by Lynn Kurland
“You gave up much for me,” he said. He looked at the CD player. “The music alone.”
She shook her head, but he spoke again before she could say anything.
“It was a difficult choice, surely.”
“It wasn’t. There was no choice.”
He chewed on that for a bit, then sighed. “I could attempt to build you a piano.”
“Risky.”
“Entertaining.”
“You’re very difficult.”
He only flashed her the slightest of smiles. “Likely why you wed me. It wouldn’t have done for you to have found a man simply and won him without effort.”
“I won you?” she mouthed, then scowled at the glint in his eye. He was teasing and she would repay him—once she found something besides the current topic. He was probably right.
“You were worth the effort,” she said dryly.
“Even at the expense of Bruckner?”
“I brought enough of him with me to satisfy for a few years.”
Besides, as much as she loved Bruckner’s symphonies, he just couldn’t touch a man who had painted his bedroom walls with views of the sea to please her, who gave his precious smiles to her alone, who wept when he watched his daughter sleep.
Yes, the choice had been hers.
And she had made the right one.
She couldn’t ask for more.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lynn Kurland is the New York Times bestselling author of numerous novels and novellas. Visit her online at lynnkurland.com.