Page 67 of House of Thorns
She glanced up, then nodded.
He was behaving quite the gentleman. Why didn’t he catch her about the waist and back her against an alley wall as he had their last meeting? Heavens, did he notseethey stood near a forest?
“And how goes the preparations for the concert?” he asked politely.
“Well. Very well.”Kiss me, Nicholas. Hard.This time, she’d kiss him back, unfettered by a guilty conscience.
“And Florinda?”
The woman’s name felt like a dash of cold water. “The woman has the voice of an angel,” Olivia replied. “I heard her practicing when I arrived at her hotel with the contract.”
“That is well, then.”
Olivia faltered and then faced him. “You’ve done so much. The roof. Flor—”
“Hush,” Nicholas murmured. He dropped the horse’s reins to lay a finger on her lips.
The mere touch of his skin on hers made her want so very much. As if possessed, she parted her lips.
Nicholas’s expression altered. His lashes lowered, half covering his eyes. Then, slowly, he inserted his fingertip between her lips and over her tongue.
Olivia held her breath.
“Soon,” he said, his voice low, gruff, as he dropped his hand.
Soon? The word made her pulse leap.
Clearing his throat, he stepped back to retrieve his horse before offering his arm once again. “Mr. Pitt? How far?”
“Just over the bridge,” she replied.
“Then, let us hurry, shall we? I’m of a mind to indulge in other things far more pleasant than the company of Mr. Pitt.”
Other things. Pleasant ones. Olivia drew a long, silent breath. She could hardly wait.
* * *
Mr. Pitt was displeased with both the money and Nicholas’s presence by her side. It was clear he’d envisioned a far different ending to her predicament. Upon hearing the news that Florinda, the Lark of Paris, would be singing, he grinned, switching at once from lecher to a man of business.
“Well, this turned out fortunate, indeed,” he said for the fourth time as he escorted them to the door. “Mostfortunate. A wise investment. I knew you’d surprise me, lass. The Lark of Paris in the Theatre Royale.” He wagged his head from side to side.
“The rehearsals start tomorrow,” Nicholas announced.
“Indeed, my lord. Now we’ve a real concert here, I’ll have the lads prepare the stage right quick.”
“See that all is ready,” Nicholas continued.
“Indeed, my lord.” Mr. Pitt bobbed up and down. “Indeed, I shall, and right quick.”
Olivia shook her head in wonder as they stepped out into the street. She cast a glance over her shoulder, looking up at the Theatre Royale rising so majestically behind her. In two weeks, Glasgow would finally hear her father’s music.
Tingles of pleasure zipped down her spine.
Smiling, she turned back to Nicholas. “The meeting with Mr. Pitt was far less trying than I’d feared. I must thank you for coming.”
He stood at her side, one corner of his mouth crooked. “My pleasure, I assure you.” He caught her hand and brushed it against his lips.
The gesture reminded her of the ‘other things’ he’d promised. Her breath hitched.
