Page 45 of Earl for the Summer
“So you’ve been influenced by the ladies in your family.” Men so often looked to their father’s example. Daphne couldn’t help but be charmed by the fact that he’d taken up his mother’s and grandmother’s interest.
She smiled at him, but he’d grown suddenly serious.
“Perhaps I’m wrong,” he said as he looked out on the flowerless garden. “I suspect it’s not the pain of remembering my mother that’s caused Julian to let the garden go, but the influence of our father.”
Daphne laughed lightly. “He opposed flowers?”
“He was a joyless, cruel man and was determined that those around him should be the same.”
Daphne couldn’t help but reach for his hand. “That’s dreadful.”
For a moment, he simply looked down at her fingers over his, then he turned his hand so that their palms met.
“I didn’t tell you that as a bid for sympathy.” He flashed a smile. “Only as an explanation for this bleak landscape you see before you.”
“Sympathy isn’t the only reason I reached for your hand.” Somehow, here alone with him in the moonlight, she felt bold.
“No?”
“I’ve wanted…”
He leaned closer. “What did you want?”
“To s-speak to you.”
He lifted their joined hands and placed a kiss against her skin. “I’ve wanted that too,” he murmured. “And to touch you.” He swept his thumb across her skin as he spoke.
That simple caress made her gasp because it caused a shiver to race down her spine. She’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted to kiss him again, to be in his arms again.
“Shall we walk?” she whispered.
He mistook her question as discomfort at his admission and immediately released her.
“Oh, I…” she began.
But he was already standing, gesturing toward the hedge maze. “It’s a simple design, and I think the moonlight will sufficiently light the paths.”
“Yes, let’s walk,” she told him.
They started off, walking side by side. He didn’t take her arm, and she was hesitant to take his.
“Why are you happy I’m here?” she asked softly.
He chuckled, then shot her a look that made her swallow hard. “You know exactly why.”
“Do I?” she said, determined to spark some reaction in him. “In London, you seemed so determined to send me off to find some moredeservingman.”
As they stepped into the maze, he strode a bit faster until was several steps ahead of her.
“Cassian.” He stopped the moment she spoke his name, but he didn’t turn to face her.
Daphne approached, her boots crunching on gravel, closing the distance between them.
“Why are you not a deserving man?” she whispered.
She laid a hand on his back, feeling the muscles shift and ripple, relishing how the heat of his body warmed her palm. “Or perhaps you don’t feel for me?—”
He turned before she could finish, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close. Daphne braced her hands on his chest. His breath came fast and his stubbled cheek brushed hers as he dipped his head.
