Page 42 of Sweet Siren
Chapter 10
July 2,1879
“Imust go up to London,"she told Killian as she closed her notebook and they ended their regular morning meeting about design and decor for his houses."Roger will be eager to hear about our discussions. The townhouse plans are as he drew them. And the major changes are to your ownhouse."
"His original sketches were sound," Killian said. "He did a fine job. The biggest change we've made is to extend the foyer. I want that rotunda. Make it big, but not a wind tunnel. I've walked in the door of too many houses where the poor butler was nearly swept up to the rafters like a bird in the crossdraft."
She grinned at him. "It shouldn't be difficult for Roger to redesign the foyer so that it sits forward of the main line of the house. With theporte cochère, a rotunda will look impressive but not opulent. Just as you want it. Ahome."
"Exactly. And be certain he understands that the most important aspect is to turn left from the foyer, so anyone still has a view to the arches out to thesea."
"If only those arches could talk," she said with a thrill for how he saved them. "They'd shout their gratitude to you for preservingthem."
Killian rose from behind the desk in the library. In his sky blue waistcoat and white shirt, he was the country gentleman at his leisure. London toffs might not approve of his appearance before her without his frock coat, but she did. Stripped nearer to his skin, she could admire his health and his natural male vigor. When younger, Killian Hanniford had surely been a heartbreaker. Now, he was devastating to any woman who saw him. And yet, she chastised herself for her desire for him, forbidden as itwas.
Last night, he'd returned from his most recent visit to London. He and Pierce had gone to town five days ago to settle a negotiation that was going badly. Only Killian returned. When she saw him enter the salon last night, her heart had leapt in herthroat.
That was so telling. While he'd been away, Liv had pined for him like a debutante for her first beau. One look at him and she'd lost her breath, pinning herself to her chair so as not to rush up to embracehim.
She'd been so good these past few weeks, not to touch him, not to kiss him. And he had not approached her intimately either. For that she was grateful. But angry too. At herself. At her past. Here was a man who elicited her every torrid feminine need and she should not countenance her infatuation. Nor should she encourage him to courther.
And yet...and yet she'd prized the other little tokens she could accept. The burn of his gaze on her own. The caress of his fingers as he took her arm and escorted her in to dinner or out to the gardens for a stroll in the moonlight. The scent of his cologne as he bent to turn the pages of the musical scores for her when she played the piano each afternoon in the small salon. As before, she didn't need the sheet music, but she did need his nearness, his attentions. God helpher.
"Liv," he spoke to her as he stood before her chair. "Where are you? Dreamingagain?"
Of you. Yes.She licked her lips, imagining she’d reach up and enfold him in her arms, absorb his magnetic strength, empowered with his might. But that was for naught. She'd told him months ago that they'd had their idyll on the shores of the Seine. But the true idyll had been here at Willowreach. In his presence. With his family. Near him, a step away, each day, each hour. Living with his ideas, his energy, his boldness. And his irresistible, novel optimism. One that was innate to his nature. As opposed to her own that was self-taught, deliberatelynurtured.
And oh, she must pack. Must leave here.Because I care so much. More than isallowed.
"Liv." He reached out and for the first time since she'd kissed him the day Garrett was born, he touched her. Lifting her chin with two fingers, he smiled sadly at her. "I don't want you to go,Liv."
"I should," she said with a fearful determination borne of the longing for him that she'd experienced while he was away—and the painful memory of how she'd spent years damning him. "Lily and Garrett are getting on quite well. The new nurse they've hired understands her duties and they all have a suitable routine. They no longer need myadvice."
His shoulders sagged. He dropped his hand. "I know she'll missyou."
"I've enjoyed every minute. All of you are so easy to be with."Easy tolove.
"Then why not come to Paris with all of us for the christening of Marianne and Remy'sson?"
The family had received a letter yesterday that Marianne had delivered her baby three days ago. The young heir to the dukedom of Remy and the princedom of d'Aumale was to be christened Bertrand Andre Duquesne Marceau, after both of his grandfathers and his father. All the Hannifords planned to go to Paris to attend the ceremony the first of September and they had invited Liv along. Tempted to accept, she'd refused. Caution was best when the lure to remaining near Killian night and day could mean she'd succumb to her desire for him. Memories of how forward she'd been to call him darling and to kiss him made her hungry to taste his lips again. The memory did not shame her, as it might have years ago. She surprised herself. How long could one continue to condemn another? Negativity took such a toll on the body andmind.
But duty called, as did prudence. "I cannot, Killian. I have so much work to do. I must return to London to prepare my meetings for your furniture and upholstery, the rugs and ever so much more. Good furniture and draperies take so much time to construct. And we want to finish your house, especially, in a reasonable period oftime."
She stopped, appalled she'd sounded like a nervous twit, rattling on aboutdetails.
"I won't rush the builder," he said. "Ten months is what he quoted me from the time he laid the foundation. I'm in no hurry. I simply want it done right. He predicts March at earliest, if we don't have muchsnow."
"Expect April," she told him, happy to change the subject. "Or earlyMay."
He gazed down at her, his regard much too intimate to be comfortable. "When do you wish togo?"
"Tomorrow."The sooner, the better.Everything about him drew her like a magnet. In three weeks, he'd changed her view of him. Where was her loyalty to the sorrows of thepast?
"Let me escort you back totown."
His concern ran through her like warm honey, lulling her with desire. She must object. "You've only justreturned."
"I came as quickly as I could only to be with youagain."
