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“Beyond the pale, I know.” He swallowed grimly.
She stared at his nervous form, unable to speak from the sheer shock of his audacity. And yet, despite his actions being most unwise, she could admit to being a little impressed by such a decisive move. “Perhaps this is not a complete disaster,” she admitted after another painful minute of silence. “We could frame it as you taking your proper place in the household and vanquishing a villain from your home in righteous fury.”
“I had hoped that could be the case. Wait, what do you mean by ‘we?’” The hope in his sapphire eyes was almost her undoing.
“I meant what I said. You and I will work together to turn this in your favor, with help from your sister, of course,” she amended quickly. Though she accepted they were to be friends, the less time spent alone together, the better. Eliza would hold fast against the temptation to do just the opposite, reminding herself once again that her shallow attraction to the man would do them no favors.
That resolve proceeded to crumble as Dalton slid across the sofa to eagerly take her hands in his grasp. “Thank you, truly. I was so lost on my way here, and you have single-handedly righted my course.” Their bodies were close enough that she could see the dark flecks of navy in his bright eyes as they stared earnestly into her face. The heat of his hands seared into her palms, and her fingers itched to curl around his. All it would take was one tug and his mouth would be…
Eliza swallowed against the rush of heat trailing down her back and willed herself to breathe once more. “I am only doing what any friend would in this situation.”
“A friend,” he repeated slowly, tightening his grip with a small smile that drew her gaze to those lovely looking lips of his. She should pull her own hands away immediately and put some space between them, yet her rationale in doing so was fading fast as his bergamot scent swirled around her senses. His head dipped, mouth parting in open invitation.
To hell with it.She met him halfway, tugging him forward and pressing her mouth against his. His lips were as soft and inviting as she’d thought, and a shiver wracked though her at the feel of them caressing her own. She pressed her palms against him and traced her tongue along the seam of his soft lips with a soft moan.
Which was, apparently, just the wrong thing to do as Dalton pushed away from her with an audible gasp. Jarringly bereft of his warmth, Eliza watched as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and stared at her with an almost wild look about him. “Dear Lord,” he breathed. “I am so very sorry.”
It appeared she’d misread the situation entirely. She held out a hand, humiliation washing over her in waves. “My Lord, please. I should be the one to apologize.”
“No.” He shook his head and swiftly rose, the troubled haze in his gaze making her feel like twice the cad. “I must.”
“Wait!” But he didn’t seem to hear her and made a swift beeline for the door, wrenching it open and slamming it shut behind him. Eliza winced at the deafening crack, eyes burning from embarrassment. What an utter buffoon she was.
