Loving Your Lies (21 page)

And then the piece ended, the final chords
ebbing into silence. Hands clasped in my lap, I waited for him to
turn to me.

“How did you know…” I uttered in a confused
whisper. “This song. How did you know it’s special to me?”

He sighed. “How could I not know when I
heard you hum it all day yesterday in the field?” He tucked a stray
wisp of hair behind my ear and brushed his fingertips across my
cheek before he dropped his hand again. A sensuous shiver shook me,
and I picked up my former thought once more.

An awkward silence fell between us. With my
throat too dry, I had to swallow twice to find my voice again.

“What’s it called?” I asked.

Julian smiled to himself as if this was a
joke only he would understand. Next moment, his hand covered mine,
and his warmth seeped into me. “It’s called
Hallelujah
.”

Hallelujah
. The song had a name.

And what an irony of the title compared with
my dreary life. It irritated me no end that my hand wouldn’t stop
shaking under his. And to make matters worse, my breathing had
noticeably picked up speed.

I couldn’t allow him to see how nervous he
really made me, so I cleared my throat something forceful and said,
“Can you play it again?”

He wouldn’t take his hand from mine. Not
before he smoothed his thumb over my knuckles. Then he nodded and
flipped to page one to read his way through the song once more.

My gaze switched back and forth between his
concentrating face and his skilled fingers while he was performing
this wonderful music for me. At his gentle shove I turned the
pages, but eventually, I leaned my head on his shoulder and closed
my eyes, soaking in the soothing sounds. Certain that his dancing
fingers never stopped and turned the pages, I wondered how he could
have learned this piece by heart so fast. But not enough to ask, or
even open my eyes.

When the song came to an end again, the
final note lingering in the room, I didn’t move. Neither did he.
Only his head turned slightly, his check brushing my hair, and I
felt his tender gaze searching my face.

“Again, please,” I whispered, and without a
comment Julian agreed. His steady, masculine shoulder told me I
wasn’t unwelcome, because if he had shoved me the tiniest bit, I
would have backed away instantly.

He let me rest against him and listen for
what felt like hours. Each time the song ended, it took only a
little nudge of my arm for him to play the beautiful melody
again.

And again.

All night long.

15

THE ALMOST KISS

I OPENED MY eyes in my private castle the
next day. The soft melody of
Hallelujah
still played through
my mind. As they had every morning, the chirping of birds and a
warm sun greeted me through my opened windows. Tucking the blanket
up to my ears, I buried my cheek deeper into the soft pillow and
reveled in the previous evening.

I lost count of how many times Julian had
played my special song, or how many others he’d coaxed from the
ivory keys on the piano. He must have played for hours. Just
because I had asked him to.

Sometime after eleven, we’d finally ascended
to our rooms and he’d bid me goodnight with a nudge of his knuckles
to my chin.

Even though the story remained unclear, I
knew Julian had entered my dreams again last night.

A sigh lifted my chest. I rolled on my back
and put my arms behind my head. Soft light danced on the ceiling,
reflecting off the opened window above my bed. Julian’s confessing
words to my mother filled me with joy. Of course, his foremost duty
was to her, his charge, but he’d named me a close second. He would
never find out how much that meant to me.

It was new that someone awoke this kind of
feeling in me. My protective walls threatened to tumble. I could do
nothing to stop the once so solid defense from crumbling before
Julian.

The idea to stay a bit longer played in my
head.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my face. These
thoughts were too weird and dangerous. However long I remained in
this place, eventually the moment of parting would come. And I
couldn’t allow anyone, be it Aunt Marie, or Julian, to break
through my circle of defense.

But just like this house and the vineyards,
Julian grew on me.

My attention fell on his gray hoodie hanging
over the backrest of my swivel chair, and I swung my legs out of
bed. My bare feet made no sound on the cold parquet as I ambled
over to get it. The smell of warm, wild wind still clung to the
fabric and wrapped me into a cloud of ocean breeze. Just how could
any man smell this good?

