“Aye,” she hissed. “Only for the coming weeks.”
Something in his chest tightened at that.
It was the simple truth. In a matter of weeks, their arrangement would be over. That should have meant nothing to Aaron, but it did not.
His grip tightened on her chin. His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth, then lower to her heaving chest.
The soft light in the room caught the neckline of her dress, the fabric hugging her in a way that made her feel both exposed and untouchable.
He should have stepped back. He was aware of that with the same clarity he was aware of most things.
But he did not move.
There was something about the way she held his gaze when she was angry that made retreat feel impossible.
Only for the coming weeks.
The words had landed harder than she likely intended. Or perhaps exactly as hard as she intended. With her, it was sometimes difficult to tell.
Either way, they sat in his chest like an uncomfortable weight.
Her hair gently framed her face. And her scent, that annoying wild lavender, rose in the space between them.
Aaron swallowed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he realized he’d been watching her.
“I didnae say that ye lack social graces,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Only that they can be improved.”
His hand was still on her chin, so he let it drop slowly, holding her gaze.
Edith blinked. She did not answer immediately. Instead, she looked away for a fraction of a second before looking back at him. The silence between them shifted again, something softer threatening to break through it.
Aaron stepped back first.
“I cannae help ye improve,” he added, forcing himself back toward the desk.
“I didnae?—”
He raised a hand, cutting her off before she could start another argument. Then he reached into the top drawer and retrieved a brown envelope that had arrived earlier that afternoon. He had not meant to give it to her now, but perhaps he was running out of reasons not to.
“I wanted to give ye this,” he said, holding it out.
Edith looked at the envelope, staring at it as though she had not heard him.
“Take it,” he urged, his voice quieter now. “Perhaps it will help ye.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Edith hesitated for a moment.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the plain brown envelope in Aaron’s hand, reluctant to take it from him.
This could be a trap.
The envelope was addressed like a letter, but there was nothing to say it could not contain additional terms to their already tumultuous arrangement.
“What is it?” She looked up at Aaron, raising a brow.
His jaw clenched with impatience as he put the envelope in her hand, and only then did her eyes fall on the small note in the corner.
