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“But—”
His gaze seemed fixated on her mouth, as if he was thinking of kissing her again, just for good measure. Emma rather hoped he would do just that, but to her disappointment he turned away and raked his hands distractedly through his hair.
“When Andrew asked me totake care of youI very much doubt that was what he meant,” he growled.
Her heart contracted at the remorse and self-recrimination in his tone. “He asked that of you?”
“Yes.”
She smiled, albeit a little sadly. “He always was the very best of brothers. But please don’t imagine you have some sort of responsibility for me now. Andrew wouldn’t have intended that at all. I’m sure he just meant for you to keep an eye out for me.”
“Hmmm.” Kit’s growl was sufficient to convey his disagreement.
He started off toward the house, and it took her a long moment to catch up with him.
When she finally risked a glance at him, she deemed it prudent to ignore what had just happened, since he clearly seemed determined to forget it.
She rubbed her arm with a scowl. “I think I bruised my elbow.”
“I think I bruised more than my elbow.” He rubbed his backside. “I’m going to be black and blue by tomorrow.”
Emma forced her eyes away from the sight of his large hand stroking his shapely posterior. The man had no right to look that good in breeches.
She cleared her throat as they neared the house. “I need to change and then check on my orchids.” She bobbed him a brief curtsey. “Good morning.”
As much as she would have preferred to avoid Kit for the rest of the day, he was in the greenhouse when she finally made her way back downstairs. She went straight to her five remaining orchids and busied herself checking the dampness of their soil.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She picked up a small jug from the potting table and scooped out a measure of warm water from the nearest pool. “They don’t need watering until they’re almost dried out. If they get too wet, they rot. That’s why so many of them died on the way across the Atlantic—it was too damp for them on the ship.”
“Ah.”
Emma stroked a shiny leaf. “But this is a good sign that they’re improving. See, how they’ve become a nice bright green? That means they’re getting enough daylight. They were much darker when I first arrived.”
Kit moved to stand at her shoulder and she tried not to bask in his nearness. Or think about what his lips had felt like on hers.
“I’m glad they’re thriving in this environment,” he said. “You seem to have a magic touch. Perhaps there’s something about your presence that makes them want to live?”
She glanced sideways at him, unable to tell if he was serious or not. “I don’t think there’s any particular magic to it,” she managed. “I just care for them and give them what they need.”
Doyoufeel better in my presence?She wanted to ask.Do I makeyouwant to live? To come alive?
Where had those foolish thoughts come from?
Kit staredat Emma’s exquisite profile and swallowed down the admission that was forming on his tongue. How could he possibly explain that he felt like those orchids of hers? That he’d been in his own ‘dormant stage’ for the past eighteen months, but . . . maybe she was coaxing him to bloom again?
His teasing suggestion that she kiss him under the mistletoe had been impulsive, a bit of fun, but the moment she’d stepped up close all he could think about was knowing the taste of her lips, the feel of her in his arms.
Kissing her had been a revelation.
She wasn’t the first woman he’d been in contact with since his recovery, but she was the first one to truly rouse his interest—and his body. Desire, thick and dark, had pulsed through his bloodstream, reigniting passions he’d thought long dead.
He’d wanted to kiss her at sixteen when he’d visited her brother during their breaks from school. Now, at twenty five, he wanted to take her to bed and show her every pleasure that could be had between a man and a woman.
It wasn’t only her physical body he craved, though. He admired her unflagging optimism and her thirst for life. Her vital presence had underscored how stagnant he’d allowed his own life to become, how drab and lacking in color.
He wanted to live again.Not merely to exist, but to expose himself to the world. To all the highs and lows it had to offer, despite the risks.
