It was the trust given.
Down one corridor, then another, he led her, the silence between them easy. He liked that. But it also held a tension.
He might like that better.
Without tension, there couldn’t be release.
Soon, they were walking through a disused wing of the manor, the only sound the muted fall of their footsteps across second-best, Aubusson rugs.
“We played hide-and-seek here as children,” she observed on a laugh. “When you and Archie could be convinced to actually seek us.”
“You remember.” He wasn’t sure her memory cast him in the most heroic light.
“I once stayed hidden in the darkest corner of a wardrobe for an entire hour before I realized no one was coming to find me.”
“I hope you don’t still hold it against me.”
She gave a little shrug. “It was a good plan to rid yourselves of annoying little sisters for an afternoon.”
“Perhaps not my best moment.”
Her eyes sparked with mischief. “Perhaps you could make it up to me.”
That spark of mischief sent a lightning bolt of desire zigzagging through him. “Perhaps.”
Once they reached the door he sought, he stood aside and allowed her to enter first. For a room that saw guests perhaps twice a year, it was clean and bright, not a mote of dust floating on the air.
He closed the door and retrieved the skeleton key from his trouser pocket.
Juliet’s brow lifted. “Is this a kidnapping?”
He inserted the key into the lock, but didn’t twist. “I’ll leave it to you to turn the lock, if that’s what you choose.”
A dark light flashed behind her eyes.Desire.The idea sent a responding feeling coursing through him. Perhaps, even now, her thighs were pressing together beneath her skirts…
Exactly how he wanted her.
“I always did like this little study,” she said, glancing around.
Rory stepped to the bow window. “For its view overlooking the kitchen garden?”
Juliet smiled. “For exactly that reason. The kitchen is the beating heart of every estate.”
“Most ladies prefer a window that sweeps out toa picturesque view.”
“I’m not most ladies.”
“Don’t I know it?”
She might’ve blushed, but he couldn’t be sure as she took a seat on the saffron damask chaise longue. He remained standing at the window, propping a shoulder against the frame.
Her head canted with curiosity. “How did you come by the key to this room?”
“Mrs. Rush.”
“The housekeeper gave you the key?” she asked, incredulous.
“Well, I happen to know where she keeps the keys to all the rooms, and she finds the dimple in my left cheek charming.” He shrugged.
