Playing by Heart

by Cleary James

  ‘No!’ It came out so vehemently that she laughed. ‘Don’t go. I’m glad you’re here.’

  He hesitated, regarding her uncertainly.

  ‘I want you to stay,’ she said and was relieved when he smiled, his features relaxing.

  ‘Okay.’ He nodded. If you’re sure, I’m more than happy to oblige. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.’

  Lisa suddenly felt emotional in the aftermath of her adrenalin rush, and she blinked back tears, overwhelmed as relief seeped through her.

  Grayson frowned, putting an arm around her. ‘What happened just now?’ he asked. ‘Were you dreaming?’

  She shook her head, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand. ‘No, not exactly. But I wasn’t properly awake and I panicked when I felt you in bed with me.’

  He frowned broodingly. ‘You thought I was him. Mark.’ His tone was flat, his expression solemn.

  ‘I wasn’t thinking at all. It was just an instinctive reaction. I guess I subconsciously sensed danger and my body automatically went into fight or flight mode.’

  Grayson sighed. ‘Well, I’m glad your body chose flight and you didn’t try to beat me up.’

  Lisa laughed softly, grateful to him for lightening the atmosphere.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asked, squeezing her shoulder. ‘I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’

  ‘You don’t. I really like that you’re here, Grayson. I feel ... safe with you.’

  ‘Good.’ He gave her forehead a soft kiss.

  She curled into his side, laying her head on his shoulder and he stroked her arm soothingly as her breathing returned to normal.

  ‘I hope you’re not paying too much for that hotel room you didn’t use,’ she murmured. ‘Where were you going to stay?’

  ‘Cliff House.’

  ‘Ooh, nice.’ It was a boutique five-star hotel just outside the village. ‘Seems a shame to miss out on that. I’ve heard it’s lovely.’

  He shrugged. ‘I think the accommodation here is far superior.’

  ‘I doubt that,’ she laughed.

  ‘Well, the bed is much more comfortable, and I can’t fault the room service,’ he said with a grin, his eyes twinkling.

  ‘And we do serve a very good breakfast.’

  ‘You see – no contest. Breakfast wasn’t even included at Cliff House. And I, for one, am starving.’

  ‘Me too,’ Lisa grinned. ‘I seem to have worked up quite the appetite somehow last night. But first I’m going to take a shower.’

  Grayson nodded, relaxing back against the pillows as she got out of bed.

  ‘Would you like to join me?’ she asked, holding out her hand to him.

  Grayson’s mouth spread in a wide smile. Without another word, he swung out of bed and took her hand. His cock was already hard as she led him to the bathroom.

  Lisa hummed to herself as she made breakfast, taking special care to make the bacon crispy, and the scrambled eggs soft and creamy. This morning felt special, and she wanted to make it a treat for Grayson – for both of them. She hadn’t felt so happy in a long time. She’d been content here, but this pure, giddy joy was on another level. She felt so light, she thought she might be in danger of floating away.

  She was still tingling from their lovemaking in the shower. They had kissed as they stood under the warm spray, their hands gliding languorously over each other’s naked bodies, massaging and stroking, unhurried as they luxuriated in their closeness. Then it had become urgent and heated as the excitement built between them. Grayson had lifted her, and she’d wrapped her legs around his waist as he thrust forcefully inside her, driving them both to an explosive climax.

  She’d pulled on a robe and left Grayson getting dressed while she started on breakfast. She was glad to have a little alone time to gather her thoughts. Last night had been incredible; and this morning, she thought dreamily. She’d never known lovemaking like it before – so passionate, yet so tender it almost brought tears to her eyes thinking about it. She hadn’t expected to ever really yearn for sex again after Mark. But she couldn’t get enough of Grayson, and her desire for him was a revelation. She craved his touch with a hunger that took her by surprise.

