Page 29 of One Wicked Secret
She met his gaze, seeing the handsome man she wanted to devour. The husband she wanted to love. The dear friend she had lost six months ago. The man who’d foolishly thought leaving her would save her, not knowing she’d been slowly dying inside.
How will you ever trust him?came the voice of reason.
How would he trust her?
They were no longer the same people. Fate had seen to that.
The dream was gone.
Her knees buckled but he caught her, firming his hand on the small of her back as he pulled her tight to his body.
“Keep dancing,” he said, twirling her around in time to the imagined music, his breath quickening, his thighs brushing hers, his gaze dipping to where her breasts were squashed against his chest.
Desire unfurled deep in her belly.
The world outside the dance faded into the ether.
It was just them, fused together as one, their bodies so close the cavernous distance that had grown between them felt non-existent.
A silent tear slid down her cheek, the beauty of themoment so overwhelming it hurt. What would life be like if they’d married for love?
Daniel stopped dancing but didn’t release her. “You have every right to feel sad, but it kills me to see you like this.” He wiped the droplet away, though more tears fell. “We cannot fix what’s broken. The damage is done. There is only one way forward.”
Fear squeezed the air from her lungs.
Was this where he suggested a legal separation?
“What is that?”
“We must decide if we want to begin again.”
She swallowed, the lump in her throat easing somewhat. “You mean whether we can rekindle our friendship?”
“Whether we can be more than friends. You don’t need to decide now. But permit me to give you something to ponder.” Daniel captured her chin, his gaze tender as he bent his head slowly, giving her time to retreat.
She didn’t.
“Don’t be afraid.” He brushed his mouth over hers, soft and slow. A chaste kiss, so simple it sparked a desperate hope that this might be a beautiful beginning, not a tragic end.
She felt the subtle shift in the pressure of his lips, a silent invitation to something more. But he released her, doing what he promised, not pressing his advances.
While her lips tingled and her heart pounded, he smiled and captured her hand. “It’s cold. Don’t stay out here too long.” The brush of his mouth over her knuckles was almost her undoing. “Good night, Elsa.”
And then he was gone.
Chapter Six
They had spent the last two nights at Edenberry, creeping through the rooms with their oil lamps aloft, making sure Magnus hadn’t missed a vital clue before they widened their search.
Her father’s journal wasn’t hidden under the beds or at the bottom of a blanket box or armoire. The book wasn’t tucked beneath the lid of the Broadwood grand piano or concealed inside the dusty suit of armour in the hall. They had checked every curtain lining and tapped on floorboards to ensure none were hollow.
Now, on this their third night playing investigators, Elsa teetered on the top rung of the library ladder, scanning all the blue books on the highest shelf, praying for a clue so they might see their beds before dawn.
“Do you see anything like the book your father had in the hothouse?” Daniel said, keeping a firm grip on the ladder so she wouldn’t fall. “The top shelf would be a sensible place to hide one.”
“Green covers look blue in the dim light.” She scannedthe gold lettering on the spines, squinting to read the titles. “These are my mother’s novels. Father insisted she kept them out of sight.”
“Come down, though mind your step. Let’s think about this logically.”
