Leaning to the side, Eloise spied him standing directly below her with his head canted back and his magnificent jawline on full display. A quickening went through her; a pulsating electric shock that left her nipples tingling and the downy hairs at her nape standing straight up.
“Go away,” she said, making a shooing motion with her hand. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I came out here to be alone.”
“I will gladly go away as soon as you come down.” He braced an arm on the oak’s trunk and glowered at her through its leafy branches. “Should I get a ladder?”
“Don’t be absurd,” she scoffed. “I don’t need a ladder, and if I come down now then I’ll have to socialize and I don’twantto socialize, which is why I’m up here and you need to go away before you draw attention to my whereabouts.”
“You shouldn’t climb that high without supervision. It’s dangerous.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m completely safe. You–”You’re scared, she realized when she saw the underlying flicker of fear hiding behind his anger.You’re scared for my safety.And Eloise’s heart–her tough, indignant, battle ready heart–melted just a little bit. “Mr. St. James, are you afraid of heights?”
“Afraid of heights?” he said scornfully. “Absurd. I’m not afraid of anything, let alone high places. I merely don’t want to endure the tiresome panic and mayhem that would result from your death.”
“Then climb up and rescue me.” She patted the limb she was straddling, her bare feet swinging idly back and forth. “There’s plenty of room.”
Was it her imagination, or did his face pale? The mighty Adam St. Clair, frightened of a tree. How…interesting.
“Climb upthere?” This time he didn’t bother to disguise his apprehension. “I prefer my neck in working order, thank you.”
“It’s sturdy.” Her lips curved. “I can sit on your lap, if you’d like.”
He made a choking noise.
“Was that a yes?” she asked innocently.
“Eloise–”
“Help,” she cried, waving her arms in the arm. “I’m slipping.”
“That isnotamusing.”
She started to laugh, but then she reallywasslipping, having failed to keep her weight centered in the middle of the branch. With a muffled shriek, she toppled sideways, her fingers clawing desperately for purchase on the oak’s rough bark. But her palms were too slick from the afternoon heat and her skirts were too cumbersome. She couldn’t hold on! Pinching her eyes shut, she let go–and tumbled straight into Adam’s waiting arms.
“I’ve got you.” He staggered to the left, but maintained his grip on her trembling body. “You fool,” he snarled, giving her a harmless shake before immediately tucking her back into the hard, safe enclave of his chest. “You reallycouldhave snapped your neck if I wasn’t here.”
“You distracted me,” she protested without making any effort to remove herself from his embrace. He felt strong, and he smelled divine, and when she rested her head just so she could hear the rapid fire beat of his heart. “If you hadn’t come along, I wouldn’t have fallen.”
“If I hadn’t come along, there would have been no one here to catch you.”
“I don’t need anyone to catch me.”
“You did today,” he said gruffly, drawing her closer.
In the shade of the oak, with the indistinct hum of voices mingling with the chirp of birdsong, Adam held her and she allowed herself to be held, her eyes drifting closed as an unnatural sense of calm came over her…the same sense of calm that she felt when she went underwater in her bath and she was immersed in silence. For as long as she could hold her breath, her compulsion for frantic movement and her frenzied scattering of thoughts were replaced with…nothing. And in the nothing, she had fleeting peace from the relentless guilt that gnawed at her day and night.
“Eloise,” he said, his voice a rumbling whisper in her ear.
“Hmmm?”
“We should return to the house before someone–most notably, your brother-in-law–notices our joint absence and sends your sister’s rooster after me.”
She opened an eye. “Sir Kensington?”
“Sir Kensington is the name of a distinguished gentleman that enjoys caviar and vintage brandy.” Still holding her, Adam turned and leaned his back against the tree, enveloping them in a spattering of leafy shadow intersected by streams of light. “That bloodthirsty carnivore is more deserving of a name like Talon or Killer.”
“Sir Kensington the Killer, first of his namesake and Earl of Coopgreen,” she said solemnly, and was rewarded for her wit when Adam barked out a rare, rusty laugh. “I’m likely to regret telling you this, as your arrogance is already unbearable, but you’re handsome when you smile.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “And the rest of the time?”
