But he admired her just the same.
She finished playing and turned back to him, her expression challenging. “You’re still here.”
He raised an eyebrow and stared her down. “Itismy music room, Miss Fox.”
“I know that, but your disapproval of me hangs over you like a dark storm cloud. I would have thought you’d prefer to be as far from me as possible.”
She wasn’t wrong about that, but for some reason, Lion felt the sharp prick of guilt at her words.
“I find your singing pleasant,” he said stiffly, the only sufficient excuse for remaining here that he could think of.
Her lips parted. “Thank you.”
She sounded surprised. Lion found himself mesmerized by her mouth. He wished he could find every one of those half dozen Swiss lads and trounce them for knowing those lips when he didn’t.
“You’re welcome,” he managed, his voice feeling suddenly rusty.
He was hardening in his trousers at the mere thought of kissing her. What the devil was wrong with him? And why couldn’t he seem to stop staring at her lips?
“Do you play?” she asked.
“I haven’t done so in years,” he admitted.
She slid to the side on the piano bench, making room for him. “Come and take a seat, Marchingham. We’ll play and sing a song together.”
He eyed the space she had created dubiously. “I don’t think that would be wise.”
“Why not?”
Because if I’m sitting that near to you, I may be tempted to touch you.
No, he couldn’t very well admit that shocking, horrifying truth now, could he?
Lion cleared his throat. “My skill is abysmal compared to yours.”
“Nonsense.” She grinned at him.
And God, but it was difficult to keep himself under control when she smiled at him like that, her green eyes sparkling as if they were keeping a secret that only the two of them knew. He could well understand his sisters’ affection for her. The woman was a magnetic force even when he desperately wished to be repelled.
“It will be fun,” she added. “But then, is that what you’re afraid of? That you’ll actually enjoy yourself? Good heavens, perhaps you’ll evensmileagain.”
She was teasing him, the hoyden.
Absurdly, he found himself wanting to return her grin with one of his own.
“I’m not afraid, madam.”
She patted the bench. “Then sit.”
He felt like a dog, doing his master’s bidding.
“I won’t bite,” she added outrageously. “I promise.”
Her words sent a strange rush of heat directly to his groin. Because, curse her, he was thinking about her nibbling on his neck whilst he…
No. Decidedly not.
He mustn’t allow that dangerous thought to progress any further.
