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“What is that?”
“Childish Charlie,” she whispered. “Though it was only ever in my thoughts.”
Charles didn’t know whether to laugh or grimace, for he’d definitely earned the title. “That is not the most flattering name I’ve received,” he replied. “I was hoping for something more along the lines of Handsome Charles or Charming Charlie.”
She smiled, her eyes on his mouth. Her hand raised, hesitating a moment before sliding the tip of her finger along his bottom lip once again. “Now, I am more apt to call you My Charlie.”
His heart rapped against his chest, desperate to break free and join Marie, but he held it back.
He would not lose his control around the woman, no matter his heart’s desire.
He loved her too much to risk it now.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Marie didn’t want to encourage Charles any more than she already was, for her desire to be near him was so strong, she was hardly thinking straight, her mind teetering between conscious and dreamlike states.
The day had been perfect, and now, ending it in Charles’s bed? She couldn’t have planned it better herself.
Although, had she planned it, there certainly would not have been three other men in the room with them.
She continued tracing the outline of his lips with her fingertip, her eyes growing heavy.
“Thank you for today,” Charles said, giving her a momentary volley of energy.
She lowered her hand on the bed next to his, their little fingers pressed together.
“I hope you enjoyed it,” she replied.
“I did. More than any other adventure I have ever had.”
Obviously he exaggerated, but she smiled all the same.
“Are you ready to return tomorrow?” he asked next.
Her spirits fell. She’d managed to set aside the thought of returning to Grendale Manor all day. “I suppose. I assume you are not, seeing as how we have another ball to attend.”
He grimaced. “No.”
“We could always make it better for you,” she offered, her eyes heavy once again.
“How so?”
“You could push me into a fountain again.”
He smiled, though it faded swiftly away. “In truth, I dread being around others more than attending another ball.”
“I dread that, too,” she whispered.
A look of understanding passed between them. Had Charles changed his mind about the annulment? The look in his eyes certainly suggested so.
A cold draught sailed through the window, pulling a lock of hair across her brow, so she nuzzled further into Charles’s jacket, his earthy cologne filling her nose. Would the scent linger on her until morning? Would she be fortunate enough to smell it again if he kissed her now?
“Are you cold?” Charles asked.
“A little.”
He reached forward, brushing her hair from her brow before eying her hands. “May I?”
