Chapter 93

Hannah stood frozen, unable to speak or move. A piano! A beautiful new piano that Riley had bought just for her. When she could move, she walked across the room and ran her fingers over the polished ivory keyboard. The joyous sound of her music filled the room. She continued playing while she scooted out the bench with her foot and sat down.

She proceeded with every Christmas song she could recall from memory, filling the house with music the way it did her heart and mind. When she finished, she laid her hands in her lap and exhaled a deep sigh.

Turning around, she found Riley leaning his shoulder against the wall, his powerful arms crossed over his chest, studying her.

"How… when?" She couldn't seem to ask a coherent question.

"I take it you're asking about the piano?"

She nodded, knowing she'd only make a mess of it if she were to try to explain. Her heart was full, bubbling over with love and excitement. Not once had she suspected. He'd been so closemouthed about it.

"After hearing you sing and play in church, I decided we needed a piano," Riley explained in that relaxed way of his, as if they were discussing a minor purchase.

"But…"

"There are no buts about it. You're too talented not to have one. You enjoy it. The way I figure, you can sing Sam to sleep."

"Oh, Riley, I can't believe you." She could think of no way to thank him. Nothing she could do or say would ever be enough. She walked over to him and kissed him the way that had been their habit of late, brushing her lips over his. Lightly. Briefly. First on his cheek, then his lips. But the all-too-hasty contact left her feeling empty and wanting. Standing on the tips of her toes, she leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Kissing him long and hard on the lips, she opened to him, introducing her tongue into his mouth until she created a warm, wet, gentle demand.

Riley held himself stiff against her, then groaned from deep within his throat. He sounded like a man absorbed in pain, and Hannah wondered if she'd done anything to hurt him.

With another groan he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her effortlessly from the floor so that her face was level with his own. Their gazes met for an instant before he directed her mouth to his. She'd been the aggressor, but that changed abruptly as he took control.

His tongue circled hers as his lips nibbled at her own. Riley was experienced in the ways of love; Hannah had known that from the first night they'd met. She'd responded to that experience, helpless to refuse him anything. To refuse herself. He seemed to need some kind of response from her, something more, she realized; otherwise he wouldn't be holding himself in check the way he was.