Her heart flailed against her ribs in alarm. She was fearless with external risks, but when it came to her feelings...
She smiled for him. Tentatively. On purpose this time. She didn’t show all of her teeth, but... yes, her lips were definitely parted.
It was the most terrifying feat she’d ever attempted.
He smiled back at her. Not a cruel smile. A slow, pulse-fluttering smile that sent shocks of awareness across every inch of her skin.
“I’m Elijah,” he said. “And I would have brought that medallion years ago if I’d known it would bring this smile to your face.”
“I wouldn’t have let you through the door.” It was true. It had taken her father’s machinations to make her think of Weston as anything other than a monster. She was no longer certain of much at all. “I’m... Olive.”
His thumb stroked her cheek.
She was no longer smiling. She was practically purring.
His voice was low and husky. “I want to kiss you more than anything.”
Yes. That was a fine idea. Exactly what Olive wanted, too.
“But we shouldn’t,” he continued. “Not unless you’re absolutely certain this is the path you want to take.”
The farm. He meant the farm.
He was reminding her ofherreasons not to let him close.
These were not the actions of a monster.
Perhaps he’d been one, a decade ago. He had been her worst nightmare, and ruined London for her forever.
But he had also been sixteen when they met. Barely older than her.
Years had passed since then. She was different. Why wouldn’t he be, too?
Perhaps she ought to judge him by the man she saw before her now, not the boy that she remembered.
Her throat tightened.
She would never forget, and she was not ready to forgive, but she could no longer hold her grudge against him. It was time to stop allowing the past to define her life.
“Iamsorry,” he said quietly. “Not that my feelings change anything.”
Didn’t they?
What were feelings for, if not to change things?
“Let me think about the right path.” She took his hand from her cheek and placed it on his chest. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “You have seven days.”
Chapter 7
The Fourth Day
Olive’s father was arranging cinnamon biscuits on a tray when she carried her dirty breakfast dishes into the kitchen.
He lifted an eyebrow. “You two seem cozy this morning.”
The back of her neck heated. She was glad the dishes in her hands gave an excuse not to immediately respond. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hold onto them forever.
