Because You're Mine(46)

His hand on her hair soothed her, and she kept her head on his chest. “She hates me, Barry. We’ll never get along.”

“Give it time,” he whispered against her ear. “You’re mistress of this house now. She’ll just have to get used to it.”

His warm lips brushed across her neck, and she shivered, then turned her head to meet his kiss. Physical attraction wasn’t enough to base a marriage on, but it was enough to keep her head spinning. Still, what was physical attraction without the real intimacy she craved?

The kiss deepened, and she let go of the morning’s pain. Snuggled against his broad chest, she could almost forget his mother’s lies and the recent argument. She could push away the memory of the alligator and the kitten. The time was coming when he wouldn’t be content to keep the bedroom door between them closed, and Alanna realized she was almost ready to let him past the guard she’d kept up.

Without bothering to hide her reluctance, she pulled away. “I’d better check on my mates,” she whispered.

“How about I use my cell phone to finish my conference call?” he asked with a teasing light in his eyes. He still hadn’t taken his hands from her waist. “I’ll go sit out in the car.”

“It’s too hot,” she protested. The temperature was close to thirty degrees Celsius.

“I can turn on the air occasionally. I’m used to this weather.” He brushed his lips across hers in a final, lingering caress, then turned toward the door. “I should be done in another couple of hours. It’s all for you, you know. I’m working on getting some new venues set up for the band.”

Warmth spread up her neck. “Thanks, Barry.” She watched him close the door behind him.

As she threw her things back into the chest, she noticed a small recorder. She grabbed it up, then went down the hall to find the room with the music box. She figured out the maze of halls and rooms and stepped inside the room. Maybe her mates would recognize the tune. It was a good place to start. She lifted the lid of the box and pressed the record button on the mini tape recorder. When the song had played long enough, she closed the lid and went to find the rest of the band.

Her mates sat on boxes by the open windows. Even with a cross breeze, the ballroom was stuffy. From this vantage point, she could see clear out into the Atlantic, past the waving sea grass and the cypress trees.

Ciara got up to meet Alanna when she stepped into the large room. “That man is insufferable! I don’t know how you’ll be putting up with him.”

Alanna’s smile faded. “It’s his mum. She took one look at me last night and was prepared to hate me. We Irish disgust her. She told me to use this space when she knew the sound would disturb Barry’s important call.”

“He could have stood up for you. I wasn’t liking his tone when he came up here.” Ciara’s black eyes snapped. She waved a crimson-tipped finger at Alanna. “He’s too domineering.”

Alanna remembered his refusal to let her use the car. That was just concern though. “He’s trying to take care of me, make sure I’m not hurt.”

Ciara sniffed and Fiona rose, stretching like a lioness. Her blond hair rippling to her shoulders added to the illusion. “Leave her be. You haven’t given Barry a break since the first time you met him. I don’t know what you’ve got against him. He’s done a lot for Alanna. For all of us.”

Only Ena and Jesse said nothing in the argument. Ena sat snapping pictures of the water with her camera, and Jesse had his back wedged into a corner while he listened to the exchange.

Alanna was tired of her life being picked apart. “Are we going to practice or not?”

“We are.” Ena turned toward them. She picked up her pennywhistle. “I need to hear some music.” Her gaze went to the recorder in Alanna’s hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I almost forgot. I found a music box in one of the bedrooms. The tune is one my mother used to hum to me, and the box is just like one my sister had. Have any of you heard it?” She rewound the tape and pressed the play button. The haunting melody spilled out, and she turned it up. She wouldn’t mention the words Liam put to the tune. It was their secret, and she wanted to hoard it.

The band listened intently. Ena might be the one most apt to recognize it. Alanna watched the top of Ena’s pink head as she sat with her gaze on the floor. Ena had been in so many foster homes and in so many cities, she was likely to have picked up more snippets of culture.

“I’ve heard it,” Ena said when the music ended. “I can’t think where though. Play it again.”

Alanna rewound the tape and played the song again. The more she heard it, the more her dim memories of her mother sharpened. Mum had a mole at the corner of her mouth that Alanna had loved to touch when she was a little girl. She’d forgotten that until now. She could see the lips singing to this music, but the original words still eluded her. Alanna strained to recover more of the memory, but it slid away from her grasp.

Ena raised her pennywhistle. “My tired feet want to dance. This is getting us nowhere. Maybe it will come to us later. We need to practice now.”

Ena was right, but Alanna hated to give up when the tune hovered just beyond reach. The rest of the band rose and went to their instruments, so she had no choice but to turn off the recorder and grab her fiddle. Once the smooth basswood was in her hand, making music was all she thought about.