  He made her feel more alive than she had in a long time, and she was glad he’d found her. But it was tinged with sadness because she knew nothing could happen between them. They were worlds apart in every way – not just geographically, but socially. Grayson lived in London, and was part of the city’s wealthy elite, while she eked out a living as a waitress and part-time artist in this tiny village in Cornwall. She knew last night was just a one-off thing, and her heart ached at the thought. But she didn’t regret that it had happened. Grayson had awakened something in her that she had thought was dead, and nothing could take that away. Even when he was gone, she would still have that spark inside her and the memory of one last precious night with him.

  ‘Mmm, something smells good,’ Grayson said, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder and she breathed in the delicious male scent of him, fresh from the shower.

  ‘It’s just ready,’ she said. She loaded up their plates with scrambled eggs, bacon and toasted sourdough, and they took them through to the living room. Lisa felt dazed as they sat opposite each other at her little table, as if she was in a dream. They weren’t touching, but she had never felt closer to anyone than she did to Grayson right now. The sun poured in the window, and the sky outside was a perfect cloudless blue. It couldn’t have been a more perfect morning.

  Grayson kept his eyes on her almost the entire time, as if afraid she might disappear. He grinned at her goofily when their eyes met, his happiness almost palpable.

  ‘I can’t believe I found you again,’ he said.

  ‘Me either,’ Lisa said, smiling back at him.

  ‘So, do you plan on staying here for good? Do you think you’ll ever go back to London?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She shrugged. ‘I miss it sometimes. It’s a big change living in a small village, but I’ve made a life for myself here. I feel like I belong, and I feel ... safe.’

  Grayson’s smile faded and a flicker of concern passed across his face. ‘Do you think Mark is looking for you?’

  ‘I don’t know. But if I try to find out, it could lead him to me, so I don’t risk it.’ She didn’t dare look Mark up on social media in case it would give him a way to find her.

  Grayson gave her a cagey look. ‘I could get Isabel to try to find out, if you like? She still sees him sometimes.’

  ‘Oh.’ Of course Mark would come across Isabel from time to time. They were both important art dealers with galleries close to each other in Mayfair. But it wasn’t the idea of Isabel seeing Mark that caused her heart to plummet. It was the thought of Grayson still being involved with her that was causing that corrosive gnawing in her belly.

  ‘How is Isabel?’ she asked, trying to sound casual.

  ‘She’s great.’ Grayson’s fond smile cut through her. She knew it was silly to feel that way. Of course Grayson would speak of Isabel affectionately. They were old friends, she told herself, trying to be reasonable. But she couldn’t block out the needling voice in her head reminding her that they were old friends who slept together. It was a sharp reminder that sex didn’t mean to Grayson what it did to her. It had been easy to forget that when she was with him last night. He’d been so completely focused on her, so intense and passionate that it felt like more than just the physical act. The heat in his eyes and the tenderness of his touch had beguiled her into believing he felt the same way she did. Caught up in the moment, it had been all too easy to forget that to him it was nothing more significant than sharing a pleasant physical activity with a friend. She didn’t doubt that Grayson liked and desired her; but sex didn’t mean anything to him beyond that.

  She had never understood the kind of casual sexual relationship he had with Isabel. She still didn’t. She wished she could be sophisticated about it, b
ut she knew she couldn’t be that intimate with someone and not want an emotional connection too. So it was probably a good thing in the long run that this was just a one-off thing. Falling for Grayson wouldn’t do her any good. He wasn’t mean or uncaring, and she knew he would never deliberately hurt her. But that wouldn’t stop him doing it. The jealousy would eat away at her and make her miserable.

  ‘Has Mark ever said anything to her about me, do you know?’

  ‘She bumped into him just after he came back from China. He asked if we’d seen you while he was away.’

  ‘Oh!’ Lisa tensed up. The thought of Mark looking for her gave her a horrible hunted feeling. She could imagine how angry he’d have been.

  ‘She didn’t tell him anything, of course. She didn’t even know that I’d seen you that week. She suggested the two of you come to dinner, and he said you’d gone to stay with an aunt.’ Grayson smiled crookedly. ‘I knew you didn’t have an aunt. I guessed then that you’d gone and he didn’t know where you were.’

  ‘He wouldn’t want to admit that I’d left him.’ It would have been humiliating enough for him that she’d walked out on him. His ego couldn’t take anyone else knowing.

