In place of a front door, a curtain hung along the frame and I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the original.
It fluttered for a moment before it was pulled back. Alexander Hasket’s dark head peered out before the rest of his broad frame spilled onto the drive. My heart gave a delighted jolt. In his shirtsleeves and waistcoat, hair jutting every which way, he was still the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
Unable to restrain myself, I slipped open the door and stepped onto the gravel and weeds below. He was too far away to make out his expression, but nothing about his countenance or the way he held his frame indicated irritation.
Tentatively, I stepped toward him on wobbly knees. Christ, I really was a cricket. My legs were too long and too ungainly to be relied upon.
Muehheheh!A sheep called out in my direction, drawing my gaze from Xander—the beast had prevented the carriage from traversing any farther up the drive.
A heavyset thing with a white body, dark face, and impressive horns, it gave another irritated bleat. I stepped forward, offering it my wrist for a sniff. It gave a weary huff before allowing me to scritch it behind the ears with a quietermehheheh.
“Hullo there. What’s your name?”
Suddenly, a huffing breath sounded at my side—Xander. He was even lovelier up close, impossibly long lashes framing dark eyes overtop full lips and a stubbled jaw—I remembered those lips, so soft against my own, the perfect contrast to the bite of his half-considered beard.
“Don’t”—wheeze—“touch”—wheeze—“her,” he panted, hand pressed into a stitch in his side. I liked him breathless, even if I wasn’t the cause.
“Why not?”
“She’s evil. She’ll attack.”
The sheep offered a tentative bleat, nudging its—her—snout into my palm. My fingers curved instinctively, scratching along her chin.
Xander stared at us, gaze flicking back and forth between me and the ruminant beast, his jaw slack and eyes astonished.
“What?”
“She’s not trying to— What do you know about sheep?”
“Almost nothing. Why?”
“She’s been nothing but trouble since we’ve arrived. Threatening to charge anyone within range, sneaking into the house to defecate, making a general nuisance of herself. But you?—”
“I think you’re attributing a great deal of malice to a sheep.”
“No, that is a malevolent hell-sheep.” He gestured toward the thing with his usual irritated gestures. The sight made me smile. It was so lovely, so Xander, that my heart was entirely full with it.
“Well, she seems to like me well enough.”
“So she does…” he muttered, then turned to face me. “And, I suppose I should ask, why are you here?”
My amusement faded, leaving behind nerves and nausea, tinged with the tiniest hint of hope.
“I… uh... I do not know. I just…”
His expression was unreadable, brow furrowed, not in irritation, but not in pleasure either. “You just…”
“Wanted to see you.” My tongue darted between my suddenly dry lips, wetting them. “I just wanted to see you.
“You wanted to see me?”
I swallowed, desperate to shove the rising nerves back down my throat. “Yes.”
He turned back to the curtain, searching for something. Whether he found it or not, I didn’t know. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind him, calling back to my driver, “Stables are on the north side.”
The man grunted and set off to rest the horses. I stumbled after Xander. He was astonishingly difficult to keep up with in spite of my longer legs. We rounded the house, if it could be called that, and stepped into a side yard.
He tugged and suddenly I found myself pressed against the house. The tan bricks damp with the remnants of morning dew. And then his fingers slid into the messy curls at my nape and pulled my lips down to his and I could think of nothing else.
