Page 16

His breathing seemed rough, too, as if her touch aroused him, and he kissed her harder, held her tighter, tangling his tongue with hers.

He urged her back against a smooth wooden post, pressing his body into hers, and Lily snaked her arms around his neck, holding him to her, deepening the kiss with a strangled groan.

She felt him everywhere, her breasts, her thighs, the tingling in her belly blossoming into a potent ache begging for relief.

“Frederick, my God…” She gasped the words into his mouth, and he grunted his agreement before taking her lips again, gliding his hands down her back to cup her buttocks.

He trapped her against him, and a whimper escaped Lily’s lips at the contact, the press of his lower body an exquisite torment. She squirmed, rubbing her aching flesh against the hard ridge of his erection, intensifying both the ache and the pleasure.

She was losing all semblance of control, over this moment, over her body, and she gloried in the loss. She reveled in it. And she never wanted it to end.

“Lily, dear? Where have you disappeared to?”

Gran’s voice intruded from outside the barn, penetrating the haze of lust clouding Lily’s mind—and judgment. She slid her arms from around Frederick’s neck and blew out a slow breath to calm her heart and cool her flushed cheeks.

“Well,” she said, her voice unsteady, “as much as I would love to stay here with you all day...” Or forever. “ ...we really must get to work. There is much to do today.”

Frederick, looking thoroughly ravished with his mussed hair and boyish half-smile, nodded and said, “Yes, boss.”

Lily sidestepped out of his arms and in the direction of the door. “If you need me, I'll be in the vegetable garden.”

“Yes, boss.”

Battling a smile, she tore her gaze from his and turned to leave, but then Frederick’s strong arms snaked around her waist and eased her back against his chest. He nuzzled her neck, his warm lips sending shivers of pleasure prickling across her skin.

“Frederick,” she said with a gasping laugh, “you have to let me go.”

He nipped her earlobe gently with his teeth, making her gasp again, and then he whispered, “Yes, boss.”

His arms slipped from her waist as he stepped away, taking his delicious warmth with him, and Lily was certain this was the only time she had ever been disappointed to see an order obeyed.

She turned to face him, and he smiled at her, looking so devilishly handsome she couldn’t keep from popping up on her toes and pressing a kiss to his smiling lips.

“You are incorrigible,” she scolded with a smile.

And then she scurried out of the barn before he could tempt her to stay again.

“There you are,” Gran said as Lily stepped into the inn’s front hall, where her grandmother was sweeping. “I thought you had disappeared on me.”

“I’m sorry, Gran,” Lily said, shutting the door behind her. “Frederick is here, and I was showing him what needs repairing in the barn.”

“Ah. Well, that explains the long absence, and that dreamy smile on your face.”

Lily blushed. “What dreamy smile?”

Gran sent her a chiding look. “It won’t do, dear. I know a young woman in love when I see one. Especially when she happens to be my favorite granddaughter.”

Lily’s lips parted, partly to reply but mostly out of pure, paralyzing shock.

A young woman in love?

She was willing to admit she was smitten with Frederick, but... love?

No. No . She could not be in love with him. Loving him would be far too complicated, far too stupid, and she was too responsible to have allowed that to happen.

For heaven’s sake, he was leaving soon. What kind of fool would she be if she fell for a man she knew would leave her?

“I cannot claim to know Mr. Darrington’s heart as well as yours,” Gran said softly, “but anyone can see he cares for you. Has he talked to you? Has he declared his intentions?”

Lily swept past her and began tidying the already-tidy desk, exorcising her agitation with actions instead of words. “Of course he hasn’t,” she said evenly. “And I don’t want him to. Nothing has changed, Gran. I have no wish to marry.”

It was a lie, of course, and they both knew it. She wasn’t ready to admit it, though, not to her grandmother and not to herself.

But neither could she deny it.

Frederick entered his bedchamber that evening, bone-tired, with aching shoulders, throbbing feet and a blister the size of a pea on his right thumb. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so satisfied.

Easing into the Chesterfield armchair before the fire crackling cozily in the hearth, he set about removing his boots, eager for a long, hot bath.

Physical labor was good for a man’s soul; he was convinced of it. He enjoyed the work, and the way it made him feel at the end of the day—like he’d accomplished something. Like he’d done some good.

Of course, any day was a good day with Lily close by. She was good for his soul, too. She made everything better, just by being there, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of her eloquent, incandescent eyes or the sly smiles and sardonic remarks that continually kept him on his toes.

He was beginning to suspect he might be addicted to her.

