“I should dearly love to attend.”
“Pay your two bits like everyone else and your seat is guaranteed. Now, I really must go.”
“Of course, Mrs Reynolds, of course. It has been a delight to spend time with you.” Tipping his hat, he raised her hand to his lips.
Again, heat flashed through him. Startled, he almost dropped her fingers, and discovered she stared back at him, eyes wide. Did she feel it, too?
“I… Goodbye, Mr Llewellyn.”
“Goodbye,” he murmured as she disappeared into the saloon.
Still with hand outstretched, he stared after her. How could he feel such a thing? It had been a bloody kiss on the hand, and even then, his lips had touched nothing but fabric. But her scent had wound about him, violet water and soap, and he’d wanted to see if her skin tasted as good.
Turning, he shook his head.Ridiculous, these thoughts, and useless besides.He had a job to do, and no inappropriate attraction would distract him. After last night’s blunder, she believed him again to be the fool, the idiot Englishman who wanted to buy her saloon. He wouldn’t jeopardize his purpose in pursuit of some transitory emotion.
Turning on his heel, he put cane to boardwalk and sauntered away. There was plenty to do, and none of it concerning Mrs Alice Reynolds.
