Megan tapped her foot as the elevator climbed to the penthouse. Daniel’s afternoon meeting had run long, so their dinner got pushed back. Time had already been crawling at a snail’s pace ever since they parted at the parking lot of her ob-gyn’s office. Needless to say, she was impatient to see him. She couldn’t decide whether to throw herself at him the moment the elevator doors opened or to kick him in the shin for keeping her waiting. She must be very hungry for those to be the only two options she could think of.
But she ended up doing neither when she reached the penthouse, because the smell of meat and butter assailed her nostrils. Plus, Daniel wasn’t waiting for her in front of the elevator like he usually did. She followed her nose straight to the kitchen.
He was standing over the stove, barefoot in a plain white T-shirt and snug jeans. She wasn’t sure what was making her mouth water more—the smell of the delicious food or the sight of the gorgeous man in front of her.
“You’re cooking?” she managed to get out past her suddenly tight throat.
“It’s only steak.” He looked up from the pan with a distracted smile. “There’s sparkling water in the fridge, if you’re thirsty.”
“Only steak?” She grabbed a bottle from the fridge and poured herself a tall glass. “You didn’t even know where to look for tea in this kitchen.”
“I still don’t know where my housekeeper put the tea,” he said, carefully basting the two steaks with what looked like melted butter infused with garlic and rosemary. “But just because I don’t know where things are in this kitchen doesn’t mean that I don’t know my away around a kitchen.”
“Where did you learn to cook?” She hopped onto a stool and took a long drink of her sparkling water.
“Home.” Something in his voice made her frown, but she couldn’t see his expression because he had his back turned to her. When she thought he wouldn’t continue, he said, “I had to learn how to cook or live off of cold cereal.”
Her frown deepened as she felt a painful tug in her heart. “You don’t talk about your parents much.”
“I never knew my mother.” The very evenness of his tone told Megan of the pain hidden behind his words. “In a way, I guess I could say the same thing about my father. I lived at home with him until I went to college, but I might as well have lived alone.”
She wanted to go to him, but the stiff way he held himself told her that he wouldn’t welcome her sympathy. Her father had always been busy, but Megan had never doubted that he loved her. And she always had her mom and her sisters. It broke her heart that her sweet, kind Daniel had never known his parents’ love—that he had to grow up so alone.
“Okay. It’s ready,” he said with determined cheerfulness. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I’m starving.” She forced her lips into a smile and helped him set the table. Once they were seated across from each other, she said, “What? No candles?”
His huff of laughter sounded genuine. “I don’t think I have any. Even if I did, I wouldn’t know where to find the matches.”
“Well, I guess I’ll let it pass this time since you did make me dinner.” She eagerly sliced into her steak and stuffed a good-sized chunk into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut. “Mmm. I think I’d like to have this steak as my last meal.”
“I think you’re just really hungry,” he said, but couldn’t hide the pleasure from his voice.
Dinner was delicious, but Megan had to admit that her favorite part was the dessert. With a contented sigh, she snuggled against Daniel and tangled their legs under the sheets.
“Thank you for making me dinner.” Then she thought it only polite to add, “and for the orgasms.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He sounded distracted and his fingers drummed against her shoulder blade where he was resting his hand.
“Hey.” She glanced up at him. “Where’s my thank-you?”
Finally, he laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. “Thank you for the orgasm. Thank you for the privilege of making you come. Thank you—” he leaned back and placed his hand on her stomach “—for carrying my child.”
The heartfelt sincerity in his expression silenced the flippant response she had ready. “You’re welcome.”
“Wait here.” He flung back the covers and slipped his jeans over his slim, bare hips.
She rose onto one elbow and watched him hurry to his closet. He reappeared carrying a violin case in his hand. Confusion drawing her eyebrows down, she sat up with the cover held over her breasts.
He carefully laid the violin case on the bed in front of her. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat before he said, “Open it.”
Megan reached out with one hand and unlatched the case. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it against the hand she held against her chest. Based on Daniel’s expression, this wasn’t an ordinary violin. She was almost afraid to see what was inside.
Her shocked gasp filled the room and the sheet she held against her fell to her lap as she reached for the violin with her trembling hands. “Daniel, what is this?”
“It—” he cleared his throat “—it’s a Stradivarius.”
“I know it’s a Stradivarius,” she said as she stared down at the violin, slowly turning it over this way and that. “What’s it doing in your house? On your bed?”
“I want you to have it,” he said simply.
“Why?” Her eyes finally rose to his face.
His expression held no hint of the nervousness he showed a moment ago. The hard line of his mouth and the grim set of his jaws masked his emotions. What was he afraid of revealing?
