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She shrugged. “Me neither. I’ll just have nightmares about poison and brigands.” She stuck out her cup. “Another would be grand.”
“Come closer to me,” he said suddenly.
She crossed one leg over the other in defiance. “Nay, thank ye, I’m quite content where I’m sittin’.”
She had chosen the spot well, in the lofty attic room where Fergus had brought them. The small fireplace blazed much hotter than she had expected, so she had moved her chair to one side of it, getting the warmth without it being too overwhelming. Nor was she too close to the window, where a chilly wind slipped in.
A startled gasp escaped her lips as he reached over, grabbed the underside of her chair, and forcibly dragged it—and her—to his side. The strength of him flustered her for a moment, making her cross and uncross her legs and fold and unfold her arms like she no longer knew what to do with her limbs.
“Nay, ye see, it’s too warm here,” she protested, holding the edges of the chair as she attempted to shuffle back to where she was.
The moment she set her chair back down, he grabbed it again, pulling her next to him.
“Would ye just sit still?” he growled, pouring that fresh cup of warming brew for her.
This time, she did not move. If he wanted her to sweat and squirm in the heat, then so be it. She would not be held responsible when he found her unappealing.
As he handed the cup back, his fingertips brushed hers. Something akin to a lightning bolt jumped between their skin, catching Edwina’s breath in her throat. He seemed to feel the same thing as his chest rose sharply, and his brown eyes gleamed as if the firelight was within them, and not a mere reflection.
“If ye’re nae tired, perhaps we could find somethin’ else to amuse ourselves,” he said, their fingertips still touching.
She jolted her hand away, nearly spilling the drink. “Such as?”
“I have some thoughts.” He slipped his arm across the back of her chair, turning the room into an inferno that had nothing to do with the fireplace.
The closeness of him snatched the breath from Edwina’s lungs, as did the light pressure of his forearm against her back. A moment later, she felt the soft caress of his fingertips upon her upper arm, and froze where she sat, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but wonder what he was going to do next.
What version of ye is this?She could not fathom when the change in him had happened, for it had been so sudden. Still, it was not entirely unwelcome. Only the circumstances were. They were to be married in less than half a day, and she would not give into any more of her desires before the vows were exchanged and she was his wife. He might not have been the rogue that rumors said he was, but she would not turn him into one, either.
“I was thinkin’ of the tower,” he murmured. “Nae just tonight, but the other night, when I caught ye there and we—”
“I really think I ought to get some sleep, after all,” she interrupted, sitting rigid in her chair.
“In a moment.” His free hand came up to cradle her cheek, turning her face gently toward him. “I have nay taste for honey tonic anymore. I’ve a taste for a different sweetness.” He glanced at her lips, leaving her in no doubt about his meaning.
For what felt like forever, she gazed into his fiery eyes, equally thrilled and concerned by the passion that flickered there. Slowly, he dipped his head closer, seeking her mouth. She longed for a second kiss, she truly did, but as soon as their lips were a second away from touching, she shot up from her seat.
“What is the matter with ye?” she scolded. “I swear, there are ten Felixes livin’ inside yer one body. I daenae ken which one I’ll meet each day, and I certainly am nae well acquainted with this one.”
Felix rose up, towering over her. Yet, he did not intimidate her. He was not trying to or did not appear to be. The fond smile and the warmth in his eyes gave him away.
“There’s only one of me, I assure ye,” he said.
He lifted his hands to cradle her face, curving his shoulders until it felt like he surrounded her, keeping her safe in the shadow of him. She peered up, astonished by his height and his breathtakingly handsome face. It was all the more potent at such close proximity, casting its spell over her. All she could do was concentrate upon his eyes and his lips, certain that he would kiss her this time. She no longer wished to step away.
“Whatisthat perfume ye wear?” His eyes closed as he inhaled, his expression taking on the very essence of pleasure.
She frowned. “It’s a secret recipe, so nay one else can smell as I do. Do ye nae like it?” She did not even need to ask, for delight was etched across his face.
“It… intoxicates me,” he growled, as his eyes opened once more. “Ye intoxicate me. It’s nae that there are several Felixes inhabitin’ this body, it’s that ye’ve made it impossible for me to recognize myself. I daenae act like this. I daenae kiss, I daenae taste, I daenae arrange fine dinners with petals on the floor, and I daenae feel the need to ride through the night just to make a lass see the truth. This is what ye’ve done to me, Edwina. This is the Felix thatye’vecreated.”
Her heart pounded in her chest as he breathed those words, so close to her lips. “The honeysuckle… there were honeysuckle petals on the floor,” she realized out loud. “Was that because of my perfume?”
“I thought I could mask it with the real flowers, but it was nay good. It just drove me to madness, and made me want ye more, as ye well ken,” he replied. “Nothin’ can stop that scent from infiltratin’ every sense I have, and nothin’ can stop ye from gettin’ into my thoughts. I’ve tried my best to nay avail. Ye’re… stuck in here,” he glanced up toward his eyebrows, “and I cannae get ye out.”
She gulped. “Is that such a terrible thing?”
“Aye and nay,” he answered with a sigh. “Maybe, I should’ve let ye believe that I was a cowardly rogue who wouldnae think twice about hurtin’ ye, but I couldnae do it. I couldnae bear the notion of ye thinkin’ I was that sort of wretch. But… in wantin’ ye to ken the truth, I’ve put myself in a strange predicament.”
