Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

AURORA

M y hands flew to my mouth. All I could do was stare in wonder. I, of course, had attended many concerts in the Hall, but to be on the stage? That was next level. It was otherworldly. It was almost an indescribable feeling. The closest I had ever come to this feeling was when I took a hot-air balloon ride over the Cotswolds. Seeing the breathtaking majesty of the historic English countryside in all its glory left me dizzy and elated. I felt that way now. It seemed as if every nerve in my body hummed with energy.

Without thinking, I ran into Roman's arms. Stretching my arms high to wrap around his neck, I bounced up and down with glee. "This is so amazing! How did you arrange it? I can't believe it."

Before he could respond, I broke free and just circled the stage again, trying to commit this moment to memory. I never wanted to forget a single detail. The black patchwork of planks that made up the stage. The worn glow in the dark tape that only the performers could see as they took their marks. The odd smell of wax, grease, and dust that seemed to permeate all theater stage and backstage areas.

I stretched my arms wide and just spun and spun like a child in a field of wildflowers instead of one of the most venerated and historical landmarks in all of Europe.

Catching myself, I stopped. I clapped a hand across my mouth and giggled. "Oh, my God, I probably shouldn't have done that!"

Roman laughed. "Why not?"

I stretched my arms wide. "You don't understand! This is holy ground. This is a church! This is… this is… I can't… it's just, oh, my God!"

Roman gestured behind me. "You haven't even said anything about the piano yet."

I turned. My eyes widened. Behind me was the Victorian Steinway & Sons concert grand piano from our home. I turned back to Roman. "How did you—? When did you?—?"

He smirked. "When you were upstairs getting ready. I had a small army come in and move it under pain of death if they made the slightest noise to alert you."

I hadn't even noticed. I was so consumed by the sight of Roman waiting for me in the hall in his tuxedo that I didn't even realize that the piano, which was the focal point of the open floor plan behind him, was missing.

"Why?"

Roman shrugged. "I figured if you were going to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience, you should have it on your own piano. Now, every time you play it, you will remember this moment."

Tears sprang to my eyes. No one in my entire life had ever done something so thoughtful for me.

I ran back into his arms. Burying my head against his chest, I choked back tears as I whispered, "Thank you."

He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head. "You know there is nothing I wouldn't do to keep you by my side."

I frowned slightly. I had been expecting him to say, to make you happy . For some reason, to keep you by my side didn't hit in quite the same way. I shook off the ominous feeling. I was being ungrateful and churlish by overanalyzing a simple turn of phrase. This man had just made the impossible possible for me.

Roman tilted my head back and gave me a sweet kiss on the lips. "So do I get to hear you play, or did I waste all this time and money for nothing?" he teased.

I turned my head and stared over my shoulder at the piano, then back at him. "I'm nervous."

"What do you have to be nervous about?"

"It's the Royal Albert Hall! Some of the greatest musicians over the last century have played here. These walls have absorbed the notes from the best of the best. I mean Richard Wagner himself walked this stage."

He stroked my cheek. "Exactly. This hall has waited a century and a half to hear you play."

Warmed by his praise, I approached the piano. I sat on the bench, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. With my eyes still closed, I placed my fingertips on the keys, feeling their familiar warmth. Leaning forward, I played the first brooding notes of Wagner's Fantasia in F-sharp minor sonata. It had always been one of my favorites because of the obvious Beethoven influences and seemed appropriate for the moment.

My anxiety receded as the notes took over.

By the time I had completed the measures of the opening Un poco lento , I was completely lost in the music. My fingers caressed the keys as I moved effortlessly from one movement to the next. When I came to the dramatic recitative , which led into the bridge passage, I played with dramatic gusto. At the Adagio motto e cantabile melody, I spared a glance in Roman's direction.

He was leaning against the far-right balustrade on the stage, arms crossed, his entire attention focused on me. The sight caused a flutter in my stomach. I adored how he looked when he watched me play. It was in those moments I could almost believe he felt something close to love for me.

After a rapturous passage, the music returned to its more somber gloom with the final Un poco lento .

My fingers stilled on the last of the notes, depressing the keys and letting the music slowly fade. I then leaned back and folded my hands in my lap.

Roman's hands came to rest on my shoulders. I gave a slight start. I had been so caught up in the music, I hadn't noticed him move.

"That was beautiful, my darling."

I didn't respond. I was too overwhelmed.

"Now play Moonlight Sonata for me."

I knew it was his favorite piece, mine as well. He often requested I play it for him, especially late at night. He would sit by the fire with a brandy and just have me play it over and over again with this far-off look in his eyes.

Roman stayed behind me with his hands on my shoulders as I played. The deceptively simple notes filled the Hall. Most felt this was a dark and gloomy piece, but I had always focused on the bright, uplifting notes. They were like small rays of sunshine peeking through a storm-filled sky.

Once again, I closed my eyes and became lost in the music. I knew every note as if they were a part of me, as if they were the very rhythm of my heartbeat.

When the final strains drifted softly into the air, I opened my eyes to find Roman down on one knee before me. He was holding a bright silver ring box with the most uniquely beautiful ring I had ever seen.

I blinked several times. "Roman, what are you doing?"

He took my suddenly chilled hand in his own. "From the first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you had to be mine. Until that moment, my life had been shrouded in darkness, but when I beheld your sweet innocence and then heard you play with such deep intensity and wonder, I knew I had finally found a woman worthy to be called my wife. You didn't bring sunshine into my world, you brought the dawn. My beautiful Aurora, like your namesake, you are a complex burst of radiant color and new beginnings for me. Now that I have felt your warmth and light, I must capture it and hold it close. I can never let you go. You have become not only my light, but my air, my blood, my life. Aurora Evelyn Barlowe, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

My lips trembled as my eyes filled with tears. It was the single most moving speech I had ever heard. As I gazed down into his dark eyes, I could not only see, but feel deep down in my soul that he had meant every exquisite word. It was perfect in every way but one. One specific word, to be exact.

He had never mentioned the word love.

My heart shattered into a million pieces as I finally faced the truth I had been denying since this man had first taken over my life like a dark storm.

Roman Winterbourne was capable of many great, miraculous things. He had overcome a harsh upbringing as an orphan to build a formidable empire of wealth and power. He had even made what would have been an unachievable dream for me come true this evening. Yes, he could do amazing, impossible things.

But he could never love me.

I didn't think he was even capable of the emotion.

To me, love was compassion, empathy, companionship, and friendship.

To Roman, love was obsession, possession, and complete control.

I could have overlooked our past, our age difference. I could have even forgiven his role in the events that led to my parents' deaths, but I couldn't look past his inability to love. Soon our passion would fade and without love, we'd have nothing but bitterness and regret.

I slowly shook my head as the tears fell down my cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Roman, but my answer is no, I can't be your wife."