“I want you to have it,” he repeated and shrugged with forced casualness. “You’re having my baby and there’s so little I could do to help. I just wanted to thank you properly.”
Megan hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until her chest started burning. She deliberately released it through her mouth. What had she been hoping he would say? That he had been an idiot for thinking that love and forever were a fairy tale that he could never give her? That this precious treasure was a token of his enduring love? Yes, that was what she had hoped he would say, because...she loved him. And she desperately wanted him to love her back.
“A Stradivarius is a bit excessive for a thank-you gift, don’t you think?” She forced a lightness to her voice that she didn’t feel. “Daniel, this couldn’t have costed a penny less than two million dollars.”
“It used to belong to Juliet Hannon,” he said, watching her face closely.
“The Juliet Hannon? The legendary violinist? I thought she was taking a sabbatical.” Megan cocked her head to the side. “Why would she sell her violin?”
“She’s going to announce her retirement. She has Parkinson’s, Megan.”
“Oh, no.” Her hand flew to her mouth and tears filled her eyes.
“She wanted her violin to go to someone who would love it and care for it just as she had.” Daniel sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on her knee. “Ms. Hannon is Anthony’s friend and mentor. When he shared the situation with me, I immediately thought of you. And they both agreed that you were a worthy successor for the Stradivarius. She sold me the violin at cost.”
So many thoughts and feelings were tumbling through her, but she only managed to say, “But that must still be over a million dollars.”
“It’s not something I could return.” He gave her a small smile.
“You should’ve discussed it with me,” she said weakly, still holding on to the violin.
“I wanted it to be a gift from me.” He ran his thumb across her wet cheek. She hadn’t realized she was crying.
He cared about her. He cared about her enough to buy her a Stradivarius. It wasn’t about the extravagance of the gift. He knew what it would mean to her. He knew she would strive to uphold the trust Juliet Hannon placed in her. He knew...her.
It wasn’t enough. Megan deserved to be loved wholeheartedly. But it gave her hope—hope that if she fought for his love, she might actually win it.
“I can’t accept this...” Something closed off in his expression and she rushed to add, “But I also can’t refuse something so precious.”
“What are you saying?” He watched her warily.
“I don’t have the willpower to stop myself from playing this violin, but you will be the only one to hear me play it. I want to keep this at your place.” She put her finger on his lips when he began to protest. “For now. You have to let me think this through, Daniel.”
He nodded, so she took her hand back. His face was still carefully neutral, but he looked more or less himself. She didn’t know what was in her expression, but Daniel put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in for a hard, possessive kiss.
“I can’t believe you gave me a Stradivarius while I’m naked,” she said a little breathlessly when he released her. “It’s a freaking Stradivarius. It deserves more respect.”
He seemed to belatedly realize that other than a thin sheet loosely covering her legs, she was still completely nude. His eyes darkened as they took in her breasts. “You are magnificent naked. The Stradivarius should be honored.”
She rolled her eyes even though she felt a blush spread across her chest and face. She gingerly placed the violin back in its case and got out of bed. Without bothering to put on her bra or underwear—the night was still young and Daniel was bound to undress her again—she pulled her oversize tunic over her head and declared herself presentable.
“Make yourself comfy,” she said, reaching reverently for the violin.
She was both eager and nervous to try out the Stradivarius, and something about giving Daniel a private performance felt deeply intimate. Like she was baring her soul to him.
Blowing out a shaky breath, she brought the violin under her chin. “Let’s see what this baby can do.”
Megan had a performance face. It was an expression he’d never seen her make. It was one of intense concentration and immersion. There was a faint groove above the bridge of her nose and one eyebrow was delicately arched. That, of course, wasn’t the first thing he noticed, but it was something he cached away in his mental file for everything Megan.
The first thing he noticed—no, felt, with every cell of his body—was the music. She’d chosen a piece lush with romance and passion. The soulful tune vibrated against his skin and bore into his heart. Listening to it while sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless and barefoot, made him feel powerless against the beauty of the piece—powerless against the talented woman creating such music. By the time Megan opened her eyes and brought the violin and bow down to her sides, his hands were shaking so badly that he had them curled into tight fists on top of his thighs.
“That was just a snippet from a violin concerto...” she began uncertainly when he continued to sit silently.
“Wieniawski,” he pushed past his dry throat. “Violin Concerto No. 2 in D minor, Op. 22.”
“You know this piece.” Surprise intermingled with pleasure in her voice. “So you weren’t bullshitting me when you said you enjoy classical music.”
