Liron's Melody (6 page)

Liron grimaced as her voice started to take on that
hysterical, shrill tone once again. “That was Siegfried,” he answered.

She looked up at him, not moving out of his arms.
“Siegfried?”

He nodded. “My falcon. He sleeps down here. We must have
startled him.”

“You have a pet falcon?”

He shrugged. “Not a pet so much as a companion.”

She stared at him for several silent moments before she let
out a shout laden with exasperation. “As if my nerves weren’t shot enough!” she
cried. “This night
sucks
!”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Well, I can’t say that I
find it
completely
deplorable.” He reached his hand up to smooth several
out of control strands of her hair, tucking one of them behind her ear.

Melody met his gaze and drew in a soft breath. Color stained
her cheeks as she grasped his meaning and she looked down shyly, but didn’t
move away from him. In fact, she seemed to curl into him even more, her soft
body molding against his. If he had no other moments in his life, he would have
gladly remained in that one forever, standing in his dreary hallway, holding
her against him, basking in the warmth that surged through him at her nearness.
It was the only warmth he had felt in so very long.

“Are there any other creatures I need to know about?” she
asked. “Bats, birds? Vampires, werewolves, goblins, ghouls, ghosts?”

“No bats or birds,” he replied. “And I made sure the
vampires, werewolves, and all other paranormal creatures were safely locked in
the dungeon, so they should be of no trouble to you.” Her alarmed expression
made him chuckle, which, in turn, caused her to break into a small, shy smile.
He grinned and touched her cheek with his forefinger. “Ah, she smiles.
Finally.”

Her bashful smile grew broader, and she giggled a little.

Liron found the sound of her laughter to be the most
beautiful sound he had ever heard. His gaze focused on her full, luscious lips,
and he lightly ran his finger along the bottom one. “A woman with a mouth like
yours should always smile.”

Her cheeks reddened, and she dipped her head to avoid looking
at him. She let out a long sigh and shook her head. “You must think I’m
completely insane.”

He frowned slightly. “Stop saying that. I have not once
thought that.”

She glanced back up at him, faint surprise mirrored in her
eyes. “You haven’t? But I invaded your house, from a different dimension no less.
I screamed at you. I had a spaz attack, and then I screamed at you some more.”

“Under the circumstances, I believe you had that right,” he
replied. He took in the delicate, soft planes of her face, the gentle curve of
her throat and neck. “And, trust me, your presence here is anything but an
invasion, Melody.” Her gaze locked on his, her eyes full of wonder even though
there were still traces of understandable apprehension. And beyond that,
underneath the emotions brought about by the current situation, he detected a
profound pain and loneliness not unlike his own. It tugged at the deepest roots
of his heart, and he was swamped by the most overwhelming urge to hold her,
protect her, show her the gentleness and compassion he himself had been denied
for so long. It was wrong that someone else should have to endure the emptiness
that he had. Especially someone as lovely as her.

Tearing his eyes away from hers, he forced his thoughts back
to the task at hand. Staring at her like that would no doubt do nothing to make
her feel any more at ease. “Shall we continue?” he queried. Then, unable to
help himself, said, “Unless you want to stand here in the stairwell clutching
onto me all night, which I admit, I am not completely opposed to.”

“Oh.” The word came out in a rushed breath, and she pushed
away from him with another attractive blush.

He smiled and held his hand out to her. “Come. I will lead
you.”

She looked relieved and put her hand in his with no
hesitation. He tried not to notice the warmth and softness of her fingers as he
continued down the stairs and then the hall to his bedroom, but he lost that
battle. He tried to remember if there had ever been a time when Elizabeth had
held his hand, but he couldn’t recall one. He’d never thought something so simple
could be so wonderful.

He opened the door to his bedroom and pulled her inside. He
lit several candles, as it was completely dark, and got a shirt out from his
wardrobe. “I imagine this will be a bit large for you, but it’s all I have,” he
said as he handed the clothing to her. “There hasn’t been a woman here in a
very long time.”

