I never got a chance to simply study Jack unnoticed. He was always awake and, of course, would never let me stare at him without making some obnoxious comment.
But for now, I drank my fill. My eyes traced his full lips, the curve of muscle in his shoulders, the dip of his waistcoat just below his ribs.
All the online fervor was right.
Jack was absurdly handsome. His chestnut hair had a gentle wave to it, and I imagined the scruff on his chin would rasp my palm if I could touch it. He was on the tall side but not oppressively so. My little five-foot-one self would fit perfectly under his arm.
I walked closer, leaning into him, my nose nearly touching his. In repose, his face was relaxed, allowing me to contemplate the laugh lines next to his eyes and the tiny wrinkles of skin beside his ear. He had a small scar to the left of one eye. His eyebrows were in desperate need of manscaping.
And his lips . . .
I lifted a finger to them, running my finger tip back and forth over his full bottom lip. I didn’t feel a thing, of course. Not even a trace of temperature difference. Nothing.
And yet, even thenothingof him caused my poor finger to tingle. Dumb man.
Of course, Jack decided at that moment to rally. His eyes popped open and his body revved to life.
Our gazes met. He had no choice really, as my eyeballs were only about six inches from his.
His head reflexively jerked back, expression instantly sardonic. Like everything else, it looked good on him.
“Contemplating true love’s first kiss, are you?” His tone half ironic humor, half surprise.
I willed myself not to blush. I was only marginally successful. “It might be hard to find a sacrificial maiden.”
“That blush on your cheeks tells me you don’t think it would be a sacrifice.”
Some polite responses would have been:
I think you’re mistaken about my blush.
Please stop teasing me, Jack.
But, no.
I went with, “Stop being dumb.”
Yep. That was my lame response. Verbal filters. Why couldn’t I have some?
Though I said the words more as a reflex than anything, I supposed. More akin to calling a friend a dork in a good-natured way.
“That’s your best comeback?” His expression amused.
Shaking my head, I took a step back and crossed my arms. “I just watched you pass out again and then had to sit here wondering if you were ever going to wake up. I was worried and concerned about you. So, yeah, that is my best comeback at the moment.”
Jack’s nostrils flared, eyes blazing blue. “I-I . . . uh—”
“The only words out of your mouth right now should be ‘I’m sorry.’” Mentally, I winced at the tone of my words.
Way to go, Chiara. Makehimapologize for your ogling of his man-lisioucness.
Silence.
“I am truly sorry.” Jack bowed. A full-on proper lordly bow with a sweep of his arm and everything.
And not a hint of irony.
We faced off with each other. The air heavy with things unsaid, but our eyes couldn’t keep silent.
