Page 19 of Miss Hawthorne’s Unlikely Husband (The Troublemakers Trilogy #3)
She wasn’t crying at least. She didn’t seem overly upset at all. She shook her head ruefully. “I don’t know if that is better or worse.” She let out a short laugh and rolled her eyes. “I have half a mind to demand reparations.”
That statement shocked a laugh out of him. “And what exactly would you be demanding as payment?”
“A—” that audacity faded away as a thought occurred to her. He could all but see it click in place in her head and settle over her face. He knew what she would ask for before she said it, but he wasn’t sure she would ask. “A kiss,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on her hands.
“A what?” He didn’t know why he was pushing it.
“A kiss,” she repeated, lifting her head. There she was. Nervous, shy, but there. “I was saving so much for you, but now it seems a wasted effort.”
“Ah.” He had no idea what to do with his face.
“It is a small enough concession.”
Perhaps, but it was still a damned cheeky thing to ask for. It was, however, too adorably like the old her, he couldn’t help but tease her. “Interesting.”
“You would be willing to accept the terms?” Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Provided you had the courage to collect,” he replied. There was a horrible curiosity in him that wondered how far her courage or boldness would take her.
Her lips parted in outrage. “You think I don’t?”
“I think you won’t,” he corrected, leaning back against the window and tilting his head in consideration. Was it ridiculous that he was enjoying himself? He’d missed her, missed this so damned much.
Her eyes narrowed. “What will you give me if I do?”
Greedy little thing. “The kiss is already a payment, you want something else now?”
“That is a separate issue entirely.” She took a step forward, her boldness growing by the second.
“How mercenary of you.”
“Do you agree?” She asked.
He let out a breath and adjusted his seat by the window. “Are you in earnest?”
“Unless you think you can’t handle a little kiss,” she teased with a smug smile.
“I’m wondering what on earth you learned in that school.
” She was dazzling. He still couldn’t decide whether to give into her or send her on her way.
In a way, if he called it off, she could take it as him being worried about his reaction to her.
On the other hand, allowing this madness to continue could prove his point to her, give her what she needed to move on and return them to some semblance of normalcy.
She lifted her eyebrows expectedly and he couldn’t keep the smile from his face. One kiss. If it helped her move on, if it gave her back the spark that made her her , then it was well worth the momentary awkwardness. Even if it was playing with the worst kind of fire.
“Come along then.” He nodded towards her.
She blinked rapidly. “Really?”
“One kiss, one time, as payment for ten years of—”
“—useless waiting,” she finished.
He pursed his lips against a smile. “Yes. Those are the terms I agree to. The minute you leave the room, that agreement will be null and void. And we will never revisit this again.”
“And if I have the courage, as you say, to collect, what will I get?”
“Respect,” he replied flatly.
She pulled a face, almost rolling her eyes, and again he couldn’t help his smile. She was enchanting even when she was being a brat. “Agreed.”
He nodded. “Well then, you have the room, Miss Hawthorne.”
He stayed where he was, at the window, watching as the reality of what she’d said and done sank in. She swallowed hard as her eyes darted around the room.
“Are you just going to sit there?” She finally asked.
He raised his eyebrows. “I’m waiting.”
She frowned at him in bewilderment. “I thought you were going to kiss me.”
He smiled. “Oh no. If you want your payment then you need to come and claim it yourself, Miss Hawthorne.”
“But—” she stopped herself from saying more, then he watched her fiddle with her fingers again.
For a moment he thought he’d won. That he had correctly gauged her.
But then she squared her shoulders and walked over to where he sat with halting but ultimately resolute steps.
Sitting down as he was, she was just about his height.
She was so damned close to him now, closer than they had ever been before.
Her spiced perfume was heady and his heart was positively galloping in his chest. He dropped his folded arms and maintained an even stare partly in an attempt to unnerve her, and partly to distract her from the iron grip his hands now had on the edge of the window seat.
He couldn’t back down now, even if his stomach was writhing with what he told himself was discomfort, not anticipation. That it was her scent making him lightheaded, not the nervous eagerness in Elodia’s dark eyes.
Her fingertips brushed his jaw, and his mouth went dry.
Christ, was she really going to do it? Was he proud of her or terrified?
Her touch lingered like a cool feather drifting over his cheek to behind his ear.
He’d been touched before, but it had never made his throat ache like this.
Was it her hesitation? She was too focused on him as if she were waiting for him to stop her as she leaned forward slowly, searching for a sign that he wanted something different.
For all her boldness and talk of what she was owed, she didn’t truly believe she deserved this.
She didn’t believe he owed her anything.
She was treating him and his kiss like an unexpected gift and he didn’t know how to react to it.
He couldn’t remember anyone ever touching him like that.
The effect was almost painful, like blood rushing back into a numb limb.
He couldn’t pull away or avoid her even if he wanted to.
That was another truth. So much of him was curious as to what it would be like to be kissed by her when her touch made him ache so beautifully.
If he was going to truly give her up for good, then he would allow himself to have a taste first.
At the first brush of her plush lips, his grip on the windowsill tightened and he breathed in sharply.
She drew away far enough to look at him, wide eyed and anxious.
Eager and terrified all at once. When he didn’t move, she pressed her lips to his again, this time with a little more certainty.
Simple, almost chaste, but it stole the air from his lungs.
No matter his determination to keep his hands where they were, he couldn’t help leaning into her, parting his lips slightly while she adjusted, moving her focus to his top lip.
If she didn’t stop, the wood was going to snap off in his hands at any moment.
He felt the moment she began to pull back, and it took everything in him not to chase after her lips.
He wanted to feel them again, to part that soft mouth and taste her, to pull her closer and wrap himself up in that sweet earnest affection until it seeped into his skin.
Was this what it felt like to be touched by someone who cared?
It was monstrous to get this feeling as a farewell.
What the fuck was he meant to do now? He didn’t want to let her go, but he knew better than anyone he had no right to take what she wanted to offer.
Her father no doubt had plans for his precious daughter and they would not include a Chinese tradesman as a son-in-law.
No one had plans to include him in their family.
Her mouth finally left his, and he opened his eyes to see hers still shut, her face almost rapturous.
If he wanted more he could have it, but now that he wanted more, the fact that it wasn’t real made her presence as painful as her absence no doubt would be.
A kiss under the auspices of payment or settling a score wasn’t a basis for anything.
She took two breaths then leaned forward again.
He couldn’t do it. He had to put an end to this. He’d let it go too far already.
He jerked backwards, and her eyes flew open, her hands falling away. “You said one kiss, Miss Hawthorne,” he reminded her, even if the words tasted bitter after her mouth.
She gasped softly, her gaze shifting away from his as she fiddled with the flower ring on her index finger. She nodded and took a step back. “So I did. My apologies.”
He half expected her to bring up the issue of her reward for winning their challenge. He could mention it. It would give them both what they wanted; to extend this moment a little longer. But it would muddy the water even more.
He’d drawn the line for both their sakes, and the reasons hadn’t really changed, even if his feelings had. He was still not an appropriate choice for her. It was better to let the lie stay there rather than allow her to discover a painful truth about the world she lived in.
If he trusted his legs, he would stand up. As it was, he opted to fold his arms. “It’s no matter. I believe our business is concluded, Miss Hawthorne.”
She took another step backwards and drew a deep breath, pressing her lips together. He wondered if they were still tingling as his were. “Indeed, Mr. Thornfield, thank you for your time. Good day.”
He nodded once and watched her leave quickly, her heels clicking sharply on the wood floor.