She was beside herself with curiosity, and overset with a surge of protectiveness at Harlow’s uncharacteristic uncertainty. On top of that, she was half crazed with the need to run to him and throw her arms around his neck and beg him to stop treating her like a stranger.
Oh, all right, that last one she’d been feeling all day. The whole tedious, tiresome travel day she’d been ready to crawl out of her skin with impatience.
She hated the way he wouldn’t look at her. And she hated it even more when he did look at her because there was now a distance there that had never been there before. Not when she’d made him angry with her ridiculous plan to kiss a stranger, and not after, when he’d forced her to leave London early.
It was the kiss’s fault, and that thought nearly undid her. Because for Jocelyn, that kiss hadn’t changed anything.
Or maybe…it had changed everything.
Certainly she’d never in her life imagined a kiss to be so breathtaking, so powerful, evoking at once a yearning sensation as well as a peaceful contentment that made her feel like she could happily spend the rest of her life in Harlow’s arms.
The thought brought heat flooding through her.
All day she’d refused to think too much about what that meant. She’d been content to wallow in the memory and relish the experience. But truly, when she’d fallen asleep last night, she couldn’t shake the feeling that his kiss had settled something inside it. It had felt rather like that moment when the perfect chess move presented itself.
Like a curtain parted and the sun shone through and—
“I’d best tell the cook to prepare something,” Rose said.
Her voice sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room, and Jocelyn blinked, her gaze clashing with Harlow’s as she wondered…
Just how long had they been standing there in silence?
Rose cast them each a curious look before heading off. The door was open, and servants bustled about. It would only be a matter of minutes before Liam and Rose returned.
And yet, for now…
“It seems we’re alone,” she said, her tone light, even as her heart slammed against her ribcage.
“So it seems,” he said, his tone just as light.
But he was acting…different. And she wasn’t sure if she hated or loved that he wasn’t looking at her as a friend or a little sister.
He was looking at her like a woman. A grown woman.
The woman he kissed last night.
She swallowed hard. “What is this talk of investors?”
His lips twitched a bit. “I should’ve known you’d want to be the first to know.”
She lifted a shoulder with a small smile, happy enough to go along with their usual teasing. It helped her to feel on slightly firmer footing, even if for a moment. “I’m nothing if not curious, you know that.”
“Mmm. Better than anyone, I suppose.” His eyes flashed with fire, and butterflies took flight in her belly.
He was thinking about their kiss, and she knew it. Sure enough, his gaze dipped to her lips before he dragged his gaze back up to meet hers. “I won’t be staying here long, Jo.”
She blinked, feeling for all the world like he’d just splashed her with cold water.
“I’ll stay in the country long enough to see this property and meet with the local investors I’d reached out to, but then I’ll be heading back to London.”
Her lips quivered and tears stung the back of her eyes. Which was so silly, she couldn’t stand it. She never cried. Certainly not over a man, and never in front of a man. Not in front ofanyone.
“You’re leaving because of me,” she said.
Oh drat, even her voice quivered, and she hated the sympathy she saw in his eyes. It was far too close to pity.
“Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t feel sorry for me and don’t you dare feel guilty.”