The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,85
returned to his room grudgingly. It had changed since he’d seen it last. It was cold. A room and a bed for a man who’d needed little else. Now it felt like his purpose was in the next room.
Impatient to return to her—and still decidedly hungry—he paced while he waited for his trunk to be brought over. Finally, a rap on the door ended his misery. He performed his ablutions quickly and donned a new set of clothes, then gave his boots a cursory wipe with an old polish rag and set back for Elizabeth’s door.
This time, she answered it herself. It took all his control not to gather her in a tender embrace and cover her lips with a sweet good morning kiss. He would stop to wonder at this sudden rush of feeling, but it was too heady, and her gray eyes too soft and adoring, for him to want to ruin it with an exploration of why.
“Good morning.” His voice sounded rough. Was he nervous? Ridiculous. Yesterday he hadn’t even wanted to talk to her. What a difference her yielding to him made. “Have you taken breakfast?”
“They brought it up earlier. I imagine you were still asleep.” Her eyes twinkled. She knew he’d been, because she’d left him sprawled across the narrow mattress, the minx.
“I’m not quite awake even now,” he admitted. In fact, he’d very much like to slide under the covers with her…
She made a moue. “Is my lord a slugabed?”
“Until I’ve had my morning dish of coffee, yes.” He attempted to peer around her. “You wouldn’t by chance have a leftover slice of toast?”
“If we did, it would be an impenetrable crust by now. Perhaps you should take your breakfast downstairs in the main room while we complete our packing.”
The thought of leaving her again, and while she toiled no less, didn’t sit right with him. “Why don’t you join me and I’ll have one of the maids sent up to help Mrs. Dalton.”
Elizabeth’s features seemed to soften even more, until her adoration transformed into a glowing approval that made him feel both ten feet tall and terrified at the same time.
What was he doing?
She apprised Mrs. Dalton of their plans while he kicked his heels in the hallway. Then she stepped out with him, drew the door closed behind her and looked up into his eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly, and came onto her tiptoes to brush a kiss along his jaw. That sweet gesture stole his heart, for finally, finally, she’d appreciated him, instead of seizing back control.
He offered her his arm and led her to the carpeted stair. When they came to the first landing, she laughed, a giddy, delightful sound, and he raised a brow in question. She shook her head. “I don’t recall any of this, though we must have come by here on the way to your room.”
Her bold way of speaking should have cemented her place in his head as less than a lady. Instead, he’d grown inured to her frank language. His Lady Elizabeth had a brazen way of speaking. He liked it.
It didn’t hurt that he didn’t remember any of the wall hangings or polished banisters, either. The red carpet runner beneath their feet might as well have been rolled out that morning. “I fear my memory isn’t what it used to be, either,” he said, looking to continue her easy, flirtatious tone. “I can hardly recall anything from last night at all.”
She tapped his hand playfully. “Then I shall have to help you remember. Where would you like me to start? I have it etched in my mind quite clearly.”
He stopped one step lower on the stair than she and turned to her. He took her mouth in a deep, languid kiss. She smelled like flowers and baby and buttered toast. She kissed him back with the same fervency he felt, even lifting her hands to his hair and cupping both sides of his head until he had a mind to turn them around and let breakfast become a distant thought.
But he pulled back. Despite being breathless, glassy-eyed, and hard as a rock, he couldn’t take her back to his room. He’d feel sordid. Actually, now that the moment had passed and she was watching him with inquisitiveness and that same hopeful worship he’d waited so long to see, he felt rather like a cad for accosting her on the stair where any passerby might have seen.