“And I was coming to find you,” she replied with a smile, just as she had at Fenbridge Hall.
That smile loosened something in his chest.
“I’m sorry for disappearing without a word,” she told him when they’d stopped and stood before each other.
“Your brother advised me to give you time to think when you need it.”
“Tristan?” A pink-peach blush rushed over her cheeks. “Did he come home in the night?”
“No, this morning.”
Both of her dark-gold brows winged high. “So, he knows.”
“I think he can conclude...”
“It’s all right.” She ducked her head and laughed. “Tristan won’t tell anyone.”
“What matters most is that you’re all right,” he said quietly, stepping close enough to reach for her. Yet when he did, she cast a glance around as if to ensure no one from the village was wandering the same field.
“How could I not be?” she said a bit too lightly.
“Tess, last night—”
“Was wonderful,” she finished with an earnestness that put him at ease.
“But you needed time to think.” He didn’t blame her for that. God knew his own thoughts were a jumble. “Did it help?”
“A bit.”
Dom wanted to ask more, wanted to ask her for the same honesty she’d demanded of him, but something held him back. Something in her eyes—a hesitation, uncertainty. The last thing he wanted was to force her into some confession she wasn’t ready to give.
“Tristan found a note on the door from Fenbridge,” he told her instead.
“Oh?”
“It seems he wants his usual visit this morning, but he’s asked that I accompany you.”
She tilted her head as if confused. “That’s curious.” She took in his rumpled clothing, her gaze catching at the skin revealed by the open buttons at his throat. Then she glanced down at her own clothes.
“I’ll go back to the inn and change and meet you back at the cottage.”
For a moment, she looked as if she’d keep him with her, lifting her hand as if to touch him. So much was going unsaid between them, and yet they both seemed unable to articulate anything sufficient after the hours they’d spent together.
He was altered by it. That was his one certainty. “Will you come to the inn tonight?”
It was the plainest, simplest expression of how much he wanted the new closeness between them to continue.
“Yes.” She wore an inscrutable expression, but he was too pleased at the thought of more time with her to worry overmuch.
Dom bent to kiss her quickly. Too quickly. Too brief ataste, and then they parted ways. He crossed the field toward town, and she headed back toward Foxdene.
Tonight, he planned to tell her what he felt, even if he didn’t yet know how she’d react. She needed to know that, to him, this wasn’t just some temporary, rule-bound liaison. At least he didn’t want it to be.
For the first time in his life, he wanted more, and yet he may be losing his damned cynical heart to a lady who wanted nothing more from him than any other had.
Chapter Seventeen
Tess opted for her best day dress for the visit to Fenbridge Hall. She’d run out of clean trousers, though she’d borrow some of Tristan’s, if need be, before they reopened the dig site.