No detergent or shower gel could bring on
that irresistible scent. It seemed strangely natural, rolling off
his very body and tinting everything in his vicinity with this
sweet fragrance.

I slid my arms through the sleeves. Nearly
three sizes too big, the hem of the hoodie hugged my thighs. The
cuffs clasped in my palms, I brought my hands to my nose to get an
extra shot of
Julian
.

At the same instant, footfalls on the
balcony boards drifted into my room. Panic struck fast when I felt
caught at reveling in his smell. I quickly locked my hands behind
my back, presenting my most innocent grin, as a knock sounded on
the glass of the open door and Julian shoved his head in through
the curtains.

“Hi,” I blurted, feeling how my face turned
red like a strawberry.

“Good morning.” He swept the curtains aside
and stepped into my room. On a small tray in his left hand, he
balanced two steaming cups and toast with jam on a plate.

“You missed breakfast again. Since we
skipped dinner last night, I thought you might be hungry. I saved
this for you.” He whisked the tray in front of my face.

The smell of hot chocolate drifting to my
nose set my stomach on a rumble. But Julian withdrew the small
breakfast and retreated to the balcony before I could make a grab
for the cup. “I thought we could eat out here today.”

Oh, you snake.
Apparently, he didn’t
grow tired of helping me get past my fear of heights.

“We?” I stopped by the door, watching him
with hunger for both the man and the food, as he set the plate down
on the railing. “I thought you normally don’t eat breakfast.”

“For you I’ll make an exception.” He picked
up the hot chocolate and held it out to me, but from too far away
for me to grab it.

“Know what?” I murmured. “I’m not hungry.
I’ll just wait until lunch. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. It can’t be
too long until noon.”

Twisting his wrist, Julian glanced at his
watch. “It’s nine thirty. Quite a while to go,” he mocked.
“Wouldn’t a cup of sweet chocolate be nice now? And just look, I’ve
brought you toast.”

Yeah. And as if my stomach took sides with
Julian it chimed another annoying rumble. My frown ought to tell
him he could shove the toast up his arse. Just because we spent
this beautiful evening together, it didn’t make him my personal
trainer in
causa vertigo
. I pivoted and headed for the
bathroom.

“Jona?”

I turned around.

Julian’s arched eyebrow weakened my stance.
“You still have my hoodie.”

Don’t even think about getting it back,
buddy. This is mine. I might not have told you so yet, but that’s a
fact.

I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked.
“So?”

“So?” He repeated with a disbelieving laugh.
His sweet tone matched his look. “I’d say if you want to keep it
you owe me.”

He was willing to trade? That could be an
interesting deal. “What do you want?”

Cup raised, he waggled his brows. “I want
you to have breakfast with me.”

“Okay, bring the food in and we can eat on
my bed.” My victorious grin said it all.

“Outside.” This time it was as though his
eyes spoke the word, and with a lustful growl. How could a girl
ever resist him?

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Arms raised, I
stomped forward. “So gimme the bloody cup.” All my strength was
necessary to control the rising fear as I stepped out into the warm
daylight. Panic gripped me harder with each stride. For a
millisecond, an equally shocked expression flashed across Julian’s
face. There was barely time for him to shift the cup out of the way
before I collided with him. His strong arm wrapped securely around
my waist. A whine escaped me as I shut my eyes and buried my face
in his shoulder where I hoped my deep breaths would steady my
shaking nerves.

Julian’s abs flexed against my body when he
chuckled low. “Easy there, love.”

In the next instant, he stiffened. We both
did as his words sank in.

Aware of every inch of his body pressing
against mine, a joyful song started to play in my mind and I tilted
my head to meet his gaze. The tips of our noses almost touched when
he dipped his head. I expected my heart to speed up. Instead it
stopped beating all together.

His firm hold around me loosened. His hand
came up slowly to shape against the side of my neck and face. His
thumb brushed my cheekbone. Between his slow blinks, I stared into
the deep blue of his warm eyes.

