He found her hands and placed them on the table. “Stay here whilst I light the lamps.”
Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness in the room—belatedly, of course—he found his way through the shadows. The lamps hissed to life, casting the room in a warm glow.
“There we are,” he declared, feeling triumphant until he spun about to find her there. Just behind him.
He had almost mowed her down.
His hands settled on her waist, and it felt right. Too right. So right. “Hereyouare.”
“Here I am,” she agreed.
“You did not stay where I told you to,” he observed wryly.
But truly, had he thought she would? Not for a moment.
“I do despise following rules,” she said softly, her gaze dipping to his mouth.
He remembered that part of her.God, how he remembered.
“We broke rules together.”
So many of them.
Her hands had settled on his biceps, her head tilted back. “We should not have done so.”
He ran his forefinger along her jaw, could not resist. “Do you regret what happened between us?”
He had to know.
Did not want to know.
But everything hinged upon her answer, just the same.
“Of course not.” She rolled her lips inward for a moment, then released them. “If we had not broken rules, Emily would not be here.”
“I am grateful Emily is here. And I am glad you are here as well.”
“You were not happy to see me when I first arrived.”
No, he had not been. There was good reason for that, but he was pacing himself. He wondered if she had been about to chew on her upper lip again. And he wanted to kiss her. Very much. But that was not what this evening was about.
Her skin was smooth, so smooth. “You feel like silk and velvet mixed together, only better.”
The compliment bolted from his lips before he could think better of it or offer something more polished.
A flush crept over her cheeks, deliciously pink. “It is my face cream.”
He had never felt another woman with skin as soft or beheld another with a complexion so lustrous.
“Face cream,” he repeated, almost incredulous at her suggestion. No mere cream could achieve such a feat, he was sure.
“Yes.” She nodded. “My face cream. I have all the ladies in New York City wearing it.”
“Hmm.” He trailed his knuckles over her cheek, and it was every bit as soft, just as seductive. “Your cream, you say?”
“Yes. I have been planning to see it manufactured and sold. I have been in the process of finding a suitable location for it to be manufactured…”
He paused, studying her. “You mean the recipe for the cream is yours?”
