And though the books had distracted her, so had Epworth. He’d removed his coat once he had to bend to get to the lower shelves and Miranda had been engrossed by the linen shirt stretched over his shoulders and around his biceps, as well as the view of his bottom when he bent over. Rarely had she been in a position to admire a gentlemanly form. Why, there wasn’t an ounce of excess on his being. Even his buttocks appeared muscular, and so did his thighs, if the pull of his trousers were any indication.
Goodness, it was getting warm in here.
It was really a shame that they weren’t suited because it would be quite delightful to gaze upon him whenever she wished.
Heat scorched her cheeks and Miranda quickly focused back on the task at hand. A proper miss would not be thinking of such. And she blamed her mother for her wayward thoughts.
That woman had shielded her daughters from nothing. Not only had she taken more lovers than Miranda could count, and made no secret about it, but she’d explained, in more detail than Miranda ever cared to know, exactly what men and women did in the privacy of a bedchamber.
For years, Miranda had put those discussions from her mind, but it was impossible not to recall what she’d learned when watching Epworth. Even his neck was strong, which she could now view as he’d discarded his cravat. And those hands…She shook the thoughts from her mind. She wasn’t wanton and she wasn’t anything like her mother. Lust would never rule her.
Only one more shelf, the top one and then they’d be done. Or this section would be complete and then she could help Epworth with what remained. And even though she now stood on a chair, Miranda still had to go up on her tiptoes to reach the remaining books. She wasn’t all that short, really. Even Epworth had difficulty reaching the top shelf though he hadn’t needed the use of a chair.
Quit thinking of him! she chastised herself.
With a deep breath, Miranda grabbed a thick red book from the end, prepared for the heaviness of the volume and instantly knew that it was a false book because it was far too light. As she came down on her heels, quicker than she anticipated, she lost her balance and took a step back, her foot slipping from the end of the chair. With a squeak, she tried to right herself but it was not to be and as she fell, Miranda anticipated a very unpleasant fall and prepared herself for impact, only to land in Epworth’s arms.
“I’ve got you.”
Goodness, this was a much more pleasant landing than she had anticipated.
In fact, she quite liked being held by him, one of his arms beneath her knees and the other supporting her back.
“Thank you.” She turned to look at him, their faces barely inches apart.
Their eyes locked.
“Yes…well…we can’t have you injured now can we.”
Miranda was unable to look away. “No. I suppose not.” Why was her voice so airy all of a sudden? Had the fall stolen her breath, and was that the reason her pulse now sped?
“Here, let me set you down. I’ll get the books on the top. It’s safer for you on the…”
In an instant they were both falling with Epworth going backwards, Miranda still in his arms until they landed quickly and hard.
For a moment, Miranda was too stunned to move, even though she was sprawled upon his person. As she began to disengage herself and to make certain Epworth was uninjured, he tightened his arm around her back. She lifted her head. “Are you injured?”
“No.” Then he laughed.
“Are you certain?” How could he be laughing at a time like this?
“Very certain.” Then his other hand came about the back of her head and before Miranda knew what was happening, his lips were on hers.
She sighed. Oh, this was delightful indeed and she didn’t even attempt to pull away. Instead, she relaxed, enjoying the cushion of his body beneath hers. Despite his muscular form, Epworth was quite pleasant to lie upon, and oh, his kisses were just as bone melting and delicious as they’d been three months ago.
In a twist, Epworth rolled and in an instant Miranda was beneath him, which she enjoyed very much. As his kiss deepened, Miranda threaded her fingers through his thick hair, holding him close.
Maybe he did still care.
Her heart soared. Perhaps all was not lost, and did it really matter that