Trouble in Nirvana (29 page)

“You make a habit of nicking off without saying goodbye, don’t you?”

The words wouldn’t come now he was here in her room so large and warm and close. All the love she had, stuck in her throat, impossible to articulate.

“Why are you still in Moruya? I thought you couldn’t wait to get back to the city.”

She licked dry lips with an equally dry tongue. “I’m not in a hurry. I...I couldn’t...I went across to the beach this afternoon. I needed to think.”

“What did you think about?” He sat down on the only chair. She moved closer, standing before him like an interviewee hoping her answers were the right ones.

“Me. My life. What to do. Flute is the only thing I can do well. I’d love to be a top flight professional but I’m not good enough to get a fulltime orchestral position. I have to stop kidding myself.”

He shook his head. “I’ve heard you. You’re fantastic.”

Her voice hardened. He didn’t know. He wasn’t a professional musician. “No, I’m not. Believe me, I know. That’s why it’s so stressful for me. Sure, I can make a living as a freelance but I can’t survive that way, I’d have a nervous breakdown or turn into a drunk. I have to accept the fact I’m never going to be as good a player as I want to be. I’ve realised my limitations.” But this wasn’t what she wanted to talk about. Was he really that interested in her professional career?

Perturbed lines furrowed his brow. “I don’t know what to say, Rose.”

“There’s nothing
to
say. It has nothing to do with you. It’s me. Danny and I are very alike in that respect—we both want to do something we’re not very good at.” She laughed softly. “Coming here showed me the reality of beating your head against a brick wall.”

“Danny’s not doing that! He’s getting along all right. Farming is a tough life for anyone. You’ve shown him a few realities too, you know. He’ll do better from now on, I’m sure. Why not go back there, Rose?” His voice was soft and insistent. “You don’t have to leave.” He stood up.

“Danny had a whole lot of people there again. I couldn’t stand it—even after they had that fight about having the place to themselves and agreed.” She shook her head. “I don’t belong there.” Her throat tightened as salty tears clogged her voice. Was he leaving now? Had he come simply to say goodbye face to face?

“Where
do
you belong?” He stepped close and looked down at her. Her body ached to lean into his.

She swallowed again, eyes lowered, unable to meet his gaze, frightened even now, that what she wanted to see wouldn’t be there. “I think I can find something here, get some sort of work organised, rent a flat. I might fit in. Maybe I’ll belong after a while.”

“You don’t need to do any of that, Rose.” His voice was decisive, firm. “You belong with me.”

Hope flared. She looked into his eyes. “But I’m hopeless on a farm.”

He touched her cheek with gentle fingers. “I’m not talking about what you can or can’t do. I’m telling you I need you with me. I can’t give you babies but I can give you love. More than you can imagine or know what to do with.”

A smile tugged at her lips but things had to be said. To be clear. “Tom, I don’t want to be...to be...in your debt. I don’t want you to think I’d move in with you because I have nowhere else to go. That I had any other reason than I want to be with you. Regardless of whether we have babies.”

The fingers pressed against her mouth, stopping the flow of words. “No,” he whispered. “I don’t think that.” The pressure released. “We can have babies. We’ll find a way, somehow.”

One more thing. “And I’m not a very good flute player.”

“I love you. I’ll cope.” He grinned the lopsided grin she loved so much. “You’ll learn about farming if you want to. And you’re the best flute player for miles in any direction, I can guarantee. You’ll find something musical to do. We’ll manage. We’re a good team.”

He bent his head slowly, tantalising, waiting for her to move away, giving her time she didn’t want. She raised her face and his lips landed on hers light as a feather, paused drew back.

“Oh,” she breathed, bereft. Her hand fluttered against his warm chest then dropped to her side. “Tom?” Unsure again. Was he teasing? He’d said he loved her.

“Do you really want to be with me?” he whispered, mouth close to hers. “Regardless?”

No trouble telling him now. “Yes, I do. I love you.” And she completed the distance between them, clung with both arms round his neck, fell into his kiss with all her heart.

This was the right place, this was where she belonged. Nirvana.

A word about the author...

Elisabeth Rose lives in Australia's capital, Canberra. She completed a performance degree on clarinet, travelled Europe with her musician husband, and returned to Canberra to raise two children.

She teaches classes in Tai Chi as well as teaching and playing clarinet. Reading has been a lifelong love, writing romance a more recent delight.

Elizabeth has eight other releases as well as two so far with The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

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