“Everyone disappeared from the dining hall,” he said.
She tilted her head, listening. “Then why do I hear voices?”
“Oh, there’s plenty of people left in there. But Clarissa went upstairs, and Markham followed soon after. Moments later, Katherine and Bromton left as well.” He lifted a brow. “What is it about this place?”
She shrugged. “Weddings make some people amorous, I suppose.”
And you?He strolled into the room.Do weddings make you amorous?He wanted to know.
And he definitelydid notwant to know.
She hefted the bowl and made a show of ignoring him in favor of closely examining silver-rendered insects.
“Dragonflies are an interesting choice for a soup tureen, don’t you think?” he asked.
“You are mistaken.” She set down the bowl. “They’re clearly damselflies.”
“Are they?” He leaned over her shoulder to get a closer look. “But a damselfly’s wings are closed when at rest.”
“Who says they’re at rest? They could be fluttering about, as flies are wont to do.” She shifted, slowly lifting her gaze. “Besides, if they were dragonflies, their front and back wings would have different shapes.”
“I see, now.” He reached from behind her and ran a finger over a veined wing. “Damselflies, indeed. They have more delicate bodies.”
“Deceptively delicate. Remember…damsels can be predators”—her short, puffedPpuckered her lips—“too.”
Such a mouth she had. Andsucha face. Even a gifted artist would despair, trying to capture her changeling spirit in pigment. “Do you have an interest in entomology?”
“I’ve always been drawn to insects.” She folded her arms. “Asyoushould know.”
Anger, he understood. Hers bore down on him—a deliberately placed heel. She would crush him if she could. Which made him want to respond in unspeakable—possibly even illegal—ways…all of them erotic.
The taste of rancid shame pooled beneath his tongue. He must apologize and get out.Fast.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.
“I’vebeen avoidingyou?” Her lids narrowed to slits. “Youput oceans between us.”
“One,” he replied softly. “One ocean.” One soot-watered, lightning-capped ocean, churning, at this moment, beneath his ribs.
“One ocean”—she swallowed—“was more than enough.”
Had it been?
In an instant, time and distance withered to nothing. The fruits of his sweat, pain, and self-recrimination? Gone.
Her pull stretched and deepened his inner mayhem. He wanted to pin her down, let her claw him all she wished, so long as she whimperedpleasewhen he pressed his lips against the vulnerable column of her throat.
Her woman-scented skin visibly prickled with gooseflesh. Not so much an invitation as evidence—proof she was no more immune than he was inoculated.
Attraction. Simple.
Lust. Common enough.
No reason to plunge into waters and drown.
“I sought you out to apologize,” he said.
She paled, even as the bright spots in her cheeks darkened. The contrast made her less intimidating, more doll-like. Now, he wanted to take her into his care.