The balcony, the house, the entire world
around me melted away. At this moment, I could have stood on top of
the Eifel tower and would have felt utterly protected by Julian’s
embrace.

Heat seared me from the inside. My fingers
trembled as they clenched the collar of his orange shirt. I forced
my hands to uncurl and lay flat against his chest so as not to tear
off his top button. When his face inched closer, I licked my lips.
My breaths erupted like the puffs of a steam train.

I wanted to taste him. Feel the sensual bow
of his lips. Trace it with my tongue. But the very instant they
brushed against my bottom lip, he tensed and pulled away. A cold
spot remained on my cheek when his hand dropped.

A dry cough made his throat twitch. He
handed me the cup. “You better drink your hot chocolate while it’s
still warm.”

The stern note in his voice dragged me back
to reality. I double blinked. Grief caught me in a stranglehold
when I saw the regret in his eyes.

Kiss. Fantastic idea.

What got into me to let my control slip so
badly? I took the cup from him, retreated to the wall, and sank to
the floor. Sips of the hot drink warmed my stomach. But they could
do nothing about the cold in my heart.

Julian stood rooted and studied me. Cursing
the moment I bounced into his arms? I would swear he’d felt the
same sparkle between us when he’d leaned down to kiss me.

Warming my fingers on the hot chocolate, I
balanced the cup on my knees. The black smiley on the green mug
presented a friendlier face than Julian.

“What changed your mind?” I croaked. “Didn’t
you say you were going to make an exception for me?”

“What?” In an awfully sweet manner his brows
knitted together, and he stared at me, lost like a child in first
grade who had no idea what the teacher wanted from him. Probably
the very same look I gave him so often.

“Breakfast.” Forcing a grin, I raised my
cup. “You’re supposed to sit down with me and eat.”

Whatever had been on his mind before rushed
from his face as he blinked slowly. Placing the plate with the
delicious smelling toast between us, he lowered, too, and took a
sip from his cup. Two of the slices covered with raspberry jam
helped swallow my disappointment. Julian had none. Didn’t mean he
didn’t look disappointed.

Neither of us spoke, and when I finished my
drink, he grabbed the cup together with the plate and carried the
tray to his room.

He didn’t return.

Letting out the sigh that had tightened my
chest during the previous ten minutes, I crawled into my room and
jumped into the shower. It was time to wash off the confusion and
drown my longing for this guy in the spray of water. After all, I
should be happy we didn’t kiss all the way. It would have
complicated my situation enormously.

The progressing Sunday made it clear that
Julian evaded my presence. While I helped Marie prepare a pasta
meal for lunch, he accompanied my uncle to the vinery. And when I
joined them in the early afternoon simply because I was bored and
would have loved to use Albert’s dirt scanner some more, Julian
excused himself and returned to the house.

Small needles of regret jabbed me in the
chest and with every hour that separated us, the empty pit in my
stomach grew. The needles had turned to lances by the time I went
to bed, because this was also the first evening he didn’t say
goodnight.

On the plus side, my mother kept out of my
way, too. Neither did she stalk me, nor talk to me during the
remainder of the weekend.

The next couple of days, I gave my best in
the vinery. But without Julian’s company, the work wasn’t even half
as much fun. Chats with Valentine were my highlights.

They started on Tuesday afternoon. Together
with Marie we knelt in the dirt and pulled weeds. Valentine rattled
on in French for hours while my aunt replied with a few words every
now and then. Apparently, the teapot shaped chatterbox missed it
when Marie rose from the ground and patted the dirt off her
trousers then went back to the house to make us all a snack.

Helplessly, I stared after my aunt while
Valentine continued her French monologue. It took her almost five
minutes to realize no one answered her. Confused, she glanced to
all sides. Her gaze focused on me. The grin of a happy farmer
curved her mouth.

Very much to my surprise, she returned to
her task and continued rambling. Just to make her happy, and maybe
because I had no one else to talk to, I filled her brief gaps with
ahs
and
ohs
. Sometimes I would even ask, “Is that
so?” or “Really?” But she understood me as little as I understood
her.