Page 40 of Redemption

Whoever inflicted this distress will suffer for it. She’ll give me a name eventually. I’ll coax it out of her once the color returns to her cheeks.

“Breathe, Abigail.” I don’t like that she’s so wary around me. I have to calm her down and make sure she knows she’s safe with me. “Just breathe.”

Pleasure suffuses my chest when she obeys.

“Why do you call me that?” she asks when she exhales.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

She gestures at her name badge that’s pinned to her apron. “Everyone calls me Abby.”

The fact that she doesn’t remember our initial meeting grates at me, but I manage a charming smile. “I suppose I’m still a bit more formal than the locals. Bad habit from back home.”

I don’t tell her that I’m the only one who will call herAbigail.That privilege is mine and mine alone.

“You’re from England, right?” she asks.

I nod. We’ve never spoken about my accent at the café. I’m happy to share more personal information with her now, even if the topic is a bit mundane.

“From York originally. The old York.”

“Oh. What brought you to South Carolina?”

My smile turns indulgent. These are topics to cover on our date later.

“You don’t have to make small talk with me, Abigail.” I savor her name on my tongue. “How are you feeling?”

She blinks. “Better, thanks.”

She seems almost surprised.

“Good. Are you feeling well enough to go out to dinner with me tonight?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” I say with teasing admonishment. “Have dinner with me.”

Her refusal isn’t an option, so I don’t bother to soften the command into a question this time.

My fingers tighten on her shoulder ever so slightly, and I barely suppress the urge to pull her closer.

Her willowy body goes rigid, and her eyes slide out of focus again.

Fuck.

Who upset her so deeply that she’s completely distracted from the intense connection we share? The one I sealed last night when she came all over my gloved hand?

She reels back, breaking free of my careful hold on her shoulder.

“I can’t,” she blurts, gaze cutting away from mine. “I’m sorry.”

“Abigail!” I call after her, but she’s already ducking back into the café.

I rake a hand through my hair.

What the hell just happened?

11

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