  ‘Would you like Isabel to try to find out if he’s looking for you? She’d be subtle about it, I promise.’

  Lisa thought for a moment. ‘No,’ she said finally. ‘I think I’m better off not knowing.’ Maybe it was cowardly, but she didn’t want to think about Mark any more than she had to. If she knew he was searching for her, it would make the threat of him a constant looming presence in her life, and she didn’t want that. If he found her, she would know all about it soon enough and she would deal with it as and when it happened.

  ‘You don’t have to work today?’ Grayson asked her when they had finished eating.

  ‘No. I’m really lucky. I only work weekdays. Martha has plenty of part-time staff to cover Saturdays and Sundays.’

  ‘That’s great. So, any plans for the weekend?’ he asked.

  ‘I was just going to do some painting.’

  ‘Where do you paint?’ he asked, looking around the room. ‘Do you have a studio?’

  ‘There’s an attic conversion at the top of the house,’ she said. ‘It was just being used as a junk room. My landlady let me have it for no extra rent if I took care of clearing it out.’

  ‘Can I see?’

  ‘Sure.’

  When they’d cleared away the breakfast things, she led him up the steep flight of stairs to her little eyrie on the top floor. The pungent smells of oil paint and turpentine hit her nostrils as she opened the door and waved him in ahead of her. It never failed to give her a little thrill entering her makeshift studio. It wasn’t a large room, but devoid of furniture apart from a long workbench, it felt airy and spacious. Fitted shelves were filled with art supplies, jars full of brushes jostling for space with little bottles of varnishes and thinners, and a collection of paint-smeared rags. A skylight and a row of windows along two walls flooded the room with light. An easel stood in the corner opposite the door.

  ‘This is great,’ Grayson said, his eyes lighting up as he followed her into the room.

  ‘I know. I was really lucky Kay couldn’t be bothered clearing it out. But she said it wasn’t really usable space anyway.’

  ‘Really?’ Grayson asked sceptically, looking around. She could tell he was looking at it with an architect’s eye, seeing its potential.

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ she said drily. ‘Kay’s a friend of Martha’s. It was Martha’s suggestion she give me this room.’ She smiled crookedly. ‘I think there may have been some strong-arming involved.’

  Grayson chuckled. ‘I’d like to meet this Martha. She sounds like a paragon.’

  ‘She is kind of a force of nature. She’s been a really good friend to me.’

  ‘I like her already,’ he said. ‘May I?’ He nodded towards the easel and the canvases stacked against the wall behind it.

  ‘Yes, go ahead.’

  He walked over, but to her horror, he stopped on the way and picked up one of the smaller canvases laid out to dry on the workbench. They were typical postcard scenes of the village and surrounding landscape that she sold in local souvenir shops, and they were everything Mark had accused her of being – trite, derivative and completely devoid of originality, with no real artistic merit. But they were quick and easy to produce, and they were very popular with tourists, so they were a useful source of extra income. She smiled to herself as Grayson looked at the beach scene in his hands, a bemused look on his face, and decided to have some fun with him. She went over to stand beside him.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ she asked, folding her arms and nodding to the painting he was holding. She looked at him hopefully, as if eagerly awaiting his opinion.

  His eyes flicked over the other paintings on the table. ‘They’re very ... um ... They’re quite different to what you did before, aren’t they? I mean, maybe the painting you sent me isn’t your typical style, but—’

  She swallowed a giggle as he struggled to find something positive to say. ‘Relax. They’re terrible,’ she said, relenting. She took the painting from his hands and placed it back on the bench.

  ‘No, I wouldn’t say—’

  ‘Okay, maybe they’re not terrible,’ she smiled. ‘They’re ... fine. I just do them for the tourist trade. They sell really well,’ she shrugged. ‘It’s handy extra money.’

  ‘Oh,’ Grayson grinned at her. ‘I must admit that’s a relief.’

  ‘That’s my own stuff,’ she said, nodding at the large canvases stacked in the far corner. There were four finished paintings and one on the easel that she was currently working on. She watched as Grayson picked up the first of the paintings to examine it, feeling genuinely anxious about his opinion now.

