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I laugh and shift my attention back to his annoyingly handsome face. If only he were uglier, maybe it would be easier to ignore how nice his touch makes me feel.
“What?” He arches a brow. “He won’t believe me if I say the sex is mediocre. I don’t have mediocre sex.”
I roll my eyes. “No, I just meant… I was thinking the same thing. That I’ll have to pretend it’s casual for at least a few days or Annie won’t believe me when I confess that I’m catching feels.”
He grunts. “Catching feels? Makes love sound like a virus.”
“Appropriate, right?”
His lips twitch. “Indeed. I may have to add that to my lexicon. I lost patience with modern slang in the Jazz Age, with all the ‘bees knees’ and ‘cat’s pajamas’ nonsense, but that’s too spot on to dismiss outright.”
“I always thought the nineteen twenties looked fun.” I turn my lips down, affecting an exaggerated frown. “But you were probably stuffy and allergic to fun back then, too? Weren’t you?”
“I’ll show you who’s allergic to fun,” he says as he spins me into an elaborate turn, making me giggle and eventually beg for mercy for my two left feet. After ensuring I’m too dizzy to stand up straight, he lifts me into the air with one powerful arm around my waist, letting my feet dangle as he continues to guide us in intricate patterns around the floor.
“Much better,” I say with a sigh, clinging to his shoulders as we spin. “This may be the first time I’ve ever enjoyed dancing.”
“I believe this is called ‘being toted around the floor like a sack of potatoes,’ not dancing. But I can teach you how to dance, if you’d like. It’s a good skill to have in your back pocket, especially at weddings.”
“But we won’t be attending a wedding,” I remind him. “Not anytime soon.”
“No, we won’t,” he says, his face drifting closer to mine. “Because we’re going to fool everyone into thinking we’re madly in love and put an end to this misguided engagement before it’s too late.”
“We are,” I whisper a beat before his lips press against mine.
I twine my arms around his neck and abandon myself to the kiss, knowing better than to try to fight it. I’m helpless against this man’s lips, but that’s a good thing. Our obvious chemistry will help save my sister from a miserable marriage. And once Darcy and I are finished playing pretend for Colin and Annie, we can go back to keeping a respectable distance between us at all times.
This is going to be fine.
Torturous, but fine.
I would walk through fire for my sister. I can make out with a man who turns my heart to mush and then walk away and forget his touch filled me with this strange joyful, hopeful feeling. Of course, I can.
I’m tough. Strong.
And if I have to handcuff myself to my bed to keep from slipping out my window and dashing across the lawn to Darcy’s cottage later tonight, then so be it. I will do what I have to do. It’s what I’ve always done, and I’m still the same woman I was before I came to Nightfall.
Are you sure about that? My inner voice’s dreamy, kiss-addled voice sends foreboding shivering through my chest.
It’s time to take a few precautionary measures to protect my own heart, as well as Annie’s, and I can get started first thing in the morning.
But right now…
I have no choice but to be swept away, seduced by this night that would be the most romantic of my life.
If it were real.
But it’s not, and I would be a fool to forget it.
Chapter Seventeen
Blaire
Sunday, October 26th
Sunday morning, Annie and I are both up and about by nine, despite hitting the sheets in the wee hours the night before. But Annie has her first quilting circle with Sophie, the librarian, and her friends today, and I intend to take advantage of that fact to sneak into the abandoned library and return the book I stole last week.
And to do some more research while I’m at it…
