Page 44
Well. There was no better time to segue into what she’d been thinking about this week—all day.
“There’s something here, isn’t there? Between us?” She’d tried, and failed, to forget what happened at the mansion. And oddly, even though they hadn’t kissed since the morning at his house, she felt as if that “something” was still alive and well. Like they’d lit a fire and now it was eating away at the trees and inching down the hillside toward the village—unstoppable.
He didn’t change the subject, or pretend not to know what she meant. He simply agreed. “Yes.”
“At first I thought our mutual attraction was fear-induced stress or adrenaline or…or something.”
“Or something.” He dropped her hand to rest his palms on her hips. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Her heart galloped as she studied his earnest face. “Looks like you can’t keep your hands off me, either. Which means so far I’m winning that bet you made.”
“Okay. I concede.” He kissed her, just a soft press of his lips at first. Then deeper when she pushed to her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. They made out, her fingers in his hair, his hands inching up her torso—
Until someone nearby cleared their throat.
They sprang apart as a woman with a small fluffy dog shuffled by. She offered a tight-lipped smile and quickened her pace.
“Now we’re scaring the neighbors,” Lily said with a giggle.
“Come home with me.”
She nodded before she thought about what he was asking. Going home with him was what she wanted most. “I… What about the party?”
“After the party.” His voice dropped into that low timbre she liked so much. “Let me take you to my bed.” He thumbed her bottom lip. “Let me show you all the ways I can make you come when you’re beneath me. And on top of me.”
She tried to find her voice. Impossible.
He smirked. “And in front of me, Lily.”
“Okay,” she sighed a moment before he kissed her again. It was short this time, and guaranteed not to make any passersby clutch their pearls.
“It’s cocktails and pastries,” he said. “How long can it last?”
An eternity.
Cocktails and pastries could apparently last until the dawn of a new fucking age.
Marcus’s cheeks were aching from the smile he’d been holding while talking to Reginald for the last forty-eight minutes. The man had been blathering on about… God. Marcus had no clue. He’d tuned him out ten minutes ago.
He stole a look over his shoulder at Lily, who was standing, wineglass in hand, with a smile on her face that looked as strained as his felt. Felicia London, who was talking with her hands and flashing a dozen or so carats of diamond jewelry on her fingers, was as skilled at dominating the conversation as her husband.
Lily offered a subtle eye roll and Marcus dipped his chin in agreement.
Clive had managed to avoid Marcus and Reginald both tonight. The jerk. He must’ve known that the polite guy loses when it came to indulging Reginald and his many stories on many topics. Marcus had been standing in this spot so long he wouldn’t have been surprised if ivy had begun growing up his legs.
Clive offered a wave as he strode by on his way to the bar for a refill. Marcus tuned in to the tail end of what Reginald was saying.
“…and mounted it in my den. Huge moose.” Reginald pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Big-ass moose, Marcus. You should see it sometime.”
He’d rather trade places with it at the moment.
“You know, Clive was telling me about a hunting trip he’d gone on in Alaska a few years ago,” Marcus lied. Clive, who’d been walking back with his full glass of wine, turned his head. Marcus caught him by the shoulder and steered him toward Reginald. “Tell Mr. London about the deer. Or was it rabbits?”
Reginald was grinning and watching Clive in anticipation.
“Hilarious. Wait’ll you hear it.” Marcus backed away as Clive said something about it “being a long time ago” and “fuzzy details.”
“I’ll let you two catch up,” Marcus said. “I’m going to use the facilities.”
