“I don’t sing, I write. Music and lyrics. Write, Saber. And I sell them to other artists. I work for the navy. I don’t have a band.”
“Why is that, Jess? You’re obviously independently wealthy, you have a reputation as a songwriter, yet you’re still in the military. You’re in a wheelchair.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“You know what I mean. Why are you still in?”
“Who said I was?”
“I’ve lived here ten months. I know you’re doing some kind of job for them. Or am I not supposed to know?”
“You’re not supposed to know.”
She settled deeper into his chest, looking up at him with humor in her eyes. “Fine then. I’ll be ignorant. Sing to me, Jesse. If I can’t have the light on, and we can’t discuss how utterly stupid it is for you to stay in the military, then you can at least sing.”
“Is this what I have to look forward to the rest of my life?” he asked, bunching her hair in his hands.
“A fate worse than death,” Saber agreed drowsily.
At least she hadn’t demanded to know what he meant. Jess mentally shook his head. He couldn’t afford any more mistakes like that. Saber didn’t stay in one place very long and lately she had become restless, looking over her shoulder. Was she getting ready to leave? She had said she wasn’t running anymore. He couldn’t take the chance of making her more nervous, because he damned well wasn’t going to let her go, and he was finding out every single one of her secrets whether she liked it or not.
“Jesse.” Saber sounded petulant.
He eased back against the pillows, Saber’s head on his chest. “A song, huh?” Jess sighed heavily. “You’re so high maintenance.”
“Quit stalling,” she murmured.
Jess closed his eyes and allowed the feel of her satin skin, the clean feminine scent of her to seep into him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and sang Saber her song. The one he wrote for her, the one that beat in his heart, his head, every time he looked at her or thought of her. A slow, dreamy ballad.
She moves like an artist, graceful and free
Like the paint on a canvas that flows easily
Oh, but those haunting eyes
They make me realize
The depths of my emotions stirring inside
She’s the woman I dream of
A child at play
Crusading for others, in her own special way
When I think that it’s over, it’s only begun
When I look in her eyes…
Oh, but those haunting eyes
They make me realize
The depths of my emotions stirring inside
Like the flight of the butterfly in gentle breeze
Her delicate features are so clear to see