“Being of scientific interest to him is difficult enough. But to you? I couldn’t tolerate it.” He sighed, long and deep. “And yes, I am yours. For one more night, at least.”
She searched his face for signs of illness. He looked very tired. “Are you unwell?”
“I am fine. Promise me, Angelika, that you will never look in Victor’s files.”
The way he repeated it made her nod, though it hurt to be left out. “I can’t read his shorthand. He deliberately made it Jelly-proof. But even if I could, I would allow you your privacy. I know you haven’t had much.”
She traced her thumb down his throat and had a vivid flashback: asking Victor his opinion on the best way to reconnect these pounding arteries. They’d argued, insulted each other, roared with laughter, and she’d gotten on with it. It hit her anew. This breathing, blinking person was a miracle. This feeling of awe and appreciation was so overwhelming, all she could do to express it was to cup his cheek in her hand.
But he was looking up from her lap like he understood completely.
“You look beautiful today.”
“Did you miss having me around the house?” She grinned when he huffed in exasperation and sat up. “You actually noticed my absence and wished to gaze upon my beautiful face. Pray, tell me exactly how lonely and jealous you were. Did the minutes drip by like treacle?”
“You are prone to overexcitement.” He was gruff but smiling as she put a knee over his lap and sat on him. Inches apart, they regarded each other as the fire crackled and the world faded away. His expression grew serious again as he ran his thumb down her jawline. “I cannot imagine ever preferring another face to yours.”
“I feel the same.”
“Please know that you are more than beauty. You’re... energy.”
It was the best compliment Angelika had ever received. Her eyes filled with tears and her throat closed up, preventing any reply.
He continued.
“I watched from the window as you rode up to the door. You tipped this perfect face up to the moon and I’d never seen you as happy as that moment. You were free of the worry and sadness that you feel whenever you are with me. And yes, I amhiring people for you and trying to address some maintenance issues of this old house so that you can live easy. This is all I can do for you, and you should let me.”
“Before you leave?” When she blinked, tears overflowed. She knew the answer.
“Before I find out what my next chapter is.” He tilted his head, watching the tears run down her face. “Believe me, Angelika, I wish the rest of my story could be written with you.”
In spite of the tears on her cheeks, she replied flippantly. “I’m sure there’s enough projects at Larkspur Lodge to occupy you for the next fifty years. It has a very overgrown rose garden, riddled with thorns, but there are some rare varieties. It needs someone hardworking.” Hope flared when she saw that the prospect tempted him.
“I thought it was Lizzie’s wedding gift,” Will reminded her.
“I was trying to play our make-believe game. The place in our imagination where we can be together, forever.”
She tried unsuccessfully for a kiss.
He wiped her tears with his thumb.
“Did Christopher tell you about his life?” When she nodded yes, he continued: “His childhood? A few terrifically funny things that have happened around the academy? What he likes and is good at? How many times he presses his shirt in the morning?” Will put his mouth on her throat. She anticipated a bite, but only gentleness followed.
“Yes, he told me all sorts of things. But I only thought of you.” Guilt pinched; several times this afternoon, she had only thought of herself.
In between kisses on her pulse, Will finished: “He is everything I want to be: A single, independent man of good standing. An uncomplicated being who knows himself. He is a good match for you, and he intends to find out all about me at this dinner.”
“Tell him to mind his own business. More,” she begged, and she felt his mouth smile on her skin.
“I will not have a single answer to any of the questions he will ask me. He will be inquiring with colleagues and acquaintances, attempting to find out who this mysterious stranger is at Blackthorne Manor. I will be gossiped about and closer to being exposed. I may have to leave quickly. You will need to prepare yourself for any possibility.”
“We’ll cancel it. I don’t know why Victor is planning this.”
“He’s doing this to push me toward a decision,” Will said, shifting her off his lap. He laid Angelika down on the chaise and tucked the blanket around her. “Maybe I can endure the dinner, remembering that you look at me like this.”
She bit her lip. “Yes.”
“And you want me like this.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth. She managed one taste of his skin, just one scrape and lick, before he retreated with a groan in his throat.