"I'll have to let you know."

Then he leaned in and kissed her.

His mouth was sure against hers, claiming her with a confidence that took her breath away. There was no wondering, no indecision, just flesh on flesh, breath mingling and her heart pounding about a million beats a minute.

She put one hand on his shoulder, while he cupped her face with both hands. He held her as though she was precious, which made her want to give him whatever he asked for.

He didn't deepen the kiss, probably because they were standing on Nicole's porch, in view of the neighbors. Not that she cared, but he might. Then he drew back just enough to lean his forehead against hers.

"You're going to be a lot of trouble, aren't you?" he asked.

"I'm actually very easy to get along with."

"Sure."

He kissed her again, then he was gone. Claire sighed, then floated into the house.

Nicole sat in the great room, watching TV. When she saw Claire, she muted the sound.

"I see I don't have to ask how things went," she said. "You had a great time."

Claire crossed the room and sank onto the edge of the large, sectional sofa. "I did. He's wonderful. We went to Buchanans. Have you been there?"

"Yes. It's expensive. He was trying to impress you."

"Really?" Wyatt wanting to impress her?

"Why are you surprised?" Nicole asked.

"I just am. Are you mad?"

"No. One of us should have a decent love life and that one is obviously not going to be me. So, come on. Details. I want details."

Claire curled up and pulled a pillow against her chest. "It was great. We talked and laughed. He's easy to be with." She grinned. "He wants to have sex with me."

Nicole winced. "I need to have a talk with that man."

"Why?" It was amazing news.

"Because saying that is just plain tacky. And you're my sister."

"No, it's fine."

"Uh-huh. Just be careful. Wyatt doesn't do relationships."

"He said that."

"At least he was honest. How do you feel about this?"

Claire considered the question. "I like him. I just hope he was telling the truth about the sex."

Nicole laughed. "He's a guy. Why would he lie about that?"

As if Claire knew the answer to that. "So he wasn't being polite?"

"On what planet are men polite about sex? Is it different in the music world?"

"Not exactly. At least I don't think so. I really don't have a lot of experience with...you know."

Nicole frowned. "I don't know."

"Um, well, men." Claire held the pillow in front of her face, then dropped it. "I've never done that. Been with one."

She felt herself blushing and wanted to crawl in a hole. Unfortunately she couldn't escape the truth so easily.

Nicole's mouth dropped open as her eyes widened. "You're kidding. You're a virgin?"

"Sort of."

"It's really a yes or no question. Claire, you're twenty-eight."

"I know. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just did. I never dated much. I couldn't get away from my schedule. I never met anyone and when I did, Lisa was always prepared to make sure things didn't get too interesting. God forbid I should meet a man and stop playing the piano. I was busy and while I wanted a relationship, it just got more and more difficult to schedule anyone in. Then one day I realized I was in my twenties and I'd become a freak."

"You're not a freak," Nicole told her. "You're...you're...sexually challenged."

"Oh, yeah, that sounds better."

"It's not a horrible thing."

"It is for me. It makes me feel like I'm not real. That I'm only part of a person."

"It's amazing," Nicole murmured. "You're so beautiful and successful. I would think you'd have men hanging all over you."

"I wish. I seem to scare them off. Not Wyatt, though. So when he said he wanted to have sex with me, I thought maybe it would finally happen."

Nicole swore. "He doesn't know, does he?"

"No, and you're not going to tell him."

"I wouldn't know where to start. A virgin. Wow."

Claire grimaced. "Stop saying that."

"Sure. I'm sorry. I'm just-"

"Shocked."

"A little, but not in a bad way. Look, I don't have personal experience, but I'm sure Wyatt is great in bed. If you don't tell him, he won't know to go slowly, but I don't think that's a problem. I'm sure he's very considerate. You could hint that you don't have a lot of experience. Jeez. I almost wish I could see the look on his face when he finds out the truth."

Claire didn't know if she should appreciate Nicole's honesty or hit her in the arm. "You're not helping."

