Page 80 of A Searing Acquaintance
“It’s sooo comfortable.” Elizabeth wiggled a bit against him. “The cushions are so cushy.”
He grabbed her hips. “Slow down there. Please.” He closed his eyes briefly and exhaled. “So, the springs aren’t sprung?”
She laughed a little shakily and slowly moved her hips away from his. “Well, I imagine the padding is extra firm.”
Darcy shifted away, and propped himself up on an elbow. With his other hand, he stroked her face and stared into her eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured. “So, so beautiful.”
Elizabeth, already flushed from their heated play and from the warmth radiating from Darcy, blushed and averted her eyes. She was tangled—and perhaps a bit too warm—in the oversize sweatshirt he’d given her, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to strip off the extra layer of protective armor it provided. He was tempting. That fact hadn’t changed since that night at Netherfield, but everything else had.
She slowly pulled her legs out from his, sat up, and slid her feet to the floor. She pushed up the sleeves on the sweatshirt and looked around for her bag. “I…could you tell me where to find the powder room?”
Darcy frowned and reached for her hand. “Elizabeth, are you all right? I wasn’t trying to rush anything. I wouldn’t.”
Turning quickly, Elizabeth leaned over and kissed him gently. “I know you wouldn’t. We’re exactly where we should be.” She peered at him closely. “Okay?”
He nodded.
“Good. It’s just that I’m all tangled up in your enormous sweatshirt, and I need to?—”
Darcy quickly clambered up. “Of course. Sorry. I should have shown you earlier. I did promise a tour after all.” He led her toward the entryway and opened a door for her. “I’ll get your sweater for you.”
Elizabeth closed the door, pulled off the sweatshirt, and looked at herself in the mirror.Wow.She never wore much makeup, but what she had put on that morning was mostly gone. Rubbed off. Kissed off. Cried off. Her hair was a thorough mess. One of her silver hoop earrings was askew. But her eyes were as bright as she had ever seen them. Her skin was glowing. He thought her beautiful. Everything was perfect.
Darcy pulled the sweater out of the dryer. Thank God he hadn’t shrunk it or ruined it. It was a beautiful light green, perfect for her eyes. But as nice as it would look on her, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her looking more amazing than she did wearing his sweatshirt. Good God. He’d tried so hard to be good, tried so hard to justbe. But she was so bloody tempting. And she’d had so much fun temptinghim.
He laid the sweater on top of a chair and carried the tray of dirty dishes into the kitchen. He was placing the bowls in the dishwasher when he sensed he had company. He looked down at his feet where Carmen and Yogi were staring up at him.
“Lunchtime, guys? All right.” Darcy poured some kibble into their dishes and refilled their water bowl. He turned back to the sink, yawning, when he felt two arms encircle his waist and gently squeeze him. He jumped, unused to the intimate contact in his own house.
“Hey, you. All fixed up then?” He turned around, still in her embrace, and looked down at her. “Oh, yes, still stunning.”
“I’m passable,” Elizabeth said, wryly. “I’m not sure I’m fit to be seen in public, especially now that it’s sunny outside. I look as though I’ve been kissed senseless.”
“Ah…is there a cure for that? Some way I could help?” He bent his head and gave her a soft kiss.
“Hair of the dog?” Elizabeth rose on her tiptoes and kissed him back. “How about a bit of exercise? You can give me the official guided tour of your vast expanses of property on the Upper West Side.”
He looked at her and bit back a grin. “You’d like to see my parking spaces and storage cubicle as well?”
“Tempting,” she said laughing, “but let’s stick to the furnished bits today, all right?”
He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, and told her that he’d lived at that address since finishing his MBA at Harvard. “When I took over the place, it still echoed of my grandparents.” He explained that an elderly aunt and her companion had lived there after the Fitzwilliams moved out.
A complete renovation had been necessary. Heavy curtains and sheets of old, dark wallpaper were removed to let in the light. Outdated tiles and shag carpets were torn out to reveal the original 1929 floors, and he’d had the walls covered in rich colors while leaving the windows mostly bare. While he preferred as little furniture as necessary, Mrs. Reynolds had made sure all the bedrooms were furnished.
The overwhelming number of books in the library took Elizabeth’s breath away, the sheer size of the gleaming cherry wood table in the dining room shocked her a bit, and the deep leather couches and massive flat screen television in the den filled her with warmth. She found the bedrooms charming, all of them small but tastefully appointed. He hesitated at his own door. “And, um, this is the master suite.”
It was strikingly masculine yet completely inviting. The walls were a deep red, prompting a small smile from her that he pretended not to notice. The wood furniture was dark and the linens a rich cream. The light shone in through four large windows, brightening yet softening what might have been a severe look.
“It’s very…you.” Elizabeth stumbled a bit over her words before glancing up at a small grouping of prints on one wall. “Dark yet light, warm yet a bit surprising.”
Darcy was so engaged in watching Elizabeth as she explored the room in which he’d so often dreamt of her that he almost missed what she said. “My bedroom and I are ‘surprising’? What does that mean?”
Elizabeth walked over to the windows and turned around. “You have candles in your bedroom. That’s surprising. You have a plaid chair that doesn’t match anything else.” It was a fairly standardarmchair, but the upholstery was years past its fashion prime. A closer look revealed it was fairly shredded as well.
He smiled and crossed his arms. “It’s awful-looking, isn’t it? I should pitch it. Coco didn’t like to share the bed. My old cat, Mittens, used to sleep in the chair. The kittens sleep there sometimes now, especially if there’s a storm.”
Darcy glanced at the tea lights on his dresser and the candles on a table by the windowsill. He shrugged. “Emergency lighting. I have a flashlight, too.”