“No, I wasn’t. I like listening to classical music, but I honestly don’t know all that much about it. This concerto just happens to be a favorite of mine.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I heard Anthony perform it a few years back and something about it touched me.”
With a small smile, she lovingly placed the violin back in its case and closed it shut. “Well, if you’ve heard Anthony play it, then my performance might’ve been a letdown.”
“You were incredible.” He clasped his hand around her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. “I feel bewitched.”
“Thank you,” she said shyly. “For the compliment and for the Stradivarius. It responds like no other violin I’ve ever played, and the sound took my breath away.”
“You’re welcome.” Relief rushed through him. A part of him had still been afraid that she would reject his gift. Her acceptance meant that she trusted him—that he was more than a casual fling to her. She wouldn’t cast aside without a second thought.
“If you liked the private performance so much, you should come to one of my actual performances.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I sound better in a concert hall. Your bedroom doesn’t have very good acoustics.”
“It was the best live performance I’ve ever heard.” He smoothed his hand down her bare thighs. “And you played it only for me so I could claim it as mine.”
“Hmm.” She spread her legs and straddled his hips. He remembered with a burst of heat that she wore nothing under her tunic. “Do you want to claim my music? Or...me?”
She was just being playful. She couldn’t know how desperately he wanted to claim her—to make her his. But he shied away from the thought. Claiming her meant giving himself to her as well, and he couldn’t do that. He swore never to make himself vulnerable again—never to put himself in a position to be abandoned again.
“I want to claim your music.” He lifted her shirt over her head, and she pressed her breasts against his chest. He wouldn’t claim her heart, but her body could be his for tonight. He wouldn’t let himself want more than that. They were taking this day by day. Tomorrow she might not be his, and he had to be okay with that. “I want to claim your body.”
For a moment, her teasing smile turned sad and he felt his stomach lurch. Had she wanted more? Did she want to be his? But the sadness disappeared from her eyes and her expression turned sultry. Wishful thinking was making him see things that weren’t there.
She slid around him and crawled to the middle of the bed, giving him a tantalizing view of her round ass. His chest rose and fell with increasing speed. When she reached the head of the bed, she turned around and beckoned him with the crook of her finger. He jumped to his feet and kicked off his jeans faster than he’d ever moved before. He was on top of her so quickly that she gasped in surprise, her eyes wide and a little intimidated.
The grin that spread across his face felt predatory, but when he leaned down to kiss her, his touch was tender...reverent. She had gifted him with a part of herself tonight. Her music still sang through his veins. Even as his kiss grew hungrier, more frantic, he saw the extraordinary woman in his arms and she deserved nothing less than his reverence.
“Daniel.” When he drew back to stare down into her eyes, she cupped his cheek in her hand. “Claim me.”
Her words awoke a primal need in him that he’d been trying to subdue. His hand found her center, wet and hot. She was ready for him, but he wanted her to feel as wild as he felt. His thumb drew lazy circles over her nub and she moaned, writhing under him.
“Do you want me?” he asked, inserting a finger into her tight warmth.
Her back arched off the bed. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” He added a second finger and she whimpered.
“I want you.” She jerked frantically against his hand. “I want you inside of me.”
“I am inside of you.” He drew his fingers out and pushed them even deeper inside her. Tremors were running down his spine and sweat dripped down his forehead. Even as he teased her, he knew he couldn’t hold back much longer.
“Please.”
The raw need in her single word broke his control, and he spread her legs wide and tilted her hips up to receive him. The pleasure that coursed through him when he pushed into her was so intense that it almost felt like pain. He held still to gather himself, but Megan wiggled against him impatiently.
“Please.” It was his turn to plead. “If you keep doing that, this isn’t going to last very long.”
“I don’t need long.” She moved against him again. “I promise.”
True to her words, she fell apart with his name on her lips as he buried himself inside her and rode her with wild, hard thrusts. And as she clenched around him, his own climax wrenched a guttural cry out of him and waves of pleasure wracked through him. When the real world settled around him again, he moved his weight off her and collapsed beside her.
God, she was beautiful. Her face was flushed a delicate pink, and tendrils of hair clung to her damp forehead, but it was the sweet tenderness in her eyes that made his heart perform a somersault. He reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. He wanted nothing more than to keep her by his side and wake up with her in the morning. Every morning. He snatched his hand away from her. The greedier he became, the more it would hurt when this ended—because everything ended...at least for him. The thought washed away his lethargy as effectively as a bucket of ice water.
“Let me take you home,” he said curtly and rolled out of bed. But not before he saw the hurt in her eyes. This time, he knew he hadn’t imagined it. Still, he did nothing about it...because he was a coward.