The gesture was so easy.
So affectionate.
No woman had ever touched him thus. Somehow, it seemed more intimate than a kiss. He struggled to find words.
“You are?” was all he could manage.
“Yes.” She gave his fingers a squeeze. “Even though you pelted me with snowballs yesterday.”
His lips quirked into a grin. How did she always set him so at ease, make him smile?
“As I recall it, you fired the first shot,” he told her, staring down at their interlaced fingers.
Her hand was easily dwarfed in his.
“You must admit you had fun,” she teased, playfully bumping her shoulder against his.
He glanced down at her, into her upturned face, and he could think of nothing but kissing her. Making her his. Of her becoming his duchess. He was firm in his decision. This was the woman he wanted at his side.
In his bed.
“I will admit I had fun,” he allowed, “in exchange for you telling me why you are sitting on your book.”
She pursed her lips. “Perhaps it is because I wish to keep it warm.”
He laughed. She was ridiculous, and he found her intoxicating.
Strangely, maddeningly, intoxicating.
“I did not realize paper and leather require warming,” he said.
“Oh yes.” She nodded, continuing her ruse. “I cannot bear to read a cold book. So difficult to turn the pages, you understand.”
“What I understand is that I am having the silliest conversation I have ever had.” He raised a brow at her. “You cannot be comfortable, sitting upon a hard book.”
“I am wonderfully comfortable.” Her lips twitched as if she were stifling laughter.
“What else do you sit upon?” he could not resist teasing. “Pray tell me you do not sit upon small dogs or teacups to keep them warm.”
She did laugh then. Her laughter was tinkling and beautiful, and it sent a bolt of need straight through him. “Why those choices, of all things?”
“They were the first that came to mind.” He was smiling with her, falling into her eyes all over again.
Her gaze searched his, and whatever she saw there made her levity fade. “I only sit upon books and seats, I promise.”
He gave her fingers another squeeze. “Do you sit upon all your books, or just books you are seeking to hide from me?”
“Why should you think I am seeking to hide it from you?” she countered.
Easy answer for that one. “You are sitting on it.”
She was staring at his mouth now. “You do know you are behaving in scandalously improper fashion by sitting with me here in my chamber, do you not?”
He wondered if she was thinking about the kisses they had shared, and tamped down a wave of longing. “I do. However, I deemed the risk worthwhile, considering I had no other means of knowing how you fared. Your absence left me concerned.”
She raised a brow. “You could have asked my sister, Pru.”
He cleared his throat. “She was not present at the afternoon’s entertainments.”
