“He wanted you to be his wife once. He’ll realize you’re the one he wants again.”
“You can’t say that. Now, let’s focus. We need a pedestal table. Could you please search the house and find one?”
As Hyacinth headed out of the room, she grumbled under her breath about the cleaning versus decorating again. But Violet refused to let her sister’s more practical nature interfere with the opportunity to transform the room into something truly special.
Violet shifted several decorations and then stood back again. The settee was slightly off-center. She laid her crutch on it and then began to nudge it.
“What are you doing?” Sterling’s voice came from the doorway, irritated and accusatory.
She startled, then stumbled. To keep from falling, she grabbed the edge of the settee.
His footsteps thudded rapidly across the room, and before she could sit down, he was lifting her up into his arms.
She would absolutely die of mortification if he’d heard any part of her conversation with Hyacinth from a few minutes ago.
“Did you just come into the house?” She tried to keep her voice nonchalant.
“Yes, and it’s a good thing I did, so that I could put an end to whatever you were doing.”
Relief made her weak, and she sagged against him.
He situated her against his chest and glared down at her. “You shouldn’t be lifting heavy furniture. Not with your injury.”
“I was just pushing it a tiny bit.” She tried to speak sternly, but her voice came out breathy.
“If I remember right, the settee was on the opposite side of the room.” He cocked his head toward where it used to be located. “And now it’s here.”
She couldn’t hold back a laugh.
His brow furrowed even more. “That’s no laughing matter. You need to stay off your injured foot.”
“Hyacinth moved it, not me.” She swallowed the rest of her humor and couldn’t stop herself from lifting a hand to his forehead, where she gently fingered the lines, trying to smooth out his worry. Apparently her conversation with her sister was making her bolder and giving her permission to touch Sterling more freely.
The lines didn’t go away. But the fierceness of his glare began to dissipate. “You’re doing too much.”
“I’m being careful.”
“Not enough.”
This time she lifted her hands to the brim of his cowboy hat and tilted it up just slightly so that she could see his eyes more clearly.
The brown was filled with a concern that went straight to her heart and seemed to ease some of the tightness there. Had her father ever looked at her with such concern? Had he ever taken such tender care of her?
If she’d once been afraid of Sterling being like her father, maybe it was time to see all the ways he was different instead of finding all the ways he was similar.
“Thank you for caring about my injury, Sterling.” She loved the feeling of his strong arms holding her up and his broad chest sheltering her.
Hyacinth’s words echoed in the back of her mind.All he needs is a little encouragement, a nudge in the right direction. A kiss.
She’d told Hyacinth that she wouldn’t. But was Hyacinth right? Should she find out if he wanted more?
She’d never initiated a kiss with him in the past, had always waited for him to ask.
She moved her hand from his hat to his jaw and let her fingers graze along the hard line leading away from his chin. This exploration of his face was new territory, and she liked the solidness and the scruff and the nearness.
He grew immobile, hardly breathing.
What was he thinking? That she was being too forward?
