Hot Single Docs: Blinded By The Boss. Amy Andrews

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СКАЧАТЬ shook his head, as if the concept were new to him. It probably was. Short of a nuclear explosion, it was practically impossible to divert his attention away from what he was doing at work. ‘You don’t need to sit in here, you know.’

      ‘Yes... I mean, no. I mean... I don’t want to get in the way.’

      ‘You aren’t. I’d appreciate the company.’

      He meant it. Edward who had always seemed so aloof at work, so self-sufficient. And yet he’d surprised her by seeming to understand just how she and Isaac felt. There was a great deal more to Edward than met the eye.

      ‘Me, too. I’ll...make some coffee, shall I?’ She looked at the mug of instant in front of her. ‘Some fresh coffee.’

      ‘That’s okay. I’ll do it.’ His mouth quirked. ‘Refreshments and snacks don’t count as cooking.’

      His quiet, dry humour curled around her like a delicious full-bodied chuckle. ‘Oh. So you’re beginning to chip away at our bargain, are you?’

      ‘I don’t think so. I don’t remember any mention of brewing, looking in the fridge, or pouring.’ He measured the coffee into the machine and switched it on. ‘And I certainly don’t recall having covered electrical appliances.’

      She smiled at him. ‘I’m going to have to watch myself, aren’t I? Next time I make a bargain with you, I’ll make sure I read the small print.’

      Did that sound a bit too forward? Hopefully everything would be settled in a few days’ time and she would be on her way back home. Edward would forget her as he moved on to his next project of interest.

      ‘Yeah. Always read the small print.’

      He flipped open the cupboard doors and pulled out two cups, his long fingers placing them precisely on the counter. He had a delicate touch. He had to have. Microsurgery was one of the most challenging disciplines in a challenging world. And Edward was the best at what he did—just like everyone else at 200 Harley Street.

      He made the coffee and picked up her cup with his own, taking it into the sitting room, as if unsure whether she might follow otherwise. Charlotte perched herself on the sofa, casting around for something that she could make conversation about.

      ‘This is a lovely room.’

      He nodded. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Do you play the piano much?’ From the wide-ranging collection of CDs on his shelves, and the grand piano, Edward was obviously passionate about music. In the three days that she and Isaac had been here, though, he’d never once opened the piano. Never once switched on the high-end audio equipment.

      ‘Most days. Do you play?’

      ‘No. I love listening, though.’

      He must have changed his routine because of her presence. Maybe she could encourage him to change it back again.

      Edward didn’t move. ‘I wouldn’t want to wake Isaac.’

      ‘You won’t. He’s upstairs and he’s fast asleep.’

      Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. Maybe this was something private, that Edward didn’t like to share.

      It was something private—she could see it in the way he hesitated. But then he made his decision, jumping up and striding across the room. Charlotte tried not to notice the ease with which he lifted the heavy lid, or the way that his shoulder flexed as he propped it open. Suddenly his mastery over the large, shining instrument was physical, as well as just a matter of the mind.

      Sitting down, he raised the lid from the keyboard and lowered his fingers onto the keys. ‘Any requests?’

      For a moment she couldn’t think. Then Charlotte knew what she really wanted to hear. ‘Something you like.’

      He nodded. Charlotte was expecting something classical, but the soft strains of Ain’t Misbehavin’ started to float across the room. Mesmerised, she moved closer and he beckoned her over, shifting up on the long piano seat to make room for her.

      She swallowed hard. The music invited her. The way he made the song sound as if it had been written just for her. His sensitive fingers stroked the keys. Charlotte wanted nothing more at that moment than to sit next to him, be a part of this world. His world.

      He raised one eyebrow at her hesitation, and the music swelled in reproach. She gave in and slid onto the edge of the stool, angling her body away from his.

      ‘You’ll fall off...’

      The music dropped to a few notes, played with his left hand, while his right arm curled around her waist, pulling her further onto the stool. She was not quite touching him, and the seat was plenty long enough for two, but that didn’t seem to make any difference. She could practically feel his body moving against hers.

      There were a few chords that seemed to be his own addition to the mix, and then he segued into As Time Goes By.

      ‘Mmm. Love this one.’ She closed her eyes and let the music wash over her.

      ‘Yeah. Kind of sad... Haunting.’ He added an extra verse and chorus onto the end and then smoothly moved on into another melody that she couldn’t name, but which she recognised from an old film.

      ‘You like this?’

      ‘I feel I should be in a cocktail dress and expensive jewellery. Leaning against the piano and sipping... I wonder what they were drinking in Casablanca?’

      He chuckled. ‘Champagne?’

      ‘You remember?’

      ‘No. Just a guess. I’ve got a bottle somewhere, if you’d like some.’

      Charlotte laughed. ‘No. I don’t have the cocktail dress.’ Or the jewellery. Her mother’s ruby necklace, the one that she thought she’d never part with, had been sold and the money spent on the bricks and mortar of her house. The one that she’d been driven out of just a few days ago.

      He seemed about to say something, then stopped himself. Moved on to play another song. The soft, melancholy chords filled the air around them.

      Suddenly the music stopped. ‘Hey... Hey, what’s the matter?’

      She felt him turn, but didn’t raise her head. She didn’t want Edward to see the tears.

      Too late.

      His fingers touched her arm, hesitantly at first, and then more resolute. She felt his arm around her and, try as she might, couldn’t bring herself to break away from him.

      ‘It’s nothing. Just the music.’

      ‘Much as I’d like to think that it was my playing that moved you to tears, I doubt it.’

      She wanted to hold on to him. It felt so natural to do so. But she shouldn’t. She’d always been a sucker for the quiet type, and the last one she’d got involved with had almost destroyed her life.

      ‘I...I’m СКАЧАТЬ