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things that she didn't have the words for, or was too afraid to say.
    At some point, Olivia realized that she had never played that piece better. Her hands were sure on her instrument, and her mind was nearly blank. It seemed to flow out of her, and when it was over, she transitioned to another piece with ease. She existed in a place where all she wanted was to play music for this man, and it was a place that made her feel safe and grounded and peaceful all at once.
    When she finally set down her violin, Olivia was startled to see that almost half an hour had passed. It had grown dark while she was playing, and now she and Makeen sat in deep shadow. She couldn't read his expression in the dimness. She sat silently and tensely, waiting for his response.
    “Set your violin aside. Come here.”
    Hesitantly, she laid her violin back in its case and picked her way carefully to the couch. After a moment of hesitation, she sat down next to him, but she was only there for a moment as his arms went around her, and Makeen pulled her halfway onto his lap.
    The kiss he gave her was unlike the one that they had shared before. Instead of being fiery and consuming, there was something terribly deliberate about. He kissed her as if they had known each other for years—as though this was what they had always done together.
    Olivia might have wanted to keep herself separate from the kiss, but she found that she couldn't. Instead, she felt herself sinking into it, letting the deep warmth of his body suffuse her own. It felt as if there was a deep river of heat and desire in her that he could tap when he wished to do so, and she was helpless to resist it.
    When she felt his hands move to her waist, sliding up under the loose hem of her T-shirt, she gasped a little. For a moment, she went stiff, and then she melted into him as if she was wax in the sun. She felt soft and open, receptive in a way that she barely understood. She shivered as she felt his hands roaming the skin of her back, raising goose bumps wherever he touched her.
    His mouth moved from her lips down to the sensitive skin of her neck, and without thinking of what she was doing, Olivia bared her neck to him, aware of the exquisite vulnerability of her position. When she felt the white sharpness of his teeth against her throat, a shiver ran through her body, but she couldn't move to protect herself; she didn't want to. She wanted to bare all of herself to this man, whether it was wise or foolish. She wanted more, and right then, she would have offered it all to him.
    It was Makeen who pulled back. Suddenly, he pulled his head away, and with a gentle motion, he pushed her back on the couch even as he stepped away.
    “Thank you for the performance,” he said, his voice slightly uneven. “That will be all for tonight.”
    For a moment, Olivia sat on the couch, staring at his back and hardly able to believe what he had just said. Then his words penetrated her mind and she gaped at being spoken to as if she were a member of his household staff, someone who was paid to come in and clean his house or see to his business affairs. Her cheeks flaming, she stood up straight, stepping back to grab her violin case.
    “You're very welcome, sir,” she said, her voice almost syrup sweet. “Thank you for the honor of allowing me to entertain you.”
    “Olivia …”
    She didn't hear the rest of what he had to say because she stalked to her room. She managed to stop short of slamming the door after herself, but it was a near thing. She set her violin carefully off to one side and threw herself onto the bed.
    What was wrong with her? Shouldn't she have been relieved that he was willing to respect her, and to leave her alone? She knew that she should count herself extremely lucky for the way things were playing out, but her skin still tingled with fire, still burned with need.
    Instead of lying down to sleep, she stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what was going on. Was she not