imagine her flying as a bird in the sky, swooping through the treetops. He would always have to stay close to her, watch over her, or Corinne would go for the stars.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Dayan,” she said softly. “You see, I’ve been incredibly lucky. I treasure each day I have.” She turned to look around her home. “I’ve had so much in my life, so many unexpected things. Come with me, look at this. Lisa is an absolute cretin when it comes to musical instruments so she didn’t appreciate this at all, but you will.” She caught his hand and tugged. “I know you will.”
He went with her because he had no other choice. He would have followed her to the ends of the earth. She took him through the hall to the open room with the piano, quickly exposing the ivory keys. Her fingers were tight around his as she pulled him to the bench, nearly pushing him onto it.
“Listen to this. Listen to the sound.” Her hands skimmed across the keys, fluttered and settled to play a sonata he immediately recognized.
The sound was beautiful, the notes true. Dayan watched her fingers glide over the keys. She played effortlessly, with a certain abandon, losing herself completely in the music. She played the way she lived life. The way she would love him. Passionately, with everything in her. Giving freely, generously. A complete merging of her body and soul and heart.
She was so beautiful to him. Her head bent over the keys, her eyes closed, her hair tousled and tumbling around her face, her expression one of concentration and rapt enthrallment. Dayan reached around her, planted both hands on the piano so his arms created an effective wall. He bent to taste the temptation of the nape of her neck. Her natural fragrance drew him, assailed his senses so that he could think only of Corinne. Of her soft skin and inviting body. Of the passion in her, the magic.
Corinne’s fingers stilled on the piano and she turned into his embrace, half rising to meet the heat of his mouth. She found fire and flames. A burst of sunlight and a shattering need more compelling than life itself. They fed off each other, devoured each other, unable to get close enough. His mouth was hot and commanding. Hers was silken and insistent. She lost herself in his mouth, in his masculine taste. He couldn’t get enough, feeding on her, taking the sweetness she offered like a starving man.