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“I suspect I am done now.”
“Iamsorry. I really should not have...” She glanced to the floor where water puddled about his feet.
“And I should not have...” He gestured vaguely with his free hand. “Shouted.”
“I do understand. I startled you.”
Startled. He snorted. It sounded like something a young delicate lady might suffer. Not an experienced soldier.
A crease appeared between her fair brows. “What amuses you?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head.
Cillian couldn’t explain how his mind worked. How it wasn’t her presence that bothered him—how few things had the ability tostartlehim at all. If it wasn’t for this damned hideous eye, he’d be lying back in his bath and having a whole conversation with her if that was what she wanted.
Instead, they were still having a damned conversation, except he’d made it worse by deciding it was an excellent idea to dash about the house half-naked.
“My point is, Ivy, I should not have shouted at you, and I am sorry for that.”
“It really is—”
“If you tell me my awful behavior was acceptable once more, I may have to throw you over my knee.”
“Oh.”
Bloody hell, could he make this any worse?
“A joke, Ivy, and a poor one at that.” He shook his head. “I certainly do not believe in throwing one’s wife over one’s knee.”
“Oh.”
“And I do not believe you should be fearful of speaking with your husband,” he said softly. “I shall endeavor to do better.”
This time her eyes crinkled slightly when she smiled. His heart gave a strange pulse. The combination of those lush, pink lips and the rounded cheeks with eyes that changed from icy blue to silver in different lights was enough to make any man addled really. Right now, it didn’t matter he was standing in the hallway in a mere towel. A battalion of French soldiers could stampede through the house, and he still probably wouldn’t be able to move.
She had him captivated.
“I appreciate that, thank you, my lord.”
“Cillian,” he reminded her.
“Cillian,” she repeated.
He caught her gaze on his chest again. It was about the least scarred part of him, he supposed, and he managed to maintain his strength despite taking on the life of a country gent. Did she see something she liked? Or was the darkening of her pupils something else? Was she struggling to forget what she’d seen?
He spied the flex of her fingers, the slight drift toward him her body took.
Dare he hope she wasn’t disgusted by him?
He dipped his head marginally, experimentally.
She didn’t retreat.
Holding her gaze, watching for any sign that she wanted to escape, he moved closer still.
Her lips lured him in. Hell, they practically begged to be kissed. A woman with a mouth like that should be kissed often and with passion.
A door at the end of the corridor thudded and when he snapped his head up, he saw the skirts of a maid vanishing around the corner.
