pure stupidity flies from my mouth. The sight of you in that golden dress makes my toes numb. I want to send Monsieur Falle roses, I’m so grateful.”
She laughed, and he did too, a rich unguarded laugh that made her insides flip. “You see?” he said. “Pure, unmitigated stupidity.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled in mirth, and she laughed again. “Then I shall save you from yourself,” she said. “I am appeased. Speak no more of my beauty and spare yourself further humiliation.”
She touched his hand lightly. The smile on his lips wavered and fell. His eyes went to her hand on his, and a shuddering sigh passed over his long frame. Miranda drew back as though burned, but he continued to blink down at his hand resting upon the game board.
“Archer, what is it?” Her fingers curled closed. “Are you ill?” she whispered as the flat planes of his chest rose and fell.
“Ill?” he choked out with a sudden laugh. His gaze reached as far as her lips before he froze again, and his mouth trembled. He looked off into the fire. “Is need an illness?” he muttered as though to himself. “I suppose it is.”
“Archer,” she said sharply, for his strange attitude began to nettle her. Her insides fluttered, sensing the coming of a storm.
As though breaking from a tether, his head snapped up, and the breath left her body as she saw what was laid bare in his eyes.
“Miri.”
One word, only her name, and yet it told her all she need know, of his pain, his desire. Of what he was asking. She pushed away from the table, not knowing where she was going, only that she needed to move.
“We’ve both done so well at keeping our distance, haven’t we?” she said as he stood and stalked her. But she wanted him, so much so that her arms shook with the need to hold him.
He tried to touch her cheek, and she shifted away. “And are you happy?” he asked softly.
Happy? Perhaps. Satisfied? No. Tears burned behind her eyes, and she took an unsteady breath. “Why now, Archer?”
Need tightened his mouth and left his expression raw. “Because today I truly realized that I could lose you in an instant.” He took a small step toward her. “That life was not a long road that stretched before me, but here and now. And the thought of spending one more day, one more breath without knowing the feel of you in my arms has become too much to bear.”
Suddenly his hand was cupping the back of her neck, pulling her to him, his mouth soft and warm upon hers. She nearly groaned from the pleasure of it.
“I want you, Miri,” he whispered into her mouth. He pushed her against the door, the starched linen of his shirt crushing into her bodice as his tongue delved between her lips.
She moaned and clutched his lapels as he kissed her with deep, slow kisses that made her knees weaken.
“Beyond reason, I want you…” His free hand skimmed her waist, easing down to her hip. “You want me too.”
“Yes.” Beyond reason.
Again he stroked her, softening his kiss, and she sighed and tugged at his jacket to feel the hard muscles shifting beneath.
He pulled away a fraction. “The lights.”
Miranda broke the kiss, and he looked back, pleading for understanding. A spark of anger ignited in her breast. “You want me,” she whispered, a lump rising in her throat. “Yet you will not reveal yourself to me.”
He flinched and averted his eyes. “No.”
“No,” she repeated. She moved to go.
He grabbed hold of her shoulder and pressed his forehead to hers. They were still for a moment, his breath fanning her face. “Please, Miri. I’ve lived a lifetime of regrets. If I could have this any other way… I need you.” As if unable to stop himself, he kissed her again, tender kisses that melted her defenses. “Miri…”
His kisses consumed her. She tore her mouth away to clear her head, and Archer went still.
Each tick of the mantel clock sounded like a gong within her ears. The desolation in his expression cut into her. In truth, she needed him too. She was damned tired of denying her wants. But there were other things to consider. Fire, destruction, loss. “I’m afraid.”
The corners of his eyes tightened. “Of me.”
“No!” Miranda’s fingers curled over his lapels to keep him close. “Of myself. Of losing control.” It hurt to say, hurt to meet his eyes. She found only tenderness lingering