A knock on the door saved him from having to explain, and as usual, Keith didn’t bother to wait to be beckoned. The younger man stuck his head around the door—he’d put his shirt and jacket back on after their sparring session, thank God—and grinned unrepentantly.
“It’s snowing,” he said cheerfully.
Unconsciously, Lyon’s gaze flicked to the gray window, then back, before he scowled. “I ken.”
“Snowing too hard for Lysander to make it back for the lady.” His grin grew as he nodded to Bonnie. “Sorry, miss, but ye’re stuck here for the duration.”
The duration?
Both he and Bonnie moved toward the window at the same time, meeting in front of the cold glass. She leaned forward as though she’d be able to see the ground from this height, but Lyon placed his palm against the glass. He could tell, just from how hard it was coming down, that there’d be no travel for the rest of the day.
Or night.
“Fook.”
Raising a brow, she shot him a wry look. “It is not as bad as all that, Lyon.”
“Aye, it is,” he growled. “Ye’re stuck here.”
With me.
She just clucked and waved her free hand dismissively. “Please do not care for my reputation. My sisters are happily married, and my mother has made it clear—by my choice to pursue independence rather than a life as a biddable wife—she wants nothing more to do with me. My reputation is well and truly ruined.”
Lyon wanted to object, but for some reason, his mind got stuck on the idea ofthiswoman as a biddable wife. Asanykind of wife.
A wife, who might sit across the table from a husband. Who might smile and tease and listen to a man’s ideas and plans and contraptions. Who might sigh and scream and moan in bed.
Who might love him.
Why would Bonnie do any of those things? Rose didnae, no’ at the end.
“Perhaps it isnae yer reputation I’m worried about,” he muttered, turning away with a scowl.
She laughed, but just as quickly, slapped her hand over her mouth. When he turned to scowl at her, he saw her cheeks pinking again.
“I am sorry,” she mumbled from behind her fingers. Then she lowered her hand, took a deep breath, and met his eyes, hers still twinkling. “I am sorry, Lyon. I should not have laughed. Your reputation is fierce, surely you know that, and for a moment, I thought…”
When she trailed off, he crossed his arms and lowered his brows. “Ye thoughtwhat?”
She wasn’t intimidated. Nay, of course not.
Instead, she shrugged. “I thought you meant allowing me to stay the night would tarnishyourreputation by showing people you are not really the beast everyone thinks you are.”
Damn her and her perception. Damnhim. He swallowed past the anger and confusion which threatened to choke him. “Aye, we cannae have that.”
From the door, Keith’s teasing voice called out, “So two for dinner, aye?”
Without dropping Bonnie’s gaze, Lyon growled out, “Aye.”
She gave an impertinent little curtsey. “I do hope you forgive me if I do not dress for the meal, milord. I brought no other clothing.”
And now she was stuck with him.
Had Lyon been a better man, he might’ve made a joke abouthisstate of undress when she came in. Instead, he turned away and stalked for his desk, pretending interest in his sketches until he heard the door close behind him.
The paper in his hand crumpled in his fist.
Damn him! Damn the weather and damn Lysander!
