“As for what brings me here…”
She stepped forward, the whisper of silk rustling. The folds of the skirt dipped between her legs with each step, outlining her long limbs. Connor swallowed and elevated his gaze, though it didn’t help. The skirt hugged her hips, trails of buttons and beads exaggerated her narrow waist and the pleats in her bodice, the fullness of her breasts. None which could compare to her lovely face or the cautious smile gracing her lips.
“I made some apple tarts for you. Hilde told me you have a sweet tooth.” She held out the basket she carried.
“Ye bake?” He took it with an appreciative sniff, the enticing aroma of cinnamon and apples made his mouth water nearly as much as Piper herself did. He peeked inside and snatched one of the tarts then he set the basket on the desk. He popped it in his mouth, savoring the tasty treat, and nodded his approval.
“Often.” Her cheeks grew rosy, pleased by the compliment. “In this instance, by way of an apology. I owe you one most sincerely. I regret accusing you of belittling my troubles the last time we spoke.”
Unable to help himself, he smoothed her hair back, silky and warm under his fingers. “Nay, lass. ‘Tis I who owes ye an apology. My words that day were compounded by my own troubles and unnecessarily cruel. I had nae place passing judgment.”
A nod rocked her head. “In any case, you were right. Harsh as it was, I needed to hear it. I have sat on my laurels when I should have been doing something more. I’ve given it a great deal of thought this week, and I thought to take your suggestion to go to America or Italy, perhaps. I’ll have access to funds from my inheritance once I turn twenty-one at the end of January. What to do in the meantime is the more pressing issue.”
Another gift of trust. He’d try not to fumble it this time.
“Would ye like to discuss it over a drink?” he offered. “Wine, perhaps, to complement our tarts? They smell delicious.”
“They were meant for you.”
“We’ll share. There’s enough there to tide us both over until supper, aye?”
She inclined her head. “Wine then, if you please.”
Piper’s gaze drifted from his broad shoulders down to his narrow hips as he walked away and a waft of heat and humidity akin to a mid-August day seemed to rise from beneath her collar to warm her cheeks. Fanning herself, she tore her eyes away and circled the room as he went to the sideboard to pour their drinks.
She hadn’t been in this room for quite some time, though it had once been a favorite of hers. The soothing color palette of grays and whites provided a more pleasant atmosphere than the gaudy crimson splashed on every surface of the drawing room adjacent to this one.
Letting her fingers dance over the curved back of the settee as she passed, she recalled happy evenings spent here. Playing games with her father and brother, or reading aloud to them from her typical spot on the well-cushioned satin hassock near the fireplace.
Idyllic times she feared she’d never recapture.
Shaking off the maudlin thought, she traced the delicate lines of a blue and gold vessel-shaped Sèvres porcelain vase on the marble mantel. It was more than a hundred years old, nearly priceless. That hadn’t stopped her from enacting pirate wars with it as a child, nearly giving her mother an apoplexy. Humor touched her lips as she moved on to pet the plush ivory and silver velvet damask wallcovering as she had when she was a child. When she’d naively thought it the most fascinating thing in the world.
It didn’t have a fraction of the appeal now when Connor was in the same room.
Alone with her.
The realization brought a blossom of heat to her cheeks, and she glanced at him from beneath her lashes. Thankfully, his back was still turned, so he didn’t see the blush or comment on it.
Although propriety and self-preservation both dictated that she leave, Piper had no desire in her to run away from him any longer. Only to him. With him. No fear, no misgivings. She knew she could trust him with her life.
And with every single one of her secrets.
Nowthatthought ought to frighten her, sending her fleeing toward the first ship to America. It didn’t. She had every confidence that he would never hurt her. Never.
In fact, he inspired her to believe he could provide something quite the opposite. Something she’d never experienced before. The potency of his presence, his nearness, had left her restless all week.
Even from across the room, awareness of his heady masculinity and powerful body danced over her, leaving a flurry of goosebumps in its wake.
Between them, a large desk sat in front of the north-facing windows overlooking the parterre that hadn’t been there before. A telephone sat on one corner. She hadn’t known one had been installed at the Grange and had never tried one. Curiosity nagged at her to lift the receiver and dial the numbers. Who would she call? There was no one.
Dismissing the dismal thought, she shifted her focus to the numerous papers and books strewn atop the desktop. Picking up one of the books, she read the title:A Treatise on Irrigation.
Making a face, she set it aside and reached for another. They were all of similar topics. Her farmer had taken the room for his office, it seemed.
Herfarmer. Her mood soared anew.
Connor rejoined her, passing her a glass of wine. Piper took a sip.
