Better she release her anger on the door, he supposed, than on him.
Even so. “You’ll hurt yourself.” He strolled through the opening behind her.
“I’m fine.”
She was so ‘fine’in fact, that she spent the next forty-five minutes marching him through the building, answering him assuccinctly as possible and glowering at him whenever she caught his eye. She made it painfully clear that she was determined to refrain from mentioning the past to him again.
All of which he, quite rightly, deserved.
“You should go to the balls and the garden parties,” he offered thoughtfully once they’d returned to the ground floor. Though he was determined to maintain a professional distance, he couldn’t keep his gaze from settling on her lush hips as she preceded him toward the door leading outside to the vacant land in back.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she bit out without looking at him.
“I’ll take care of matters here, ensure things are finished properly. You really should land yourself a husband—perhaps a wealthy one who’ll happily add his blunt to your pet projects.”
She spun around to face him, eyes burning, her lovely cheeks flushed. “This is not a pet project for me!” He’d never seen her looking so worked up before. Not even on the day he’d ended things between the two of them. “What must I do to get that through your thick skull?”
Momentarily stunned, he inexplicably found his heart racing. She was impossible.
She was a bloodyCockfield, he reminded himself. He forced himself to recall what her brothers had set out to do to Arthur.
“Time will tell.” He affected disdain in the face of her passionate declaration.
To be truthful, he already believed her. She wasnotfickle, and even though she was far too young to be so diligent, she would not abandon a worthwhile project after starting it.
“Time?” She was pacing around in a circle now, gesturing wildly with her arms.“Time?How much time do you need? Is knowing me for most of my life not enough to prove my character to you? Or allowing you to hold my hand when wewalked alone through the forest? What about the fact that I gave you permission to court me? To kiss me? Is it not?—”
Jeremy swept her into his arms. He would silence the reminder of those memories with his mouth.
If she’d pushed him away, he would have released her. If she’d held her lips tightly together, he would not have dipped his tongue behind them.
But no.
She melted against him, like butter on warm bread.
She tasted like the tea they’d drunk earlier. That, and the sweetest flower, like comfort and…
Good God in heaven, Lydia Cockfield tasted likelove.
When he’d kissed her last fall, he’d been cautious, proper. He had not embraced her fully, held her small figure pressed tightly against his.
If he had, he wondered if he’d have had the strength to walk away back then.
She was as forgiving as an angel. But she was also warm, willing, and sensual. The feel of her breasts crushed against him sent white-hot arousal coursing through his veins. Her soft abdomen absorbed the pressure of his cock, taunting him with the thought of how it would feel to slide between her legs.
“Jeremy,” she whispered against his lips, making his name sound like a fervent prayer.
Need threatened his self-control. He could remove both their coats and arrange them on the floor. She would be his for the taking.
She stiffened. “What’s that sound? I heard something.”
She shoved at his chest, her bosom rising and falling with each labored breath. Even though her lips were swollen and shining from their kiss, her eyes were wide.
And then he heard it too—a door being thrown open and rapidly approaching footsteps
If he hadn’t spun around so quickly, he might have missed the sprite dashing through the door.
“Ollie?” Lydia recognized him just as Jeremy wrapped his hand around the child’s arm.
