He relaxed his grip slightly. ‘What are you talking about? You speak as if marriage is the end of your life, a death sentence. All you need do is look to your sisters to see that isn’t true.’
‘Their situation is very different, and you know it. They’reloved.’ The fight drained from her. ‘Men don’t love women like me.’
‘That’s utter horseshit.’
She stared at him. ‘You were there when Blake said at dinner a few months back that any man who shared my bed would have to sleep with one eye open and hide all the butter knives in the house.’
‘Because she knows what you can do with a butter knife.’
‘Thenyousaid sane men know better than to court me.’
His eyes filled with remorse. ‘Since when do you pay attention to anything I say? In truth, I don’t know a man worthy of you.’
The tension in Eda’s body dissipated but not the heat. She suddenly became aware of the intimate pose they found themselves in. A passer-by would assume them to be lovers, not quarrelling friends.
Roul should have let her go at that point. She was no longer a threat to him. He knew that. He should have stepped back. Instead, he remained where he was, his fingers curled around her wrists and body pressing against hers.
She should have pulled free, pushed him away, ducked beneath his arm out into the open space.
Yet neither of them moved.
Eda could feel his heart beating through his uniform. This was no longer a fight. Nor was it two friends making up. This was warmth and breath and a very distinct lack of words. She was waiting for something, bracing. She just was not sure exactly what that something was. But then his gaze fell to her lips, and she realised what it was. There was heat in his stare, heat and weight.
She swallowed. In case it was not clear enough that she wanted him to kiss her, she tilted her face up to him ever so slightly—an invitation. He leaned in, his breath on her skin. She waited, then waited some more.
But instead of kissing her, Roul released her wrists and stepped back.
‘What was that?’ Eda whispered.
He glanced in the direction of the street, visibly uncomfortable. ‘It was just a fight. Now it’s over.’
‘I’m not talking about the fight. I’m talking about after the fight.’
He swallowed. ‘I got carried away. Sorry.’
‘Sorry?’ She stepped up to him and took hold of his face. ‘Didn’t you feel that?’
He gently pulled her hands away. ‘It’s time to go.’
‘Roul—’
‘Must you push the boundaries with everything?’ His pleading eyes met hers. ‘Even our friendship?’ He gestured in the direction of the street. ‘Let’s go.’
She did not move. ‘No. Not until you kiss me.’
He dragged a hand down his face.
‘I may not have a lot of experience with these things,’ she said, ‘but I can recognise an almost kiss when I see one.’
‘I’m not going to kiss you.’
‘Because you don’t want to?’
‘Because I respect you too much to give in to my impulses.’ He signalled for her to start walking. ‘Now go.’
She crossed her arms. ‘Does that mean youdon’trespect Hildred?’
‘You’re twisting my words.’
