“Oh. Thank you.” Her face still felt overly warm. “I had a lot of hours on my own growing up. The violin was just something that I could do—”

He closed the distance between them. “Take it.”

“What?”

“The violin. Take it. It’s yours.”

“No. I couldn’t possibly—”

“Please. That instrument deserves to be played. Deserves to be heard. It does not deserve to be hidden up here. It deserves an audience.”

Lia blinked at him. Gabriel was standing close enough that she could see the flecks of indigo in his irises and smell the faint scent of his soap that still clung to his skin. Her eyes searched his face, coming to rest on the curve of his lips.

“I’d like to kiss you,” he whispered. “May I?”

Wordlessly, Lia nodded, certain that he could hear the pounding of her heart against her ribs.

Slowly, Gabriel lifted his hand and brushed away a lock of her hair that had fallen over her forehead while she played. His fingers drifted along the side of her face to settle gently around the nape of her neck. Electricity danced and crackled under his touch. His other hand slid over her bare shoulder, the warmth of his palm setting her skin on fire.

And then he bent his head and kissed her.

It was a soft kiss, his lips exploring hers unhurriedly and thoroughly, allowing her the space and time to pull away if that was what she wished. She had no such wish. Instead, she leaned into him and deepened the kiss. His hand slid around to her lower back, pulling her against him.

Lia lost track of time, lost track of where she was, lost track of everything save for the feel of this man against her. After minutes or maybe hours, he pulled back, his forehead resting against hers.

“You are extraordinary,” he said.

Lia was trying to catch her breath. She lifted her head and gazed up at him. “That was…” She trailed off, words a herculean task that was seemingly beyond her at the moment.

“Yes,” he agreed. He let his hand slip from her neck and stepped back.

Lia did the same, afraid that she’d give in to the urge to kiss him again if she remained where she was. Instead, she busied herself properly restoring the violin to its case.

“Just because I kissed you does not mean I’m taking your violin.” She tried to make her voice light and breezy as if she could pretend her pulse wasn’t still hammering out of control.

“Even though I insist?” He hooked his thumbs into his pockets, a smile playing over those very kissable lips.

“I’ll think about it.” She’d be thinking about a lot of things. Violins not being one of them.

“Good.” He glanced down, and his movements stilled. “Huh. This might be something.”

“What?”