“Mediums claim to do it.Why not me?”
“Do you believe the mediums?”
“Not much, no.”
Her fingers drummed on his forearm, comfortable as a kitten in a pile of blankets.He placed his other hand over hers, and she didn’t even flinch.She simply walked forward with him, her sharp gaze fixated on something he couldn’t see.
“Air.And light,” she said softly.“Hmm.Why do you think you can see through glamours?”
“I’m not sure.A man named Donaldson in Manchester is studying the phenomenon, has been his whole life, but it doesn’t seem to follow the usual rules.Iron possesses no properties that interact with light that we know of.It can be reflective, though, like most metals.”
She shook her head.“I was taught nothing… I wonder if Apollo was or if my kind simply lack an inquisitive nature.”
“Not you.You are the definition of inquisitive.”
She smiled.Their gazes locked.His heart pumped pure exhilaration, headier than when the potion had him in its grip.
Then she noticed where his hand was, where her hand was, and she tugged it away.
Damn.One step forward.Two back.
She cleared her throat and ambled on.“I have always been the curious sort.My grandfather obliged me, usually.”They were passing the bookshop again, and she cast it a longing look.
“Your hair is pink, Miss Chester, no one will recognize you.Go in.”
“Horrible, tempting man.”But there was a laugh in her voice, and she paused at the shop door, her fingers hovering near her lips.“Do you really think I could go in and not be recognized?”
“I do.But… first…” He couldn’t help it.Her fingers had drawn attention to her lips, and now he could not look away, could not drag his brain back into a more logical, practical place.
Instead, he dragged her into a narrow alley between buildings and backed her against a wall.He rested one arm above her head and left the side of their bodies open to the square unguarded.She could slip away if she wished.Or… she could make another choice.“First, Miss Chester, tell me—may I kiss you?”
“What?”The word a bit of a squawk.
“I should like to kiss you.”
“But we barely know one another.”
“But we’ve been courting a week now.”
“But that’s not long enough and…”
“And?”
“We’re not really courting.”
“I am.I assure you.”
“Why?”Her gaze crept its way up his chest, over his cravat and chin and lingered on his lips.
“I like you.I need a wife.You need a protector.”
“I…” She licked her lips.“It would not be a good idea to kiss me.”
“I am afraid I must disagree, Miss Chester.”He leaned closer.The tips of their noses almost touched.She smelled like the potions shop, of earth and air and rain.“Do you not want to be kissed at all or is it me alone you object to?”
“Oh.”A startled little sound.Then again, softer.“Oh, it is not that.I should like very much to be kissed.And… and by you.”The last three words so soft he almost missed them.
“Then what?You are not scared.You cannot be.Not you.”
