There was one sure way to shut him up, and Camellia used it. She kissed him again.
Finn went still for a moment, obviously not expecting that counterattack. But an instant later, he’d recovered fully, slipping fingers into her hair as he deepened the kiss.
Lia opened her mouth by instinct, and nearly fainted when his tongue touched hers, very, very delicately.
Her stomach seemed to fill with lazy, summer-warm butterflies. A heaviness took her limbs, and she tentatively tasted him back. Oh, this was far more wonderful than anyone ever told her.
“Why?” Lia breathed, not even sure what she was asking. Why the kiss? Why her? Why at this moment?
“Must be something in the air,” he responded, his voice lazy and seductive.
Lia shook herself. “Just a moment, Mr Ryder. What is this? You can’t just kiss a girl in the middle of an argument!”
“It helps end the argument,” he noted.
He kissed her to silence her? Ugh! “You are a…beast!” she said, angry because that wasn’t the word she meant, but she could hardly command the power of speech at the moment. “You are highly improper and…and I can understand why no one trusts you!”
Finn stepped back, the muscles of his jaw tight and his eyes stormy.
Oh, I should not have said that, Lia thought. But she also couldn’t take the words back.
He looked away. “I guess you wouldn’t be interested in resuming the search after breakfast, then.”
Lia took a deep breath, then said, “You are right about that, Mr Ryder. Not after breakfast and not after Doomsday. Good morning, sir.”
Chapter 9
Without further words, Camellia stormed off to the breakfast room.
Despite the maelstrom in her mind, stirred up by Finn’s scandalous, very inappropriate, and entirely-too-interesting kiss, Camellia’s appetite was summoned by the scents of coffee, tea, and bread. The cook had made special dishes for the holiday season, and the aroma of cinnamon and sweet fruit filled the air. She quietly stood at the sideboard, filling her plate, heedless of appearances. She planned to devour it all.
At the table, a lady about her same age sat down next to her. “Good morning, Miss Swift,” she said.
Camellia nodded, not remembering the lady’s name at the moment.
“I see you are fortifying yourself for the day,” the lady noted. Miss Fielding! That was her name. She had a plate with a single piece of toast on it.
Camellia took a sip of strong tea. “I hope to hibernate with the bears come the Season, so I must eat as much as possible.”
Miss Fielding blinked, but let the remark pass. Though ten feet away, Finn laughed at something.
“I think he heard that,” Camellia murmured.
“Do you know Mr Ryder well?” Miss Fielding asked in a whisper.
“I only met him yesterday.” She did not add, And he kissed me this morning!
“But you spoke with him over dinner, did you not?” the lady asked.
Camellia nodded.
“He is a most disturbed and dangerous man. What is the thing that haunts him so?”
“Haunts him?” Camellia raised her eyebrow. Did this lady believe in ghosts too?
“From the Peninsula! What did he do to earn the scorn of his regiment?” The woman’s eyes were bright at the thought of a hideous crime to be discovered.
Camellia frowned. “He did not say, and I didn’t ask.” She then offered, “Why don’t you ask him yourself, if your curiosity is so strong?”
