While one of the keeper’s children took the bucket to transfer the water into two glasses, he waited for the food.
“Pardon me.” He turned to find a raven-haired woman behind him, her painted lips pursed in a knowing smile. “You owe me a drink, sir.”
He glanced around to ensure she wasn’t talking to someone else. “I think you’ve mistaken me.”
“I was about to take a sip of wine when I noticed you. I’m afraid I immediately spilled my glass.”
“Sorry.” He shook his head. “What?”
With her height, her lips were almost at his ear when she whispered, “I’m trying to seduce you. Is that agreeable?”
“Ah.” Her red dress. Her makeup. Her practiced aura of seduction. It all clicked into place. Jesus, he was distracted. “You’re a working girl.”
“Are you hard work?”
“I’m not your target market.” He reached for the tray with the two chicken pies and waters he’d ordered. “And I have to go bring up dinner to someone, but good luck.”
“Oh, I won’t need it. That naval officer in the corner has been giving me cow’s eyes for a few minutes, but you were more handsome.” She glanced at the pies. “You have a woman waiting for you?”
“I do,” he said simply. And it was true. He did. “We’re to be married in a few days.”
She tilted her head. “Isn’t she lucky?”
“You’d have to ask her.”
“You’re a funny one, Yankee Doodle. I like that. Let me know if you both get bored tonight. I wouldn’t mind joining your party. My guess is you have a pretty one.” And after a mocking curtsy, she sauntered away.
It had been a minute since he’d been with a woman. At least a year. It wasn’t that he strove for a monk’s existence, but rather that he struggled to compartmentalize his life in the way his teammates seemed to manage so effectively. His dedication to studying opponents, rigorous workouts, and constant practice left little room for investing in a relationship. Despite occasional bouts of loneliness, he loved his work. Nothing was more fun.
But now he was here. Over two hundred years away from the Austin arena. From his teammates. From his routine. From the ice.
He stood outside the attic door, his arms laden with the dinner tray, unsure of how to alert Lizzy to his presence without startling her or dropping something. Kicking the door was too aggressive.
As if she’d read his thoughts, the door opened, revealing Lizzy standing on the other side.
“I heard you,” she said simply. Her hair was fanned around her shoulders, and her face was pink. She’d changed out of her dress and was in a long white nightgown.
“Thank you for the water,” she said, taking the glasses from him. “I’m so tired. And so hungry. I can’t decide which I want to do more, eat or sleep.”
“These chicken pies smell good.” He set them on the table in the corner. “Eat one and then you can crash. You don’t want to board the coach tomorrow on an empty stomach.”
“Indeed not.” She looked younger—no, that wasn’t it, just more vulnerable. It was strange how something as simple as seeing her ready for sleep made it feel as if they were crossing a new threshold.
They ate quietly. Too tired for banter, but also, as the dusk turned to night outside the window and she lit the single lamp, it felt like the bed filled the room, growing at the same rate as the shadows. He washed up quickly, still not quite used to the fact that toothpaste here came as a powder. Although better not to complain, because at least he had clean teeth, thanks to the tooth scraper he got at the Woodlands.
He cleared the dishes and brought them downstairs. The officer and the lady in red were gone. When he got back to the room, Lizzy was sitting up in bed. There was a chill in the night air, and he could tell that her nipples were hard. It was difficult to think of anything else.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked, his hand hovering near the lamp, ready to extinguish the soft light.
She shifted, the bed creaking beneath her. “The mattress is not a cloud, but it will do.”
“I’m going to turn the light out now, Lizzy.” He twisted the knob at the base, the wick lowering into the oil. The room dimmed to darkness.
“Mr.Taylor.” Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”
He had to keep his tone even. “It’s okay.”
“Mr.Taylor?” A moment of silence stretched between them. “What if I said you could sleep in the bed?”