Melody took the shirt from him and clutched it to her chest.
“It’s fine, thank you. I’m not picky.”

He smiled and gave her a small nod. “I will leave you to
change.” He pivoted on his heel.

“Wait!”

Her cry stopped him in his tracks, and he turned back to face
her. The concern on her face twisted his heart.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right outside the door,” he assured her. “I will
wait for you there. Then we’ll go back upstairs and talk by the fire where it
is warm and comfortable.”

She seemed placated by that information and nodded. She
looked down at the shirt she held and absently smoothed the fabric with her
fingers. “Liron?”

He took a couple steps toward her, aching to hold her in his
arms until she stopped looking so lost and frightened. “What is it, Melody?”

“Thank you for everything, for being so patient. My mind is
still spinning. You have been so kind and understanding.”

He smiled softly and reached for one of her hands. He bowed
over it and kissed her fingertips. “It’s my pleasure. Now, change your shirt.
I’ll be right outside.” He strode from the room before he actually made good on
his desire to take her in his arms. He was sure that would not put her at ease,
even though it would be coming from a good place in his heart. She had trusted
him so implicitly. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. He wanted
to talk with her, learn about her, find out what strange connection she had to
him and his music. He didn’t want to alarm her by being bold.

But as he closed his bedroom door and leaned back against the
stone wall to wait, the memory of the two times she had been in his arms
already plagued him. In less than an hour’s time, she had thrown his entire existence
off kilter. And he had to watch himself. She was a human, from the human world.
He had no idea how she had ended up in his world, but she wanted to go home.
And he couldn’t blame her for that. But he would be a stupid idiot of a man if
he allowed his attraction for her to root itself into his heart. Once she went
back home, that would be the end of it.

He had no pieces of his heart left for anyone else to rip out.
He had to guard what remained of it carefully.

Chapter Six

Melody smoothed her trembling fingers down the silky length
of the black shirt after she had buttoned it up. It was long and slightly
baggy, but not horribly oversized. Now that she was alone in the room, she took
a moment to try to gather her wits so she wouldn’t keep shouting at Liron like
some kind of freak of nature.

She took a look around the room, which was cast in the sultry
amber light of the candles. Whatever world she was in was messing with her
brain. Liron lived in a castle with no electric light that she was aware of,
but he wore modern-looking clothing. He had a pet falcon and tapestries adorned
his bedroom walls, but upon closer inspection of the room, she found a bathroom
with a real toilet and a tub. It was like she’d gone back in time, but not.
Weird.

She wandered around the room, trying to see if it gave away
any clues about the man who lived there. The tapestries were the only real
decorations, but he didn’t need anything beyond them. They were beautiful and
rich in color. One of them depicted several women dancing with flowers in their
hair in lovely, flowing dresses. The other one was a menagerie of musical
instruments amidst red rose petals.

His bed was colossal, something she would expect to see in a
decorating magazine. It was a four-poster made of dark wood carved with
intricate designs. As she studied them, she could see that even they were based
on music. Clef symbols, measures, bars, and notes swirled around the spires as
if music had been composed and written directly into the wood. She ran her
fingers over it and sighed. So much for distracting herself with things that
didn’t have to do with music. She was surrounded by it, even had a man waiting
outside who filled her head with it when he touched her.

That should have freaked her out, but it didn’t. In fact, it
did quite the opposite. Every time Liron touched her, she felt calmed, soothed,
safe. It was completely bizarre. But even in the hallway after Siegfried had
scared the ever-loving crap out of her and she’d crashed into Liron, she’d had
no desire to move away from him. She had no idea what that meant. She wasn’t
sure if she cared at this point.

She left the bed and went to the window. It was stained
glass, full of reds, blues, and greens. The design was nothing specific, just a
beautiful pattern that added a finishing touch to an already beautiful room. A
little bit Gothic, a little bit medieval, but with indoor plumbing. She could
work with that.

