“No. Christ, no. Who would I be without music?”
He didn’t expect her to sigh and set aside the glass of water she still held for him. She curled up against his side and laid her head on his chest. The weight of her was a relief, as was burying his fingers in the soft sweetness of her hair.
“You’d be the man I love,” she said softly. “Trappings aren’t what makes you who you are. The fame and money don’t matter. But that love for music, that passion that is at the core of you, only intensifies the rest.”
He shut his eyes when they burned. “Thank God for you.” He fisted his hand in her hair. “Thank fucking God.”
She slipped her hand under his shirt and lifted her brows as he exhaled. “He’s a sucker-puncher like you, huh?” She peeled up the material and inhaled sharply at the bruises that had to be blooming on his skin. “A rib-kicker also. Wasn’t that your signature move?”
“He has far too many of my moves, but he punched my ribs, didn’t kick them.”
“Nice to know.”
“Do you have any idea what it’s like to see a stranger with your face? Your voice? To know that someone else was made out of the same fucking DNA, and they’ve been walking around all these years and you had no idea?” He jerked away and threw his legs over the opposite side of the bed, then shoved both hands through his hair. “I need a shower.”
She rubbed his back. “Probably a good idea to clean up before Li sees you.”
He let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, we have a show. Perfect timing.” He dragged himself up and turned toward her, extending a hand. “Don’t suppose you’d be interested in sharing some hot water?”
It took her a minute to accept his hand, but she finally crawled across the mattress, tucked her fingers into his palm, and rose with him. “Don’t think this means you’re off the hook.”
“Never.”
“I’m serious.” She pulled him to a halt. “I was really scared. I did
n’t know if I should go after you—if I could even track you down—or leave you alone. I was afraid of what I’d find.”
“I understand that. I just didn’t even think, Violin Girl, or consider what it might seem like. It was as if I was on auto-pilot.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Dumb, thoughtless auto-pilot. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Unless you go on dumb, thoughtless auto-pilot again?”
“Nah, that setting has been factory disabled.” He gave her a light nudge toward the bathroom. “C’mon, before Dragon Lady comes over here and demands to see my condition.”
“I’m sure Nick already told her. Probably gleefully, since you both enjoy bringing each other pain.” She shook her head and squeezed his hand before aiming for the bathroom. “Tell me why I didn’t become a lesbian again?”
“Because of my irresistible charm?” He smiled for her sake when she turned toward him and made a c’mere gesture to beckon him forward. “Maybe a little pity?”
“Second is more likely.” She stripped him quickly and efficiently, stacking clothes on the counter. His shirt had a tear in it. Didn’t even know when that had happened. Fucking fight was a blur like the conversation that had come after.
Just that piece of paper was clear. So damn clear.
“Simon,” Margo said softly, and that single word was his undoing. He dropped his chin to the top of her head as she ran careful hands over him, smoothing away the aches, creating a whole new one in his belly and below with her gentle touch.
She tipped back her head, meeting his eyes. “Is it better or worse that you know? That you saw him in the flesh?”
“It just is. At least now I know.” He smudged his fingertip over her delicate cheekbone before reaching up to undo her hair. It tumbled down around her shoulders, untamed and free. Then he reached for the tie of her robe. He pulled it apart slowly, his breath stuttering at the sight of her as it always did. Didn’t matter how many times he touched her like this. Each one was a revelation.
A gift.
He palmed her breast and rolled his thumb over the tightening tip, gauging from her face what she wanted. Needed. This was about her. If she preferred just a shower, to keep that much space for herself, he would give her that.
Anything she wanted, he would give.
But she rose up on her tiptoes to meet his mouth, kissing him with a heat he hadn’t expected. Before he could lose himself in her, she backed into the shower and turned on the warm water. He followed, already desperate to push her against the tiled wall and sink into her. Just disappear inside her clasping warmth while he gave thanks to the gods that she was his.
She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her generous curves against him, offering him enough softness to combat his jagged, rough edges. His kisses were wild, his hands unsteady. He couldn’t slow down, couldn’t temper his reactions.
She was everything.