Page 50 of A Most Unlikely Lady
The solid wood supporting her suddenly disappeared, and she fell backwards onto the floor. Her upper half was lying in the hallway while her legs were still in her room. The kitten hissed, leapt from her belly, and skittered down the hall.
Edward stood above her, the tray of hot coffee in his hand. ‘A kitten.’
Scrambling to her feet, her chignon irrevocably destroyed, cheeks flaming, skin no doubt blotching like strawberries squished on a porcelain plate, Ivy searched desperately for something to say. Anything that wouldn’t make her sound like an utter cake. ‘Err, yes. That is my kitten.’
‘Did you fall? Are you well?’
‘I’m fine. I was sitting on the floor already so…’
Because that’s what any young lady does after nearly kissing a man in his bedroom. She scurries away and sits ever so demurely on her floor with a kitten purring on her belly.
‘Ah. Well. You forgot something.’
‘I, err, yes. My hot chocolate. Thank you.’
I am the biggest fool in all the land.
Edward tipped his head in the direction of her open door. ‘Shall I just…?’
It would be petty of her to wrestle the tray away from him so he couldn’t enter her room. After all, she’d been in his bedroom. What harm could come of letting him into hers if only to deposit the tray and then leave?
Ivy nodded her head in jerky movements and motioned to the desk. A much neater version than Edward’s with her lists neatly stacked in organised piles.
‘You can put it there.’
How odd to have a man in her room. Her earlier wonderings came back to haunt her.
I have aninvitedvisitor. Though really, I only asked him in to be polite. And get my chocolate. Not because Iwanthim in my room.
It was no use. She had always been dreadful at telling lies.
Good gracious. I do want him in my room.
The space seemed much smaller than moments before as she followed him to her desk. She didn’t realise she was hovering until Edward turned around after depositing the tray and nearly crashed into her. His large hands gripped her arms to steady her.
Don’t look up. If you look up, you’ll be lost in those eyes. You’ll stare at his mouth. He’ll know. He’ll know what you’re thinking.
She looked up. And lost herself in his eyes. Stared at his firm lips. And saw the flash in his gaze the moment he knew. He knew what she was thinking.
‘Ivy—’
‘I think I’d like you to kiss me,’ she blurted.
Edward took a deep breath, his gaze searching. ‘Do you think it, or do you know?’ He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her bicep, and even through the thin cotton sleeve of her dress, she felt the spark of friction.
‘I know.’ Tilting her chin up, she refused to break eye contact. She would not let fear stop her. Because greater than her fear was a desire to finally understand. To experience the sensation of Edward’s lips pressing against her own.
‘Well, thank God for that.’
Slowly, so she had ample time to pull back, Edward lowered his head closer to hers. He never looked away. In her limited experience of watching people kiss and be kissed, they always closed their eyes. But he was watching her so closely, Ivy’s heart fluttered madly. His pupils dilated, nearly swallowing the dark-blue irises. His mouth hovered a moment away from hers.
‘You smell like Jamaican spice.’
Oh, God. I said that. Out loud. Idiot!
He froze, the skin around his eyes crinkling in a smile. ‘Do you like Jamaican spice?’
Ivy licked her lips. ‘Yes. V-very much.’
