My Merry Marquess (Wallflower's Christmas Wish #3) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,19

intentionally? Were you that eager to relegate me to your past?” Eve fixed her attention on the apples as she spoke, slicing off the skin with jerky movements.

“God, no. I had no idea.” His hand settled on her waist and his breath caressed the skin behind her ear. “Something snapped when I heard that you’d gone. I don’t understand it myself, but I… panicked.”

Eve fought the urge to lean back against him. Was this what she’d been craving all night long? Was this what had kept her awake?

In London, he’d spoken to her of marriage and of making a family. “What did you do while you were on the Continent?” What did all handsome gentlemen do when they went to Paris? Picturing him kissing elegant Parisian women, imagining him touching them the way he’d touched her, made her slightly ill. How many women had he been with since the two of them had parted? How many women had he professed to love?

“My God, Eve!” Nicholas stiffened behind her.

Eve stared at her hands through a fog. Scarlet drops of blood dripped all over her freshly cut apples from a large gash she’d sliced through her palm. Black rimmed her vision when her nostrils caught the coppery scent of it.

She’d never handled blood with much dignity. She blinked and thought to speak but no words emerged. The last thing she remembered was Nicholas removing the knife from her as her knees crumpled and the floor rushed up to meet her.

Chapter 6

One minute Nick was prepared to profess his love to Eve again, and the next he was carefully lowering her limp form to the floor.

He kneeled beside her, brushing her hair away from her face, “Eve.” By now, the blood was soaking into her apron and gown. Grasping a nearby kitchen linen, he wound it around her hand and then leaned over her again, this time, gently touching her cheeks.

“Eve, love. Come back to me.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and then drew back as her lashes fluttered.

“I’m sorry. Stupid of me.”

“My fault. I shouldn’t have distracted you.” He put one arm around her shoulder to steady her as she pushed herself up. “Good girl. Easy now.”

“The knife slipped.” She glanced down at where the blood had soaked her dress and swayed slightly.

“Don’t look at it.” Nick tucked her face into his chest. “Before coming to see you, I knew you might want to draw blood, but I imagined it would be mine.”

When she responded with a small cry, he tipped her chin up so that he could meet her gaze. “I must be losing my touch. I could always get you to laugh before.”

This did manage to evoke a very tiny little chuckle. She squirmed but allowed him to assist her to her feet. “I need to finish my pie.”

“Not with that hand, you won’t.” Happy for any excuse to have his hands on her, he lifted her so that she was sitting on a clear spot on the worktable and took hold of her hands. “This needs cleaning and wrapped properly.” He flicked his eyes up and met her stare. “Look at me, rather than your hand. Or, if you find my mug offensive, try the ceiling.” He wet another clean linen and focused on the cut. The bleeding had slowed but not halted completely.

“I ate. I drank, mostly. I gambled at night and in the day, I visited all the important spots.” He picked up their conversation in order to take her mind off of the blood.

She took a moment to respond. “In France?”

“And Belgium.” All the while he dabbed at the wound, he felt her watching him closely.

“Did you… take a companion with you… to these important spots?”

Nick was relieved that she hadn’t sent him away already. It was a wonder she was speaking to him at all.

Not for the first time, a hefty wave of guilt swept through him.

“Not really. I spent a few months in the mountains. Hiking alone, mostly. I dabbled at some painting.” Nick tucked the linen into itself so that the bandage he’d affected wouldn’t come undone. “The wilderness seemed to lift me out of my self-pity. It soothed my soul more than the cities.” He swallowed hard at the memory. He’d found more healing there than anywhere else.

Eve glanced over at her apples. “I need to finish cutting them. If I don’t, they’ll go bad, and we already throw away far too much food.” She went to slide off the