“I know. I’m just... upset that she can still get under my skin. Like she has an invisible collar on me and at any moment she can jerk it.”
He brushed away the dangling curls at the back of her neck. A mistake. Her skin was softer than silk.
“No collar,” he said, his voice deeper than he intended.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” she began, and he cleared his throat and straightened, pulling his arm from her, “Mrs. Dove-Lyon is coming to see you this afternoon. Amelia thinks Mr. Chase would have told her about me and so I should meet her. Apparently, we don’t want to appear as if I’m hiding from her, for whatever reason.”
“The reason is that the woman can turn any situation to her advantage. It’s best not to catch her interest. I doubt she’ll see anything to use against you.”
“Do you know her well?”
“As well as anyone can. I’m a favorite of hers because I never lose at the gaming table.”
“Isn’t that bad for her establishment?”
“No, because I make other men lose heaps of money. They get desperate, and that’s when she swoops in to strike.”
“Strike?”
Sam rubbed his jaw. He didn’t want to tell her about his contract and the mystery wife he’d not yet met. He froze. Is that why she wanted to come? Was she going to introduce his—? He shook his head and Daisy watched him curiously.
“Did Amelia and Blakewood mention anyone accompanying her?”
“No. Not to me at least.”
Sam sighed. “I should make myself presentable.”
Her gaze wandered over his attire and once again his blood rushed south from his head. He hastily stood and took a few steps before stopping. He put out his arms to balance himself but after a breath he realized he didn’t need to. He could stand on his own. The world didn’t spin. His feet didn’t cramp.
He cautiously turned to face her.
She jumped up to catch him as if he might fall.
Sam chuckled, relief soaring through him. “I’d crush you if I fell on you.”
“Likely, but I’d still try to catch you.”
He took a hesitant step toward her, and then another, and then another, until he stood before her. She smiled up at him with fresh tears, but he suspected this time they were happy.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said.
For walking. He was so infantile and yet he didn’t feel shamed by her words. He was proud too. So proud he was going to kiss her. He knew it. It was inevitable. He cradled her face.
It was just for celebration, he told himself. That was all. A moment to recognize that their shared endeavor was succeeding. Her smile fell away as her eyes focused on his and Sam knew she was seeing something in him that he’d been hiding since their first meeting, but here they were.
“Have you ever stood this close to a man before?”
“Not until you.”
Those words shouldn’t hit him so deeply, but they did. Right to the heart of him.
“No one has ever kissed you? Truly? You’ve never had to stare down a lecherous lout seeking to corner you in a garden?”
She laughed. “No. I’m kept under lock and key.”
His brow pinched. “Whose lock and key?”
She bit her lip, and his gaze dropped to her mouth, liquid heat filling his veins.
