“You make it rather difficult not to.”
A breath. A pause. The crackle of tension between them.
And then she smiled. Slow. Knowing.Teasing.
God help him.
“You wanted to see me again,” he murmured, stepping closer. It was a statement, not a question.
She tilted her head, studying him, and put a gloved hand to her throat. “Did I?” she drawled.
“Don’t play coy.”
She laughed softly, the sound sending heat straight through him. “And if I did? What do you intend to do about it?”
Ash parted his lips to reply…when the door swung open.
“There you are, Ash,” Meredith’s voice rang out. “I wondered if you’d actually make an appearance here tonight.”
Ash turned smoothly, slipping back into his usual mask of indifference.
“And disappoint my sister?” he said, placing a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Meredith and Griffin both gave him wary looks from the corners of their eyes.
Clare, for her part, looked utterly unbothered.
The moment passed, and then the four of them were heading to the dining room, exchanging polite conversation about the weather, theton’s latest social engagements, and the future arrival of Meredith and Griffin’s child.
Ash should have been engaged in the discussion. He should have had a dozen witty remarks ready to fill any silence. He should have had a score of ready questions about his futurenephew. And hedidhope the baby was a boy. He’d bet quite a large sum on it at the club.
But all he could do was watch Clare.
The curve of her mouth as she sipped her wine. The way the candlelight made her skin glow. The subtle way she shifted in her seat, as if aware of his gaze, as if she felt this thing between them just as acutely as he did.
It was excruciating.
What the devil was the matter with him?
And when she finally excused herself to use the convenience, he waited precisely two entire minutes before setting down his napkin and following her.
Then he wandered around in the corridor like a lovesick schoolboy until she came around the corner again. The moment he spotted her, he acted on pure instinct.
He reached for her, pulling her swiftly into a nearby room and closing the door behind them.
“Well, that was subtle,” Clare murmured, eyes alight with mischief.
Ash barely heard her.
Because she was so damn close now, the scent of her—warm, sweet, utterly intoxicating—making him dizzy.
And before he could talk himself out of it, he cupped her face and kissed her.
Hard.
She made a soft sound of surprise against his mouth, but then—God help him—she melted into him.
Her hands slid up his chest, fisting the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer, as if she had wanted this just as badly as he had.
