Page 67 of Snowbound Surrender

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “You think you hurt my feelings? Ridiculous.”

He might deny it, but she recognized what she’d seen cross his face.

“It’s not that I don’t like dancing or?—”

“Just not with me. Yes, I understood you quite well, madam.”

Anger kindled in her chest. “I have as much right to be annoyed with you, sirrah.”

Surprise wiped the grumpiness off his face. “How have I offended you?”

“You were betrothed last we met.”

He had the gall to look surprised. “Never.”

“I was told you were promised to another the spring I was here and we…” She waved her hands to fill in the rest of the sentence. Keeping her voice to a furious whisper, she continued. “You hurt me.”

“I didn’t— I couldn’t—” He shook his head, swallowed, and turned pale. If he had been a lady, she might have pulled out smelling salts. He turned back to the counter and banged on the counter. “Burns! Are you back there?”

“I’ll be there in a moment, Callum. Just getting these rolls in the oven.” A faint voice sounded from behind a plaid curtain.

Callum muttered something too low for her to hear and rocked on his feet before seeming to make a decision, cramming his hat on his head and whirling toward the door.

“You’re leaving without your bread?” Eleanor asked.

“I’m in a hurry.”

“Are you scared of me?” Eleanor had no idea where she got the gumption.

Callum turned to face her, his legs braced apart. “Scared? Of you? Are you mad?”

“I’m not the one running away. Again. It seems a fair conclusion.”

He shrugged, but his gaze slipped away from hers. “I wouldn’t want to subject you to my company any longer than necessary.”

Callum tried her resolve to remain distant and aloof from any attachments except her sister. She wanted to shake him by the shoulders and scold him. She wouldn’t though. Her impetuousness had led her into a disaster, and she had resolved to be more circumspect.

“You are being childish, Callum Paxton.”

He closed the distance between them to something that felt highly inappropriate. A distance that was even closer thandancing. She suspected he was attempting to intimidate her into backing down.

“I am no child.” His whisper was stony and rough.

This new Callum was intimidating and not childish in the least. He was a man. A man who had been damaged in some way she recognized in her soul. While she might not have a limp, she too had been injured.

The part of her that had diminished since her marriage to James rose to his challenge like a dormant seed sprouting in rich earth. She tried to tamp down the feeling. It was wholly ill-advised, especially with Callum. A man who had dallied with her feelings once already, didn’t seem to like her—or anyone else—at the moment, and yet…

She didn’t take a step back. She merely tilted her face to his and met his gaze. He blinked and his mouth softened. What did she see in his face? Confusion? Anger? Regret? Yes, to all counts, but also something darker and smokier. Something resembling…

Desire. The mere thought of it set her heart pumping faster. Heat kindled in her chest, and she could feel a blush inch its way up her neck into her cheeks. Still, she held his gaze. If she backed down now, he would know she was rattled.

“You didn’t let me explain myself earlier, you stubborn man.” She kept her voice at a whisper and gave him a half-truth. “I was only widowed six months hence. It would not be appropriate for me to dance with anyone.”

Did she sense a softening in his stance? She wasn’t sure because he still loomed over her. “I see you have shed your widow’s weeds. Do you still grieve him in your heart, Mrs. Denholm?”

It was an oddly intimate question to ask of her. Even worse, she didn’t know how to answer. Words should have leaped toher lips. She had had to defend James often enough she should have a script like any good actress walking the boards.

But she was sick of defending his honor when he had none. She was angry at herself for falling for his pretty words only to find ugliness on the other side of her vows.