  ‘Wow!’ he said, holding it out at arm’s length. ‘This is amazing.’ He lifted one painting after another from the stack, his expression thoughtful as he studied them carefully in turn. Then he stood in front of the easel. ‘This is brilliant, Lisa.’

  She went to stand beside him. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘It’s breathtaking.’ He turned to her, real excitement in his eyes. ‘You’re incredibly talented.’

  She smiled, blushing with pleasure. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I mean it. You don’t need to waste your time doing that stuff.’ He nodded to the pictures on the bench.

  ‘They’re the ones that bring in the money,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I mean, I sell a few of my pieces at the market, but not that many.’

  ‘These don’t belong in a village market, Lisa. I know I’m no expert, but I’m sure you could get a couple of grand for one of these in a London gallery – probably more, especially once you’d become established. I bet Isabel could sell them for you like that,’ he said with a snap of his fingers.

  ‘Maybe,’ she shrugged, smiling. It was really nice to hear. ‘But I’m not interested in showing in London galleries anymore.’

  ‘Why not? Didn’t you want this to be your career?’

  ‘That ship has sailed. I guess I’m just not as ambitious as I once was. The London art scene is so competitive, and talent is no guarantee of success. People way more gifted than I am never make it.’

  ‘But isn’t it worth trying? Your work deserves to be seen.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m happy to do it as a sideline now. I can enjoy painting and make a bit of extra pocket money without all the stress of trying to make a career of it.’ The truth was she couldn’t risk putting her paintings in a London gallery where they might come to Mark’s attention and lead him to her. He was such a dominant figure in the London art world, it would be impossible to have a career there without encountering him, and she wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t know if she ever would be.

  ‘Whatever makes you happy,’ Grayson said, frowning. ‘As long as it’s not because you don’t think you’re good enough. Because you are.’

  ‘Thank you. That means a l
ot.’

  ‘Well, I’d better go and check out of my hotel,’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘How would you feel about abandoning your painting and spending the day with me?’

  She smiled. ‘I’d love to. But don’t you want to visit your parents while you’re down here?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘Come with me,’ he said.

  ‘To your parents’?’

  ‘Yes. Why not?’

  ‘They won’t be expecting me. I wouldn’t want to impose.’

  ‘You won’t be imposing. They love when we bring friends home.’ He glanced out the window. ‘It’s going to be a beautiful day. We could go surfing on the way.’

  Lisa grinned, delighted by the suggestion. ‘I’d love that! It’s a great time of year for it.’

  ‘Do you have all the gear?’

  ‘No, I usually just hire everything. I don’t go that often. I’ve only had a few lessons.’ Surfing was expensive, and it was only an occasional treat when she could afford it.

  ‘Well, I’m pretty rusty myself. But I know a great beach on the way that’s perfect for beginners and doesn’t get too crowded at weekends.’

  ‘Sounds perfect.’

  Grayson beamed happily at her. ‘Then we could go on to my parents’ for dinner and stay the night. What do you say?’

  Lisa was almost shaking. She was so happy, it didn’t seem real. She decided she wasn’t going to over-think this. ‘I say yes!’

  ‘Great! Well, throw some things in a bag and I’ll go get the car.’

  Chapter Ten

  It was a mild, sunny day, and Lisa couldn’t have been happier as they bowled along the twisting roads with the windows open, the music pouring from the car stereo providing the perfect soundtrack to the stunning scenery of the coastline flashing by. Every bend in the road revealed another wide sandy beach or rocky cove, the sunlight sparkling on the water far out to the horizon while foamy waves crashed against the rocks below. Each vista was more breathtaking than the last, and she was torn between looking out at the scenery and watching Grayson as he drove. She still found herself constantly awed anew by the beauty of this place – she didn’t think she’d ever take it for granted, no matter how long she lived here. She and Grayson spoke little as they drove, but it was an easy, comfortable silence. It felt like they were both on the same wavelength, giddily happy to be in each other’s company and enjoying this lovely day.