His chest rose on a deep breath. Then deliberately, he walked towards her, his face a battleground of emotions: joy, need, anxiety…
I can’t take him back. Not like this. God, somebody, anybody, please help me.
OceanofPDF.com
TWENTY-ONE
Blue Sage Café
“I hoped by the time we were face to face, I’d have the right words,” George said.
His face—oh for God’s sake,did the man get handsomer over the winter?Or had she been muting him in her memory to make the loss easier to bear? Certainly she’d forgotten about his voice. It started smooth and seductive, then dropped into rich and dark. She could curl up and sleep inhis voice.
His mouth shaped itself into a half smile. “I didn’t want to come empty handed.” He offered her a purple bag withCarolina Herreraon the side. “But this trip was unplanned. Thank God for the hour of waiting in Jersey betweenferries.”
Millie looked into the bag for a reason not to look at his beautiful mouth or the black eyelashes that darkened his heart-stopping grey eyes. He had that first-impact thing. It was like last year when she’d met him on East Hill and he’d flooded her senses.
She couldn’t afford to turn tojelly now.
The bag contained a lilac straw hat. She pulled it out and allowed the wide brim to unfurl. Coral-and-orange flowers were tucked into the curve. “Thank you. It’s gorgeous.” She kept her eyes on the hat. “I have a mirror somewhere.” She had stuck a mirrorbehind one of the hanging ferns to double the visual effect of green leaves. She turned her back on George and went to it.
It didn’tstop him.
“Millie,” he said from somewhere behind her. “I want to say something, and I hope you will hear me out. It won’t take long.”
Fiveminutes.
As long as he stayed by the counter, and she didn’t look at him. He could speak for five minutes, then he would haveto leave.
She waited.
And waited.
She pretended to be busy with the hat, pushing it slightly to one side over herforehead.
He cleared his throat, but no words came.
So, she had to turn around.
He drew in a harsh breath, his eyes travelling over her face and hair. “You look beautiful.”
Don’t walk towards me.
Don’t come closer.
Don’t touch—
Ever so gently, he brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I’m a fool,” he said. “I’ve been looking for the right words. But there are no right words to explain a wrong deed.”
His warm hand on her skin should be a wrong deed. It shouldn’t feel like it belonged there, like two halves unnaturally separated had finally come together. She kept her head down, the hat hidingher eyes.
“I understand fairy tales now.” His fingers were still on her cheek. “Why the knight must sail seas and defeat demons to bring back a rare jewel for theprincess.”
“Well,” She teased. “To be fair, you did sail the Channel, and you brought a designer hat.”
He didn’t laugh. If anything, his voice roughened. “There has to be something huge and impossible you can ask me. What can I do to begin to earn your forgiveness?”
She shook her head. If she was hoping to shake his hand off, she failed. His palm cuppedher cheek.
