“Earth to Kellen,” Dawn said. “Are you feeling this song at all?”

“If I was honest about what this song does to me,” Kellen said, “you’d toss me back into the storm. Which actually might be for the best.”

“What does it do to you?” she asked.

He leaned back from the keyboard and glanced down at his lap. She followed his gaze and gasped at the very noticeable bulge in his shorts. “Oh!”

He rubbed at his eyebrow. She must think he only had one thing on his mind, which wasn’t far from the truth. “I’ll go.”

She grabbed his thigh before he could climb from the bench. “This song does similar things to me,” she whispered. “I can’t stop thinking about sex.” She stared at him, all beautiful and beguiling, and his c**k jerked. “I can’t stop thinking about sex with you.”

His mouth went dry.

“I’ve never gotten aroused while composing a song,” she said, “so it must be the company.”

Her hand slipped up his thigh, and his belly clenched. If she touched him there, he was going to explode.

“Don’t leave. I need to see where this takes me and I’m afraid if you go, I’ll never finish.”

When she removed her hand and placed it over the keys, he groaned.

“I’m sorry to be selfish,” she said, “but I have to keep going. I’m consumed by the melody now and I don’t want to stop until I’m finished. I hope you understand.”

Kellen understood perfectly. He never stopped until his partner was finished. At least, when he’d actually allowed himself to have partners, it had been that way.

Her fingers flew across the keys, drawing so many positive emotions from Kellen that he could have kissed her in gratitude. The song was a celebration of sensuality, and it had been far too long since he’d celebrated. The enraptured expression on Dawn’s face as she worked through the composition over and over again made him want to drag her to the floor and claim her. Lose himself in her body. He’d already lost himself to her passion.

A flash of lightning illuminated Dawn’s lovely face. An instant later, they were bathed in darkness. The storm seemed to grow louder as the humming appliances and the air conditioning system fell silent.

“I’ll try to find candles,” Dawn said. “I think there are some in the kitchen.”

Kellen reached out to touch her and found the warm skin of her hand resting on her thigh.

“We don’t need light to hear the music,” he said, “or to feel it. Don’t bother.” Plus, he really didn’t mind sitting with her in the dark while the heavens battled outside. He could get as aroused as he liked, and she wouldn’t be able to see it. Too bad the lights hadn’t gone out before he’d revealed his not-so-little secret. Before he’d been so absorbed in the sight of her and the music she created that he’d lost his mind and drawn attention to his painfully hard dick.

Lightning flashed, giving him a quick glimpse of her contemplative expression.

The rain lashed against the windows and wind howled through the rafters. The entire house swayed slightly on its sturdy stilts. Even so, Kellen was so fixated on the woman beside him that the most pronounced sound for him was her breathing.

Dawn turned her hand, still resting on her thigh, until her palm met his and held his hand in a loose grip.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “We don’t need light. Just sound.”

And touch.

Kellen’s thumb stroked her skin. Why did holding her hand feel so intimate? Why did it feel so right?

“Kellen?” she said.

“Yeah?”

“What was her name?”

His heart twisted, and he tugged his hand free of hers. He focused on the rivulets of rainwater flowing down the windowpanes against a background of distant flickers. “Sara,” he said around the lump in his throat. “Her name was Sara.”

“Sorry,” Dawn said. “I shouldn’t have brought her up. It’s just…” She took a deep breath. “If I had a man who loved me even half as much as you obviously still love her, I’d consider myself blessed.”

“I don’t feel blessed.” Damned. That’s how he felt. Damned.

Dawn leaned against his arm, and her free hand slid along his lower back. Kellen held his breath, not wanting to be comforted by her simple gesture, but he was. It felt wonderful to relax against her and allow himself that small bit of feminine contact.

“So why are you single, Dawn O’Reilly?” he asked. “A beautiful, sexy, talented, intelligent, successful woman such as yourself should be taken.”

Her arm tightened around his back, which pulled her closer to his side. She was so warm. Smelled so sweet. He was glad of the darkness so he could experience her on an entirely new level. He’d been overwhelmed with the sight of her before; now his other senses had the opportunity to be dazzled. He leaned closer and detected a hint of honeysuckle on her skin.

“Just busy I guess,” she said. “I haven’t been able to find the right man. Or maybe I was waiting for him to find me.”

Kellen closed his eyes and swallowed. He wasn’t ready to be the right man for her. How did he convey that without hurting her feelings? There was absolutely nothing standing in his way but himself, but he sure as hell wasn’t prepared to clear the road ahead just because this woman had his hormones in an uproar.

“Dawn, I…”

She drew away, and he immediately missed the feel of her hand in his.

“You don’t have to say it. I understand.”

A random note sounded on the piano as her fingers found the keys.

He squeezed her knee.

“I didn’t realize how alone I’ve felt,” she whispered, “with nothing but my music to fill the days and nights. I thought it was enough.”

He knew what that was like. With the exception of Owen, he hadn’t allowed himself to care about anything but music since Sara had passed and if he hadn’t known Owen before meeting her, Kellen wasn’t sure he’d have ever let anyone close again.

“What about your friends?” he asked. “Your family? Don’t you see them?”

“From time to time,” she said. Her hand moved to cover his on her knee, as if she feared he’d move it away. “They have their own lives. I’ve never been a priority to anyone.” She laughed, a dry empty sound. “When I was little, my mother spent a lot of time trying to wring a bit of talent out of me—ballet, gymnastics, art, if they had a class for it, I was in it. When she discovered I had a natural affinity for the piano, she handed me off to the best teachers my daddy’s money could buy and made sure they pushed me. It was almost as if she was relieved that she didn’t have to bother with me anymore. Daddy…” She inhaled a deep breath and pushed on. “Daddy always made appearances at my recitals to show he was proud of my accomplishments, but there just wasn’t any warmth in him. I never felt close to either of them, not the way I imagined other daughters felt about their parents. I thought that the only way I could make them love me was if I was perfect.”