Page 42 of Earl for the Summer
“Why aren’t you coming?” she whispered. “Please. Hurry. I must speak to you.”
Cassian approached and knew the ridiculous smile was still on his face. A smile that seemed to go bone deep. All of him felt lighter, almost buoyant, now that she was near.
As soon as he was close enough, she reached out and clasped his arm, pulling him along.
“This way,” she said quietly, then turned, still gripping his sleeve as she led him into Hillcrest’s library.
Once they’d entered the room, she released his arm and spun to face him.
His mouth went dry. Good grief, she was lovely.
The low gaslight in the room cast a warm glow that lit the blue of her eyes and the burnished gold of her hair. She wore a peacock blue gown with enormous sleeves that accentuated the curve of her waist, and he wanted to wrap an arm around those curves and pull her closer.
For a moment, she stood gazing at him, letting him drink in the sight of her.
As his smile faded, something more potent made his breath quicken. “You’re here,” he said dumbly because it seemed to be all his brain could manage.
“And you wish I wasn’t, I presume. I need you to know that I’ve told Lily and Griffin nothing,” she said, her tone low but intense. “As far as they know, I’ve never met you, so that’s how you must behave when we’re introduced.”
Cassian nodded. “I understand.”
“I detest lying to them. I wish we could be done with lies.”
“I do too, Daphne.”
Something flickered in her eyes. A warmth that made that ember in his chest flare.
“I should go back to the drawing room,” she said and then began to move past him.
He reached for her, brushing his fingers along the warm, soft skin of her arm. He held her gently.
She didn’t pull away.
This close, he could tell her breath was racing too. And when she dropped her gaze to his lips, it shot a warm flash of pleasure through him.
“Daphne.” He’d meant to say more, but it felt so damned good to simply say her name.
“Cassian,” she whispered in return.
The sound of his name on her lips made him want to drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness for being such an ass back in London.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he rasped, the rawest truth.
She lifted a palm to his chest. She wore no gloves, and he had the mad thought that he wanted to be bare, out of Julian’s too-tailored evening suit, so he could feel her skin against his.
“Your heart is racing, Captain Rourke,” she said quietly. “So I believe you, though I didn’t think you’d be pleased to see me.”
And just like that, he was smiling again. “There has not been a moment since the day I met you that I wasn’t pleased to see you, Miss Bridewell.”
“Nevertheless, you must pretend tonight is the first time we’ve ever met.” She bit her bottom lip, and a need like he’d never felt in his life speared through him.
Good grief, how had he thought he could walk away from this woman and go on living his life as if she’d never left her mark on him?
“Can you do that?” she asked, pressing lightly on his chest.
Cassian laid a hand over hers where she touched him. “I can if you wish it.”
With a nod, she pulled her hand away gently. “I should go back.”
