“Good evening, Camilla. It pleases me that you would join us.”
Her heart soared.He said my name!The tender sound coming from his lips was like fingers plucking heavenly music from a harp.
“Of course, Malcolm. Why would I not want to be a part of such an entertaining group?” She bestowed upon him her bestsmile. “I don’t think I have ever heard a more interesting story than what you were telling James and Lizzy.”
James tugged on her skirt, his smile stretched from ear to ear. “Milla? Do you wanna have Papa read to you, too?”
She nibbled on her lower lip and hesitated before nodding.
“Papa?” James continued. “Milla wants to read with us.”
Malcolm chuckled. “But James, with you and your sister on my lap, I don’t think I’ll be able to fit Camilla there as well.”
Her gaze snapped up to meet his smoldering eyes. Just the idea of sitting so close to him, and in that fashion, made her cheeks burn. She cleared her throat. “That is just as well. I’ll be more comfortable on the sofa.”
Malcolm took her hand and wrapped it around his elbow. “Why do we not all sit on the sofa?”
She was certain she appeared like a love-struck girl while dreamily staring into his eyes as she walked with him to the furniture. Yet she couldn’t tear away from him. His charm intoxicated her, and she wanted to lose herself in it.
James and Lizzy climbed back onto their father’s lap, and Camilla sat by his side. Every once in a while, his elbow brushed against her arm, and she forced herself not to sigh aloud from the warm pleasure rippling through her. Strange how one subtle movement could create such heated explosions.
Malcolm’s deep voice hypnotized her. Laying her head on the back of the sofa and turning slightly, she stared at his profile and absorbed his words. After three more stories, he had complete control over her, whether he wanted to or not.
When the servant announced the children’s bedtime, Camilla jumped to a sitting position and blinked the daze from her eyes. James gave her a kiss on the cheek, then a hug. Lizzy wouldn’t kiss her, but Camilla received a small hug from the little girl.
Her heart tugged from their sweet gestures. Lizzy and James placed kisses on their father’s cheek before leaving the roomwith Jane. Although Camilla had never conceived a child with her husband, perhaps someday she would find a man to have children with that would shower such affection on her.
Malcolm closed the book and placed it on the table in front of them. He stretched his arms over his head. It fascinated her, the way the fabric of his clothes pulled tight across his muscles. As he relaxed, he laid an arm across the back and turned and looked at her. His hand rested dangerously close to her shoulder, and she wanted to cuddle against it, but resisted with every fiber of her being.
A smile touched his lips. “Thank you for spending time with the children. They really enjoyed your presence this evening.”
She returned a smile. “It was my pleasure.” She glanced over at the parlor door, then back to him. “But why did they leave before supper?”
“They have already eaten.”
“Why can they not share the meal with us?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated as his brows drew together. “I have never thought of that.” He shrugged. “I suppose they may join us, if that is what you wish.”
“I think it would be wonderful to have us all eat together.”
“Why would you find that wonderful?” He turned his body her way. “In fact, why are you here right now?”
She sighed heavily.Oh, not again.“I haven’t done so lately, and I wished to get to know you and your children better.” She paused. “Does that make me a criminal?”
“No, just different from the Kat I know.”
She tried to swallow the lump caught in her throat. She didn’t dare encourage him, but she must. “Then forget the woman you once knew and look more closely at the Camilla sitting next to you now. I assure you, they are two different people.”
His gaze touched every inch of her face before resting on her lips. Her skin warmed, and she enjoyed the feeling. She waitedfor him to unleash his anger, but he remained calm and relaxed. Envious of his ability to stay composed, she worried her whole body would come apart at any moment.
“At times you almost have me fooled, Mrs. Worthington. Deep down I want to believe you are different, but I have lived with you long enough to know otherwise.”
His fingers moved to her cheek and stroked her skin. Tingles danced down her spine.
“Outwardly,” he continued, “you are the beautiful woman I thought I married, but…” His finger trailed down her neck to her collarbone.
She held her breath. Why did she ache for his tender caress, and especially his kind words?
