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Janos studied his grandson benignly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my toes. You, on the other hand, are about to wear a hole in one of my favourite rugs. Did Jakob say what time he’d be over?’
Frowning, Laszlo pretended to think. ‘He did. Now, what did he say...? Oh, yes. About eight.’ He grinned at his grandfather. ‘Oh, ye of little faith!’
Shaking his head, Janos laughed. ‘I’m impressed, but still a little shocked.’
‘I don’t see what the fuss is all about,’ Laszlo grumbled. He turned to Prudence, a curve of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. ‘What do you think, Prudence? Can’t a leopard change his spots?’
Conscious of Janos’s presence, she bit her tongue—but the desire to tease overwhelmed her. ‘I’m not sure. Is that how you see yourself? As a leopard?’
She paused, mesmerised by the hunger burning in his golden eyes and the rough shadow of dark stubble grazing his jaw.
‘You’re more like a wolf really,’ she murmured, her blood slowing in her veins at the intensity of his gaze. ‘A tamed wolf that’ll come inside the house but only if the door is left open.’
Their eyes locked and she felt a shiver of quicksilver run down her spine. Suddenly her heart was pounding, and the only sound was the rain falling on the window and the strained intake of their breath.
And then Janos cleared his throat. ‘I believe the word you’re looking for is liminal,’ he said mildly. ‘It means to occupy a space on both sides of a boundary—or in this case threshold.’
For a moment Prudence stared at him blankly, all thoughts, all words gone. And then, colour burning her cheeks, she straightened up abruptly and the spell was broken.
‘Liminal... I must remember that,’ she said weakly, finding speech at last.
Janos nodded. ‘I believe architects often refer to hallways as “liminal” spaces.’
Prudence shifted in her chair, uncomfortably aware that she’d been too consumed with longing to hide her emotions. But if Janos was aware of her feelings he was hiding it well, for he merely smiled and returned to reading his papers.
Her heart was thumping painfully hard. Breathing out, she looked up and found Laszlo watching her almost hungrily through the thick dark lashes that fringed his eyes.
‘If I’m a wolf, does that mean you’re a lamb?’ he said softly. Her heart lurched against her ribs.
He was exactly like a wolf: a predatory, single-minded wild animal. And she felt exactly like a lamb that had stumbled into his lair. Only perhaps because finally—privately—she had admitted her love for him it suddenly felt like the most important thing in the world to disagree.
Taking a deep breath, she summoned up a casual smile. ‘Oh, I’d probably be something very prickly and shy—like a hedgehog.’
Laszlo grinned slowly. ‘Hedgehogs aren’t always prickly. When they relax and feel safe their quills lie flat.’
Their eyes met and she had to curl her fingers into the palms of her hands to stop herself from reaching out and pulling his mouth against hers. ‘Then what happens? You eat them, I suppose?’
She blushed as he lifted an eyebrow.
‘That would depend on the hedgehog.’
Janos shook his head. ‘He’s teasing you, my dear. He’s never eaten a hedgehog in his life.’
Smiling weakly, Prudence sat up straighter, flattening herself against the back of the chair. Her skin felt hot and prickling, quite as if she were growing spines, and she had to ball her hands into fists to stop herself from rubbing her arms.
‘What about you, Janos?’ she said quickly, turning away as Laszlo mouthed the word coward at her. ‘What animal are you like?’
Janos put down his papers and frowned. ‘Judging by the state of my memory, I ought by rights to be a goldfish,’ he said ruefully.
They all burst out laughing.
Grinning, Laszlo reached across and squeezed his grandfather’s hand. ‘You’re such a fraud, Papi! Your memory’s better than mine. And as for Prudence—’ He shook his head. ‘Hers is too good! I’d like her to forget the odd thing.’
He paused and, unable to resist the pull of his gaze, Prudence looked up helplessly.
He gave her a crooked smile and then his expression shifted, grew suddenly serious. ‘Actually, there’s quite a lot of things I’d like her to forget.’ He hesitated, as though groping in his mind for a word or phrase, and then said quietly, ‘Quite a lot I’d want to change too.’
She stared at him uncertainly, her stomach suddenly churning with nerves and confusion. His voice was strained—she might even have described it as anxious. But of course that must be her nerves playing with her imagination, for his face was neither.