Kicking off his second boot, Frederick sat back in his chair and stretched his legs out toward the fire just as a knock sounded at the door.

Rather than leave the comfort of his chair, he called out for the visitor to enter.

The door opened and his sister’s voice followed. “Freddy?”

“Over here, Pen.” He raised an arm above his head. “I’m not late for dinner, am I?”

“No, no,” Penelope said, over the soft click of the door shutting closed. “Dinner isn’t for another hour. I just thought I’d ask about your day and find out what has put you in such a cheerful mood.”

She joined him at the fire, dropping onto the chair beside his, and Frederick turned his head to look at her.

“What makes you think I’m in a cheerful mood?”

He was, of course, but why should she know that?

Penelope met his gaze and smiled. “I could hear you whistling from the other end of the corridor.”

“Ah.” His cheeks warmed. Had he been whistling? Christ, he hadn’t even noticed.

“Well?” his sister prodded with undisguised curiosity. “Did something good happen to you today?”

Lily’s teasing eyes and kiss-plumped lips flashed through his mind, but that particular something good was none of his sister’s business. She would have to settle for half the truth.

“It was a good day,” he said. “I spent most of it swinging a hammer.” He stuck out his thumb to show off his new blister, smiling like a young lad who’d just caught his first trout.

Pen arched a single brow, eyeing his thumb with something akin to disbelief. “A...hammer.”

He nodded. “There were some repairs to be done in the barn. Broken fencing and rotting shutters. Nothing significant.”

Penelope blinked at him. “I had no idea you knew how to use a hammer.”

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I learned by doing and, strange as it may sound, I rather enjoyed the work.”

She was silent for a long beat, staring at him as if she hardly recognized him, and then she said, “Do you know, I think you mean that. I think you truly did enjoy it.”

He had to laugh at the utter astonishment in her voice. “And I only smashed my thumb with the hammer once, which I think is rather good for a beginner, don’t you?”

But she did not smile at his jest, instead chewing on her lower lip, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. “Oh, Freddy. I’m so sorry.”

Now it was Frederick’s turn to stare. Penelope was a kind woman with a loving heart, but she did not go around handing out apologies willy-nilly.

“Sorry for what?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“For misjudging you and underestimating you.” She sighed. “I should not have distrusted your intentions at the inn.”

He blinked in surprise then sat back in his chair, a grim smile curving his lips. “Yes, you should have.”

“No, I shouldn’t,” she argued. “I wrongly assumed you’d orchestrated these visits to get close to Lily, but you truly are helping her and her grandmother.”

“I am,” he said quietly. “But you were right to question my intentions. They were not entirely pure.”

Not that they’d ever been nefarious, of course, but he had made the offer to work at the inn in the hopes it would lead to more time with Lily.

“I see,” Penelope said slowly, her brow knit, as if she wasn’t sure what to make of the admission. “And are your intentions pure now?”

Frederick leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, staring into the fire as he considered how to answer.

“No,” he finally admitted. “Not entirely. I enjoy working at the inn more than I expected to, but I wouldn’t be nearly so keen if Lily weren’t there. I know you warned me to stay away from her, Pen, but I don’t want to. In fact, I never want to be apart from her.”

The words slipped out, smooth and wily, as if they’d been perched on the tip of his tongue, waiting for just the right moment to leap.

He fell back in his chair, stunned by the revelation. Stunned, too, by how good it sounded, how right it felt, the prospect of spending his life with Lily. Even the thought made the future seem brighter.

“I had no idea you felt that way, Freddy,” Penelope said softly, her own surprise evident in her voice. “Does Lily feel the same for you?”

He raked a hand through his hair, uncertainty rolling over him in waves. “I think so. Maybe.” Bollocks . “I don’t know.”

“Well, you have to ask her, of course. You cannot leave Little Bilberry without knowing how she feels.”

Despite his roiling emotions, a sardonic smile curled his lips. “You’ve certainly changed your tune. Not so very long ago, you threatened to maim me if I went anywhere near Lily.”

“That was last week,” she said, waving his words away with a flick of her hand. “I see now how much you care for her, and how happy you two could be together.”

Frederick’s smile dimmed. “She might refuse me,” he pointed out, the thought sending a bolt of panic through his chest.

“And she might not,” Penelope shot back. “She may very well accept you.”

But were the odds in his favor or were they against him? Lily seemed to enjoy being with him and he thought she cared for him, but would she marry him? Would she— could she—let him into her carefully cultivated life?

He honestly couldn’t say, which meant his sister was right, and there was only one way he would know for certain.

He would have to talk to Lily.

If he was brave enough to do it.