Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Once more I was surprised how good it felt to move my fingers over the keys, eliciting beautiful sound from the baby grand. For so long I’d thought it would be painful, bring up unwanted nostalgia, but all it did was remind me that I could do anything if I put my mind to it.
“We need to talk.” Murray’s deep bark startled me, my fingers scattering across keys with the jolt.
I hadn’t heard him come in over the music.
Now he stood in the doorway, lips pinched, brows pulled together.
That was one unhappy hot fisherman. My pulse skittered with concern. “What is it?”
“Where’s Kelly?”
“In her room.”
“Follow me.” He abruptly turned and walked out.
Confused, anxious, because his demeanor was so unlike him, I pushed back from the piano and hurried after him. Murray was already taking the stairs downward two at a time.
“I have food in the oven.”
“This is important.”
To my surprise, he led me into his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind us. I tried not to gape, but I’d been curious about his room since I moved in.
It was huge with lots of floor-to-ceiling glass … and a bathtub in the corner of the room framed by wraparound windows. I could see a door leading to a separate en suite, so the bathtub was an interior design statement. My cheeks felt hot at the thought of Murray lingering in that tub. You wouldn’t need to worry about strangers seeing you naked, but anyone else in the house would need forewarning not to venture onto the yard facing the water in case they got an eyeful of Murray Shaw.
Not sure I’d take heed of the forewarning, to be honest.
His room lacked personality compared to Kelly’s. There was a super king bed with navy sheets. The bed was made. The built-in closets on the wall opposite the windows hid all his clothes. There were no throw cushions or art or photographs.
There wasn’t even a cozy armchair or a reading nook, and the space could take it.
The view out to the water distracted me until Murray brushed past me. He stopped in the middle of the room, hands on his hips, brow furrowed.
“What is it?” I repeated.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Nick’s latest threats?”
Surprise and dismay mingled at his unexpected question. “How …”
“Ramsay told me.” Something flickered in Murray’s beautiful eyes, and I realized what it was when he asked, “Why did you go to Ramsay and not me?”
Hurt.
I’d hurt his feelings.
After he’d done more than he’d ever know by sending me that song this morning, I hated the idea of hurting him. I had to make him understand. I bridged the distance between us. “Murray, I was only trying to save you from more stress. You have so much going on with Kelly and Jill, and I know there’s something stressing you at work too. I didn’t want to add to that.”
Murray took a step toward me, closing the distance entirely. When he bent his head to mine, I sucked in a breath because we were so close our noses almost touched. He smelled of a heady mix of his woodsy cologne and the salt air of the sea. There were specks of yellow gold in his eyes; it was what made his mossy green irises so compelling. Or was it the warmth in them, even when he was disappointed with me?
“I have very broad shoulders, London. I can handle it. I want …” He searched my face almost frantically. “I need you to know you can trust me.”
Without thinking, I reached for him, my palms resting on his hard chest. “I do trust you. I don’t want you to think my going to Ramsay was a slight. I was just trying to protect you and Kelly. It wasn’t … it’s not that I don’t think you can handle it. I would never … especially after this morning. That song you sent …” Tears stung my nose. “It means more than you’ll ever know. I needed to hear your message more than I’ve ever needed to hear anything.”
Murray’s gaze dipped to my lips as he covered my hands with his, curling his fingers around mine. “Good.” The one-word response was gruff.
My belly flipped as the tension tightened between us like a coiled spring, his gaze never wavering from my mouth. Excitement heated my blood because it was the first time Murray had ever overtly shown attraction for me.
Pulse throbbing in my ears and neck, I lost all rational thought, thinking only of his lips. On mine. My skin burned hot, the tension connected by a thread to the throbbing place between my legs. It tugged and tugged on it until I couldn’t quite catch my breath and all I could imagine was that the solution to my problem laid within Murray Shaw’s kiss. Pushing up onto my tiptoes, my lips had barely brushed his when the door to his room crashed open.