Page 38 of Forever & Again
His face had been so close to hersshe could still feel his breath against her skin.
“What if I want you to?” She recognized the breathless voice as her own, but hadn’t even realized she thought the words until they were spoken out loud.
Oliver froze. His chest rose and fell unevenly, the rhythm of his breathing betraying the effort it took for him to remain composed.
“Grace,” the way he whispered her name sounded like a warning and an invitation all at once. “Last night, you asked me something. And I told you that if you truly meant it, then you would need to ask me again. The moment you do, I will be more than happy to oblige, but not before.”
Grace clenched her hands at her sides as if holding herself together might stop the rapid fluttering in her chest. Her cheeks flamed, her breath stuttered, but something about the way Oliver was teetering on the edge of madness and restraint gave her a boldness she didn’t know she possessed. “How am I supposed to ask if I don’t remember what the question was?”
Oliver’s eyes flicked back to hers, his smile deepening.“I am a very patient man, Lady Rockwell.”
Grace let out a breathless laugh, “That is not true.” The tension between them lifted for just a moment, giving her enough space to breathe again.
Oliver laughed as well. “You’re right, it is not.” He took another step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But I am discovering that for you, I could be just about anything.”
Grace’s heart lurched violently in her chest. His words weren’t a confession, but they were dangerously close.
Oliver reached out slowly, his fingers slightly brushing her wrist. His touch was warm, but as his hand gently slid down to close around hers, she couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through her.
“I have never been one to think things through or tread carefully.” He murmured, his thumb gracing the back of her hand in slow circles. “But I do not want to rush this. I want to do this properly.”
The room felt like it was spinning around her, but she was held perfectly secure by Oliver’s gaze and the feeling of his hand on hers.Oliver wanted her.
With a force so sudden it almost knocked the breath out of her lungs, Grace realized with perfect clarity—she wanted him to.
How had this infuriating man managed to wind himself so tightly around her heart that she could no longer pretend it was untouched? Perhaps in the quiet moments, when his calm steadied her. Or in the sparring when his wit ignited hers. Maybe it was between the moments of laughter when he would give her small glimpses of his heart. Or perhaps it was last night, when his nearness had stolen the very air she breathed.
Whatever it was, whenever it happened, it was now impossible to ignore. She was in love with Oliver Blackburn.
“Grace?” he whispered. She had been staring at him silently, so absorbed in her own thoughts, she hadn’t even noticed the concern that was now etched into his brows. He was waiting for a response.
Grace’s eyes searched his, hoping perhaps she could find some cure to the insanity that had overtaken her. But instead of pulling her out of her madness, she found herself pulled even deeper into their dark blue depths.
“This is quite unfortunate.” She whispered the moment she was able to find her voice.
“What is?” Oliver asked, a note of panic in his voice as the grip on her hand loosened.
Grace reassuringly squeezed her fingers tightly around his. “For the first time in my life,” she paused, taking in a shaky breath. “I have absolutely no desire to think things through.”
Oliver released a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, a gentle smile spreading across his face as the tension drained from his shoulders and his eyes softened with quiet relief.
“Does this mean we are free from the terms of our truce?” he teased, a spark lighting his eyes. “Because if you no longer find me insufferable, I can simply claim my victory.”
Grace shook her head with a smile, “You are still insufferable, Ollie.” Her breath caught at how the name continually slipped out with such familiar ease.
Oliver’s gaze softened even more, slowly lifting his hand and brushing a stray curl from her temple.
“I haven’t heard anyone call me that in a long time. Besides Matthew, but he does so with far less affection.”
Grace laughed, the knot loosening from her stomach. “You do not mind?”
“No.” He shook his head. The smile that was firmly planted on his face filled Grace’s heart with a feeling so achingly familiar.
“You may call me whatever you like.”
Grace laughed, daring to take a step closer. The hall was quiet, and the look in his eyes seemed to coax forth a part of her she hadn’t known still existed. “That kind of power might be dangerous.”
“Only if I fight it.” His voice dropped as he leaned in, lips grazing dangerously close to her ear, “If memory serves, I already surrendered.”
