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“Don’t be silly. I’ve got my grandson on the way.”
As if on cue, a horn blew outside from beyond the front porch.
“Are you sure? Maybe the two of you can wait out the weather here?” British asked.
Mrs. Fitzhugh shook her head from side to side. “No, best we get on our way before the bottom falls out.”
Donovan cocked his head to the side, afraid to ask.
“Before the storm hits.”
As the older woman walked toward the door, the last two remaining guests walked with her. She assured them they would be just fine and that British knew every emergency contact in town. They opened the door for her, where her grandson rushed to them with a waiting umbrella. Donovan asked once more if she was okay and before she took off for shelter with her family member, Mrs. Fitzhugh stepped up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss goodbye.
“Well,” British sighed, facing the door as it closed. “What do we do now?”
Donovan loosened his tie and shook his head. “Now we have dessert first.”
“What?”
Letting her in on his idea of a treat, Donovan stepped forward and cupped British’s face. “Dessert,” he whispered before dropping his face to kiss her.
British’s arms wrapped around his neck and allowed him to dip her backward. Just as he recalled from last night, the spark was undeniable. British moaned and her lips vibrated against his. His body hardened. To be safe, he set her upright.
“If that was dessert,” British asked him, “what’s the main course?”
“Well—” he started and stopped himself with her help when she swatted him in the stomach. “All right, all right. But I’m not going to apologize for kissing you just now.”
British took a deep breath. “I guess I had it coming.”
Donovan narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe my kisses have ever been compared to a form of punishment.”
“I didn’t mean it to sound like one,” said British. “I just meant, if I can just randomly kiss you because I don’t want to regret anything, it’s only fair you do the same.”
A clang of thunder shook the door frame. Donovan laced his fingers with hers and led her to the dining room. This felt natural—as if the two of them just saw off their last guests and were heading upstairs. Only they weren’t, Donovan reminded himself. While they’d been sharing a few kisses here and there, Donovan acknowledged the fact that she was a widow. He assumed he was the first person she was attracted to since her husband’s death. He needed to keep this in mind. Eventually he was going to leave Southwood. Hopefully it would be with British—as the new spokesmodel for Ravens Cosmetics.
“Well, I figured since we have to be around your family, we need to get this whole sexual tension out of the way.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself, Donovan,” British said with a nod.
They stopped and stood in the archway of the dining room and faced each other. “I think you wouldn’t have showed up in my room in a thin nightgown last night if you weren’t feeling the same vibes as me. But I don’t want things to get muddled for us. We may end up working together if you take my offer and be Ravens Cosmetics’ newest star.”
“I won’t,” she assured him. “Anyway, what are you talking about?” Annoyance dripped from her voice. It didn’t matter to him. She was so adorable, standing there with her hands behind her back, leaning on her side of the arch. “What am I taking things slow with?”
“Well,” Donovan began after deeply clearing his throat. “Do we need to have this talk now?”
“Are you referring to me being a widow?” British half laughed. “Are you trying to marry me?”
Donovan felt his eyes widen at the word. “Well... I—”
“Good grief, Donovan,” said British. She crossed her arms, tucking her right hand under her arm and her left on top. Her ringless hand on top. “I’ll admit there is a tension between us. But I can’t be sure it’s sexual. You’ve been harassing me about working for your company.”
“So when I caught you staring at me this morning?”
She opened her mouth then closed it. “Well, I didn’t say you aren’t attractive.”
“You’re turning red, British.” He swore if he stepped closer he might spark up in flames.
The light from the candles on the table highlighted her face when she turned away from him. “What you’re describing is pure physical desire. Pheromones.”
