She was so shocked that she could summon no words. She sweated profusely, feeling a need to dab her neck repeatedly. Staggered by the effects he’d had over her in just a few short sentences, she stumbled back, gesturing to the house.
“Good day,” he said again, in parting this time.
She turned and ran as quickly as she could back to the house. She darted into the kitchen, then closed the door behind her.
“I should have really thought this through,” she mumbled to herself, leaning on the door.
Chapter 10
“So, this is where you have been hiding?”
Marcus looked up, that voice now incredibly familiar to him. He shifted forward in his seat, peering at the door as Callie appeared, stepping inside the library. She looked around the library, drinking in the sight as she had done the night they had bumped into one another in this room.
Marcus could have growled at the memory of that night. His thoughts shot back to the way he had kissed her and the impassioned way she had kissed him back. Had she returned wanting another one of those kisses?
He parted his lips to ask her as much when the housekeeper appeared behind her, carrying a tray.
Marcus cleared his throat in an effort to clear his mind, too, and then gestured to the armchair opposite him, inviting Callie to join him.
“Here’s your tea, Your Grace.” Mrs Urwin placed the tray down on a table between them.
“Thank you.” He waited until the housekeeper had receded from the room and Callie had taken her place in the chair opposite him.
She was leaning forward in her seat, peering at the myriad of papers he had on his lap.
“And what is it you have been doing so secretly in this room?”
“You think I have been hiding from you, Callie?”
“Have you?” she whispered, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
“Never,” he assured her, shaking his head. “Perhaps I am just trying to show some restraint.”
“What for?” she asked, reaching forward and pouring the tea out for the two of them.
It was not the first time he noted that she did this with ease as if she had done it a hundred times before.
“Well, the last time you and I were in this room …” He trailed off, prompting her to remember that night, too.
She sloshed a dribble of tea over the edge of one of the cups and cursed.
“Goodness,” she muttered, mopping up the tea.
“Ha! Why do I get the feeling you often say, ‘goodness’ when you want to say something more?”
“Perhaps I do.” She blushed and finished with the cloth, then leaned forward with his cup, holding it out towards him. “Perhaps I am trying not to think of that night either.”
“What?” His fingers had reached for the cup. They now closed over her hand, and they both froze, leaning towards one another, their hands practically entwined on the cup. “You wish to forget it?”
“God no,” she said, the curse making a smile leap to his lips. “I …” She suddenly pulled away, and between them, the cup nearly dropped. He hastened to reset it, his eyes darting over her. “I wish to keep my thoughts away from temptation.”
“Ha! Well, at least we share something else in common, Callie.” He didn’t miss the way his words made her blush again. “Very well, if you wish it, you will never hear me mention that kiss again. Is that what you wish for?”
He was praying she wouldn’t say yes. He imagined her putting down the teacup and moving towards him, perhaps crawling into his lap on this chair and moulding her lips to his. He’d happily drop the entire teapot’s contents over the fine hearth rug before him if it meant tasting her lips on his once again. His stomach had knotted tight with the want of her when he realized she hadn’t said anything at all. Instead, she held her gaze as she lifted the teacup to her lips and took a sip.
“Very well, then I shall talk of it often.” At his promise, they both laughed together. She blushed a pleasant shade of pink and fidgeted in the chair. He hoped she was trying to find some friction, some satisfaction to a longing for him. That would be comfort, at least, if she dreamt of him at night as the way he did her. “So, what is it you are doing?” She motioned to the papers on his lap again.
“Ah, I am writing.” He shuffled the papers together. “It’s been so long since I’ve written any poetry, but these last few days, I don’t know.” His eyes flickered towards hers over the paper. “I feel a little inspired.”
