Page 8 of A Dance with His Angel

Martin: Can I see you again?

I would love that

Martin: Tomorrow? Please say yes

I have to work tomorrow and Sunday morning, and then I’ll have Ivy afterward

Martin: She can come, too, of course

Growing bolder, more forward, I text back:

I think I would prefer to spend some one on one time with you while we get to know each other

Martin: That would mean the world to me

Martin: If your mom is planning to drive you to and from work tomorrow, may I ask that I be granted the opportunity to do so instead? It would be my honor to escort you

Ivy begins to stir in her crib, needing to be changed and fed, so I quickly text back my acceptance and send Martin my address. My stomach flutters with the anticipation of spending even just a few minutes alone with the man who looks at me as surely as James does Shayla.

Chapter Six

Martin

I smile as I wait at the front door, holding the two bundles of floral bouquets and a small gift bag. But truthfully, inside, I’m dying, overwhelmed by the magnitude of my feelings for Lady Eden. I’ve already screenshotted our text messages, printed them, and have them framed on my desk in my home office.

I haven’t made a great first impression with her mother, which is made all the more clear when Rebecca answers the door with a pinched expression. My smile melts off my face, and I reach into my jeans pocket for a handkerchief, wiping my sweaty forehead. Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling when Rebecca unenthusiastically ushers me into the small, but tidy home.

“Here.” I jut out one of the bouquets toward Rebecca. “I mean, these are for you, ma’am.” Thankfully, I stop just short of bowing to her.

“Oh.” Rebecca’s dark brows lift as she accepts the flowers, bringing them to her nose, and she seems to soften toward me. “It’s been years since anyone has brought me flowers. Thankyou.” Rebecca gestures to the second bouquet in my hands. “I take it those are for Eden?”

I swallow hard and nod, turning my attention to the side, waiting for a glimpse of my lady.

“Freesias are her favorite. Did she tell you that?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then you have good taste. She’ll love them.”

I’m heartened that I chose the right arrangement. I hope Eden will love me as much as she loves these flowers.

“I’ll go get her now,” Rebecca says, taking a longer inhale of her flowers as she swerves left around her tweed couch and wooden coffee table in the small living room, disappearing down a hallway. “Eden?” she asks quietly after knocking on a door. “Martin is here.”

All the tension in my body eases, my shoulders relaxing when I hear Eden’s voice telling her mother, “Coming right out.”

She’s a stunning vision when she glides into the room, wearing a mid-thigh, pleated black skirt and sexy, strappy high heels that put her an inch taller than me. Ivy coos happily in her arms.

“Good day, Lady Eden,” I say, sweeping a low bow.

A blush creeps up Eden’s lovely neck, her hair pulled back in a complicated updo. She curtsies and whispers, “Good day, Lord Martin.”

“These are for you.” I hand her the freesias, watching her eyes light up. “And this is for Ivy,” I say, passing her the gift bag.

“Thank you.” Eden bites her bottom lip, painted with a glossy red lipstick, and ducks her head shyly, taking a seat on the couch with her daughter cradled in the crook of her arm. Rebecca takes the freesia bouquet to free Eden’s hands, and the women wear matching smiles when Eden reaches into the bag to reveal the teething toy shaped like a bouquet.

“Martin…” Eden says softly, standing from the couch, placing her hand on my right cheek, the tips of her fingernails gently curled into my beard, making me shiver with pleasure. I’d love to feel them skating the length of my back. “That was so sweet. Thank you.” To my shock and amazement, she kisses my left cheek, right there in front of her mother.

I shoot a petrified glance at Rebecca, who’s watching us with her head tilted to the side and a contemplative expression. Over Eden’s shoulder, Rebecca gives me the tiniest of nods and turns toward the kitchen. From the upper cabinet above the breakfast peninsula, she retrieves two vases for their floral arrangements.