Page 90 of Halstead House

I nodded and bit my now dry lips. “I, uh...” I cleared the lump from my throat. “I don’t think my superiors will allow that.”

“I see.”

She closed her eyes again, and I was grateful. I couldn’t look her in the eye and not burst into tears. What was I going to do? Lucas and I were progressing and I was falling out of twitterpation and into love with him, but neither of us had broached the subject of my imminent departure. More than anything I wanted him to ask me to stay, but I wouldn’t bring the subject up myself. He had so many people clamoring for him to do their bidding; I wouldn’t be on the list. At the same time, I berated myself for not being honest with him about the fact that I’d stay in a heartbeat if he asked.

I suddenly stood, unable to sit for another minute as the anxiety rushed through my body. “I think I’ll get changed out of this suit. Do you need anything else?” I managed to meet Eliza’s eyes.

Her expression was one of kind understanding, and it nearly made me cry the tears I was attempting to blink away. “I’m fine. Go get comfortable and have a nice night off.”

“I will. You too.” I grabbed my chair and hurried away as fast as I could.

I hustled into the house with still wet feet, my arms wrapped around the chair, my business shoes forgotten by the fountain. The warm grass did a lot to dry my soles before I reached the steps leading up to the conservatory door, but there were still footprints on the cement as I climbed.

I loved Lucas, this I knew. I also knew—or at least thought I knew—that if he loved me back, truly, we could overcome the geographical distance between us. But, and this is where the devastation came in, for all I knew that love was one-sided. Sure, he kissed me, and held my hand, and told me I was beautiful. I knew he enjoyed my company, and I loved that he took off his society mask when we were together. Yet, there had been no declarations made by either of us. As far as I knew, this was a fun summer romance for him and life would go back to normal when I headed home. Did thirty-two-year-old men have summer flings? Another thing I didn’t know.

It felt like a physical relief when I set down the chair in the ballroom and made my way to the elevator, where the doors closed me in to the cozy little box. I took a loud, deep breath and pushed it out equally loudly. I rotated my shoulders and head, wiggled my limbs, and willed my thoughts to calm. I was being ridiculous. I would handle this in a much more professional, analytical, logical way. I had been raised to avoid so much emotion. I could go back to that place and take a look at things from that head space.

My room was a welcome respite from the day. I changed out of my business suit and into a loose top and shorts. My bare feet were silent as I walked across the carpet to the dormer window that overlooked the entire island. I took a few moments to pull myself back together.

Yes, I was trying to come out of my cocoon, but that didn’t mean I needed to abandon all aspects of my former self. There was value in being professional, hard-working, dedicated, selfless, and logical. There was a place in my new life for parts of the old me that had served me well. I drew on those parts of me now, and felt comforted as a cool reserve slid into place. I could think now.

A knock on my bedroom door pulled me from my thoughts. I knew that knock and wasted no time in answering it. I swung the door open and was greeted by the face and smile of the person I most loved in the world. A wave of tenderness washed over me, the tingles racing up my back as I took it all in. I hurried to put my arms around him and buried my face against him. My mouth pressed up against his neck, my nose against his jaw, and I inhaled his scent, tasting his warmth with my lips. I said his name on a light breath.

His arms came around me with no reservation, his palms flat on my back, pressing me against him. I felt his head rotate so that he could press a kiss on my temple.

“This is a nice way to be greeted.” I could feel the vibrations of his low voice against my cheek, and it caused goosebumps to rise.

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Instead I moved my hands from his neck and into his hair, turning his head to meet mine. The kiss was electric in a way that the others had only hinted at. I heard him make a sound as one of his arms raced out to steady us against the door frame.

“Grace?” He pulled away from me, confused.

“Please, Lucas,” was all I said as I pulled him back to where I wanted him.

His argument ended, and he lifted me off my feet to carry me further into the room so that he could close the door behind him, never breaking the kiss. I appreciated the effort toward privacy, as I was basically mauling him in the hallway.

All the emotion I’d been painstakingly burying for the past hour zinged to life at the feel of him, real and warm, against me. All the things I couldn’t say coursed through me and passed on to him. I knew he could feel it, because I felt the loosening of control on his end too. He kissed me in a way he hadn’t before, and I understood that even though I’d asked him to kiss me fully that night at the Warehouse, he’d still been holding back.

Annoyance, along with a sense of challenge, banked the flames higher, and I moved from his lips to scatter kisses over his jaw, his neck, his cheeks, until he finally pulled me in and tucked my head under his. I struggled for a moment, but it was fruitless. His strength far surpassed mine.

“Grace,” he whispered, and I relaxed as he skimmed large hands up and down my spine, soothing us both. “I wish I could see what’s happening in your head right now.”

“I leave in ten days,” I replied. He must have heard the bruised quality in my voice because he stopped caressing me and pulled me impossibly closer.

“That soon?” He sounded as dazed as I’d felt, and I was glad.

“Eliza told me that today’s luncheon was my last event.” I felt tears spring to my eyes as I said the words out loud. I cleared my throat and swallowed.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“How do you feel about going back?” he asked. Finally, maybe we would get somewhere. I silently begged him to ask me to stay.

“I feel a lot of things.”

This time his head bobbed up and down. “I’ll bet.”

That was it? No, ‘please stay, Grace’? I sighed for perhaps the millionth time. I had no right to be angry with him when I couldn’t say the words myself.

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