A soft knock on the door sounded and brought her out of her
thoughts. She turned to look over her shoulder.

“Melody, are you all right?”

She smiled at his concern. The poor man probably thought she
was in the corner sucking her thumb. “I’m fine,” she called.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes, I’m changed.”

The heavy door swung open and Liron entered. His eyes swept
over her as if assessing her state of mind. “Something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, I was just admiring your window.”

He glanced at it and smiled. “Oh. It opens.” He strode toward
her and reached up to pull a latch at the top, then pushed the glass outward.

Melody was instantly blasted by fog and salty ocean air. The
crashing of waves below drew her attention, and she peered down to see jagged
cliffs and churning black water. “Oh my goodness,” she breathed. “You have
quite the view.”

His smile grew and he leaned against the doorframe. “Nature’s
most powerful symphony. It’s my lullaby.”

She glanced up at him, captivated by his words. He closed his
eyes and inhaled deeply as the sea breeze drifted over them and tossed a strand
of his dark hair. The firelight from inside mixed with the silvery sheen of the
full moon and played upon his face in the most amazing way, highlighting the
prominent lines and shadowing contours. He was wickedly, brutally handsome, and
when he turned his blue-eyed gaze to her, she lost her breath.

“Your music, that piece that brought me here somehow….” She
shook her head. “It was so beautiful. I’ve never heard anything like it before.
Not in all the classical pieces that I’ve played.”

Darkness clouded his features and he averted his gaze. “I’ve
never written anything since that.” It was a soft admission, the words tinged
with pain.

She stared at him, at the way the ocean breeze continued to
tug at his hair, at the muscle that worked along his defined jaw, at the sorrow
etched into his face. She wanted to touch him so badly, soothe him when she
didn’t even know what was causing the misery. “You haven’t written anything?”
she murmured.

He shook his head. “Hurt too much.”

They were three words. Three very simple words that told her
nothing and everything. It was a truth she understood all too well. It didn’t
matter that she still didn’t quite know what he was or what was going on. It
didn’t matter that she was unaware of what had caused him such profound pain.
The only thing that mattered was that, in the simple acknowledgement of deep
heartbreak, they were the same. Through a piece of music he had written in his
pain and she had played in hers. It made no sense at all that she could be
transported to an alternate dimension and, yet, it made all the sense in the
world.

She reached for his hand and gently took it between both of
hers. She trailed her fingers across his wrist, then smiled up at him. “I don’t
imagine my touch has the same effect as yours.”

A brilliant grin lit up his face, chasing away the sadness
that had been there a moment before. He brought her fingers to his perfect
mouth and pressed his lips to them. “Melody, there is no music I could ever
compose that would express the effect of that one kind touch.”

Melody’s cheeks burned and she bit her bottom lip in a
girlish gesture she hadn’t done since high school. And if he continued to
lavish kisses upon her hands the way he had been doing all night, she was going
to lose her mind. They were so gentlemanly and chaste, yet they brought forth
some kind of dormant inferno in her blood.

For a moment, the dismal look in his eyes was gone and his
smile was soft. “Come with me. We will sit and discuss things.” He reached up
to close the window and led her out of the room and back up the staircase.

Melody didn’t find the passageway nearly as disconcerting as
she had before and she found herself taking in more of her surroundings,
exploring with curiosity instead of wanting to run and hide.

Liron’s home, despite the Gothic dreariness brought about by
the candle and torchlight and the stone walls and floors, exuded warmth and
classic elegance. It could have very easily felt like a dungeon, but it didn’t.
It felt more like she was walking in some kind of medieval work of art. Not surprisingly,
it looked the way his music had sounded.

Once back in the main room, Liron indicated one of two large,
black leather chairs that sat on an intricate Persian rug in front of the
fireplace. “Can I get you anything?” he asked. “Tea? Coffee? Another glass of
wine?” A teasing smile lifted his lips. “A shot of whiskey?”