"Again, I'm sorry. I'm just dealing with this. Here I thought you were having all the fun."

"Not that kind."

"I guess." Nicole smiled. "Got any questions?"

Claire laughed. "About a thousand."

"Fire away."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

CLAIRE PULLED into the side parking lot at Amy's school, then turned off the engine. "Are you sure?" she asked, speaking directly at the girl.

Amy nodded and smiled. "I want you to meet my teacher."

There was some signing that Claire didn't catch, but she understood the major point of the conversation. Amy had mentioned her at school. Claire hoped the topic had been more about how fun she was and not about anything significant...like the fact that she was a concert pianist.

Claire still hadn't figured out how she was going to deal with her "other" life. Walk away completely? Until she got her panic under control, did she have a choice? People came to see her play, not have a total breakdown. While the writhing and screaming might have some minor interest the first time around, it would quickly get boring. None of which had anything to do with Amy.

"I'd love to meet your teacher," Claire told the girl.

Amy led the way through the bright and open school. There were wide corridors and skylights. Big signs reminded students that hearing aids were required to be worn in classrooms. That and the students signing with each other were the only indications this school was different from any other Claire had been in.

Amy led the way to the main office where she asked the woman behind the desk to get her teacher.

"They have a meeting every Tuesday," Amy said, speaking slowly. "They should be done now."

A meeting? As in more than one person in a room?

Claire told herself not to worry. That Amy would call her teacher over, they'd be introduced and it would be over in a matter of seconds. No biggie. But couldn't Wyatt have asked her to take Amy to school on a nonmeeting day?

A dozen or so adults filed out of a room behind the main counter. Amy waved and began signing at the speed of light. Her proficiency reminded Claire that her signing still had a way to go before it even got close to being basic.

A woman in her midthirties walked toward them. "Hi," she said as she signed. "Amy, it's good to see you. Who did you bring with you today?"

"My friend, Claire," Amy said. "This is my teacher, Mrs. Olive."

Claire smiled. "Hi. Nice to meet you. I've been looking after Amy while visiting my sister."

"I heard about Nicole's surgery," Mrs. Olive said as she signed. "How is she doing?"

"Better," Claire signed, feeling awkward and slow. She was really going to have to get better at the whole deaf communication thing.

Amy tugged on her teacher's sleeve. "Claire plays piano. She played for me. It was beautiful."

Mrs. Olive looked at Claire. "That's great. A lot of hearing people assume the deaf can't appreciate music, but that's not true. There are a lot of..." She blinked. "Oh my gosh! Are you? You couldn't be. Are you Claire Keyes?"

Claire stifled a groan as she nodded.

"I have a couple of your CDs. I love your music. I saw you on PBS. I can't believe it." She turned to the other teachers still in the area. "Sarah, you'll never guess. This is Claire Keyes, the famous pianist."

The other women hurried over and introduced themselves. Claire found herself answering questions.

"Yes, I do travel all over the world," she admitted. "It's a lot more work than you'd think."

"Still," one of them said. "You're so lucky. Have you really played with those singers? The three tenors?"

Claire nodded. "They're charming men."

"I can't believe this. A world-famous musician-at our school!"

The crowd increased. Claire grabbed Amy's hand to keep her close. Mrs. Olive continued to sign the conversation so the girl could follow. She seemed to be doing it unconsciously.

An older woman joined them. "I'm Mrs. Freeman, the principal. What a pleasure, Ms. Keyes."

Claire shook hands with her. "The pleasure is mine."

Mrs. Freeman touched Amy's head. "She's one of our favorite students. So smart and motivated."

Claire smiled at Wyatt's daughter. "She's pretty special," she said.

Amy beamed.

"We've all heard about you," Mrs. Freeman continued, "But we didn't understand exactly who you were. Would it be too much to ask you to play for us?"

Too much? Those weren't the words Claire would have used. Bone-chillingly horrible was a better choice.