The thought broke her heart, and she blinked back tears thinking of the hard man he’d become, borne from a little boy who’d had too little softness in his life.
Too little love.
That wouldn’t be true for the baby growing inside her. Kira didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl, she would make sure it felt loved, would bring Lyon back to life in this house that would be filled with music and laughter and home-baked cookies.
She was moving into the final bars when arms came around her from behind.
She jumped, her fingers clanging on the keys, and twisted her head to find Jean-Luc, standing behind her, his hands joining hers on the keys.
“It’s my favorite,” he murmured near her ear.
She froze, her brain short-circuiting as it tried to process that Jean-Luc was pressed up against her back, that his arms were around her.
“I knew you’d be a lovely player. Your fingers were made for the piano,” he said.
She was still grasping for a way to extricate herself when he stopped playing and stepped away.
Her heart was beating fast, her skin flushed.
Except it wasn’t desire she felt but fear and shame.
She was alone in the house with Jean-Luc. Rurik was out on the porch, probably with his feet on the railing. He would come if Kira called, but she was suddenly unsure about the nature of what had just happened.
Maybe she’d read too much into Jean-Luc’s gesture, his position behind her. They were both musicians after all, with a shared love of the piano, and she knew he’d been a teacher for many years at the end of his own classical career.
Perhaps he’d unknowingly crossed the boundaries of their friendship in his eagerness to demonstrate his own love for the piece she’d been playing.
She slid away from the piano and stepped away back, putting distance between them.
“I wasn’t expecting you.” It felt like the wrong thing to say, but they were the words that tumbled out of her mouth as she tried to gather her wits.
He held her gaze and smiled. “I came to check on the music room.”
She swallowed and nodded. “Everything’s finished. The walls were closed up today.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Do you want me to…?” They’d spent hours together over the past few weeks, and she’d always enjoyed his company, but she suddenly didn’t want to take him to the music room, didn’t want to be alone with him a second longer.
He shook his head. “It’s alright. I see you’re on your way out. I’ll have to come back when the piano is in place anyway.”
She nodded. She was thinking of Lyon, of his face if he ever saw Jean-Luc — or any man — touching Kira the way Jean-Luc had when he’d stood behind Kira at the piano.
A shiver of fear ran up her spine.
“When do you plan to move it?” Jean-Luc asked.
“Excuse me?” Kira was short of breath thinking of her husband and what he would do to the man standing across from her.
“The piano,” Jean-Luc said. “When do you plan to move it to the music room?”
“Next week,” Kira said. “After the floors are finished and the rugs are installed.”
He nodded. “I’ll send someone to do it then.”
“Oh, that’s not nec — ”
He held up a hand to stop her. “I insist. It’s such a fine instrument. It will be too easily damaged by careless hands. I know the perfect company to move it. They work with the Orchestra.”
She swallowed her protest and nodded. The Chicago Symphony Orchestra was the finest classical concert hall in the state, and she didn’t have the energy to fight Jean-Luc on the offer.
She just wanted to get away from him.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome.” He lingered near the doorway. “See you soon.”
She watched him go, waiting a good five minutes to make sure he was gone. Then she locked up and hurried outside, strangely happy to see Rurik waiting for her on the porch.