It was a soft song, delicate, lovely, beautiful. The sound drifted over her like the light touch of a feather, like the gentle shift of Gabriel’s fingers through her hair, like the kisses he dropped on the corners of her mouth.

Sara lay still and listened, letting it wrap around her, knowing what it must mean to him to have music back in his life, his soul. When she couldn’t stay away any longer, when the need to see him, touch him, surpassed her desire to give him privacy, she climbed out of bed and got one of his T-shirts out of the drawer and pulled it on. Her panties were still in the living room, left behind when Gabriel had dragged her to bed for round two.

Knowing she was smiling, knowing she was embarrassingly in love, she walked into the living room. And was devastated by him all over again. He was gorgeous. Unbelievably so. Gabriel was sitting at the piano shirtless, his jeans low on his hips, his feet bare. His hair slid over his shoulders and his eyes were closed as he played. She shifted so she could see his fingers, watch them trail over the keys, long and powerful and talented, confident in their movements.

It was mesmerizing, the way he coaxed such a beauty of sound from the piano, and she knew she could watch him for a lifetime.

But he sensed her presence and opened his eyes. Gabriel smiled at her, his hair falling forward as he kept playing. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. The song is beautiful.”

“It’s your song.”

“My song?” She didn’t recognize it, but then she wasn’t at all familiar with classical music. Whatever it was, she liked it.

“Yep. I wrote it for you.”

Sara stared at him as he kept playing, his mastery effortless, his focus on her instead of his fingers. “What? What do you mean?” Surely he wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying.

“I mean I wrote it. It’s your song. It’s how I hear you.”

Oh, God. Sara sucked in a shaky breath, overwhelmed with love, with joy, with gratitude. “It’s lovely,” she whispered.

“Like you.”

Sara buried her eyes behind her hand, feeling the tears demanding release. Sniffling, she let them trail down each cheek. “I’m glad to see that losing your immortality didn’t take away your talent. It’s incomparable.”

His smile was satisfied. “It’s a gift. As are you.”

Sara went over to him, needing to touch him, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. She leaned over and kissed him, a lingering embrace that had her sighing. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, sliding his hand under the T-shirt to cup her bare backside. “Now let’s go get some coffee.”

Sara laughed. He was as random as always. “Okay. Let me put pants on.”

“Probably a good idea.”