Page 54 of Wicked Designs
“It doesn’t matter. I bought you some presents while I was there. Would you like to see them?”
“Presents?” A smile bloomed on her face, an irresistible enchantment that stole his breath. He’d waited all day to see her look at him like that, as though he’d ridden up upon a white charger, ready to fight for her heart.
But Godric couldn’t trust himself to read that thought in her eyes. He wanted it to be true, but howcould she want him? Him, the man who’d taken so much from her?
“Of course I brought presents. Cedric couldn’t be allowed to have all the fun.”
He pulled the parcels from his riding coat pocket, and Emily took them. Godric joined her on the bed. She unwrapped the dark purple paper and found the first two items, the brush and the comb adorned with butterflies. The pearl of the butterflies’ wings channeled the moonlight, and the opal gleamed darkly, like the sea at midnight. She stroked a fingertip over the surface of the comb’s butterfly and turned her face towards Godric, not realizing how close he was. Their noses brushed and she smiled before giving him a kiss on the cheek. A butterfly’s kiss, so faint he wondered if he’d imagined it.
“They are so beautiful. I have never owned anything this lovely. Thank you.”
Godric flushed. He’d never seen a woman take such simple gifts with such reverence and joy. He could have thrown the Crown Jewels at Evangeline’s feet, and she would not have expressed the same gratitude. The thought humbled him in a way he hadn’t thought possible.
“I chose them myself. The butterflies reminded me of you.”
She kissed his other cheek and looked up through smoky lashes. “I remind you of a butterfly?”
“Yes, you do. They are beautiful, mysterious, alluring, easy to catch if you bring a big enough net…” His voice was low and husky as he gazed at her lips.
“Godric, I believe you are trying to seduce me.” Her words teased, but the heat in her eyes was no joke.
“Always, my dear. Always.” His lips were so close to hers. He ached to kiss her, he needed to kiss her. He had to blind her with the light of the fire in his heart just as she’d blinded him with hers.
“Are you going to kiss me goodnight?” Her question was innocent, but her tone held something more.
“Not yet.” He pointed to the parcel in her hands. “There is still one more present for you.”
Emily dug deeper into the wrapping and found the leather collar with the silver engraved nameplate.
“Penelope,” she read in an excited whisper and leapt from the bed.
She crossed the room to the little basket near the vanity table. The puppy was fast asleep, unaware of the world around her. Emily slid the collar underneath and around her neck. She fastened the buckle and patted Penelope’s head before coming back over to Godric.
“I am sure she’ll be excited in the morning when she wakes.”
Godric almost laughed. “I imagine she will be.” He stood, taking Emily by the arm.
“Shall we go to bed, my dear?”
A flash of panic marred her beautiful face.
“What’s wrong?”
Emily’s cheeks reddened. “I…”
But Godric realized her fear and sought to reassure her.
“We will sleep, and nothing more. I care for you too much to want to do anything but hold you tonight.”From the bottom of his black heart, he truly meant it. Tonight he wanted to reassure her of his honorable intentions.
Honorable intentions. What madness was this that ran through his soul like quicksilver? Godric was incapable of love. How often had his father told him that? Told him that if he was capable of love, his mother would never have died. Rationally Godric knew his father had tried to ease his own grief by putting the burden of her death on him, but he couldn’t help but agree. Had he been older, or stronger, he could have ridden to town to get the doctor, while Father tended to her. But he hadn’t. He’d hidden in the dining room, his little knees tucked up beneath his chin, listening to his mother’s screams. And then that dreaded silence, how it had pounded against his ears.
My fault. Always my fault.
Maybe he was capable of love, but he’d stopped himself because the risk was too great. He’d lost his mother, his father, the sibling who’d never had a chance to breathe its first breath. What if he lost Emily? His insides recoiled at the thought. He mustn’t care for Emily, mustn’t feel anything for her. It was better this way.
But it was all a lie. He did feel for her.
Strongly.
