Page 127 of Beyond the Cottage

Silence stretched, crackling with energy. The bustling restaurant seemed to disappear around them.

“…What happened in her bedroom?” Ansel asked.

His deepening voice spread a warm flush through Gretta. The ache between her legs sent up a flare, warning her this was getting out of hand, that she was taking it too far. She ought to finish the story by telling him the troll helped the nymph with her taxes, or something.

Except…she didn’twantto.

Gretta leaned on her elbows, letting her scandalous neckline dip lower, gratified when Ansel noticed. “Our heroic troll carried the nymph to her bed. In the tussle, her hair had come loose, and her gown had torn at the shoulder. Panting, she asked if he was quite sure the bullet hadn’t grazed her.”

“A good bodyguard is nothing if not thorough,” Ansel said to her cleavage.

“Mm-hmm. So he ran his palms down her arms, up her ribs, checking for injuries. He found none, but he accidentally grazed her breast. Their gazes locked. They both stopped breathing. He expected her to scorn him, to run off screaming. Surely, she’d fire him on the spot.”

Ansel’s voice went deeper. “But she didn’t.”

“Not a chance. The nymph arched her back to give him better access, and the torn sleeve slipped down her shoulder. She moaned, shocked by her desires, but helpless to resist them.”

He shifted in his chair. “Liked him that much, did she?”

“Shecravedhim. She knew she shouldn’t, it could only end in disaster. But her hands roamed his chest, his stomach, going lower to stroke his—”

“May I take your bill?”

Ansel blinked. He slammed back in his chair like he’d been caught fondling Greta under the table. She’d always liked this server, but just then, she could have happily shot him.

The man politely waited, and she sighed. “I’m still on Senator Grey’s tab.” She scrawled her name on the bill and left a tip on the table. “Thanks for everything.”

With a nod, the server wandered off, and Ansel straightened. Gretta took her time finishing a dinner roll, trying to swallow a lump of anxiety.

She wasn’t ready for this to end. The night had been more fun than she could remember having in years, maybe ever. So what was her next move?

What did shewant?

For damn sure, she was sick of pretending they were normal friends. It had become another losing battle, and like the nymph, Gretta had never been much good at resisting temptation. Sure, their chemistry might eventually flame out. Yes, things could get complicated.

But fuck it. Hadn’t their friendship survived worse?

Ansel stood and pushed in his chair. “Thank you for dinner. It was pleasant.”

How do I keep this going?

Gretta brightened. “Your case! You need to come pick it up.”

He nodded, and she looped her arm in his. She had another half hour to convince him to seize the forbidden with her.

Chapter 44

They climbed into a hack, and as it carried them off, Ansel watched the city pass by. The night air held a crisp edge he wasn’t used to. Fog hung from it, diffusing light from the gas lamps until everything appeared wrapped in gauze. He’d expected traffic to thin out after dark, but weekend revelers roamed the sidewalks, and carriages clogged the thoroughfare.

Dinner had been filled with easy chatting, but now his tension returned. Their night was ending. The morning loomed large. Also, he couldn’t stop thinking about Gretta’s absurd, sexy story. Her taste in plotlines had certainly evolved over the years.

“There’s the chancellor’s residence,” she said, flipping her hand at a palatial white mansion set back from the street. “If Nat gets his way, he’ll be living in it next year.”

“The senator is running for chancellor?”

“He hasn’t officially announced it yet, but he will soon. If you can believe it, he’s been pestering Philip about becoming his chief of staff.”

Ansel grunted. If the senator fired Gretta and promoted Philip, he deeply questioned the man’s fitness for office.