Page 153 of Beyond the Cottage

Her skin heated to an inappropriate degree. He swallowed, and her eyes tracked it, lowering to his shirt’s open top button and the little valley where his throat met his chest.

She was pushing the boundaries of professional behavior, but Nat hadn’t said anything about looking.

She rested her elbows on the table, belatedly recalling what blouse she’d chosen. This time, Ansel didn’t hide where his eyes landed.

“What have you been working on?” she asked.

“I’m still tweaking the repellent. I also intend to develop additional methods of application. Skin creams and powders, most likely.”

“I’ll look into cosmetic partnerships. Someday, you’ll be richer than Nat.”

He shrugged, expression shuttering. Moving away from her, he capped the microscope and stacked some papers. Gretta heard thewrap-it-upmusic playing.

She grasped at anything to keep the conversation going. “Anyway… What do you think of city life? I imagine it’s been an adjustment.”

“It’s dirty, crowded, and the costs are daylight robbery. Good food, though.”

“Did you try pixish yet?”

“I did. It’s light for my tastes, but I enjoyed it. A new acquaintance turned me on to trollish food, actually.”

Gretta suppressed a frown.

Who had he been dining with?Acquaintancecould mean anything; his new barber, an old man from down the street. A lovely woman he picked up at the pub.

“You’re making friends, then?” she asked. As he studied her face, she forced ajust making chitchatexpression.

He languidly leaned on the table. “I’ve met people.”

“Good for you.” She pushed the words through her tight throat. “Where are you meeting them?”

“Here and there.”

“I’m surprised you have the time.”

He shrugged with a cocky smile. “One makes time when properly incentivized.”

Were hereyeswatering? She’d known he’d eventually replace her in his bed, and she’d lost the right to care when she chose the repellent.

But did he have to do it so damnsoon?

Blinking fast, Gretta picked up an open notebook and pretended to read. As she turned a page, he shifted closer.

“My notes,” he said, tone softening. “On magic’s effect on cells. I’m revisiting your idea about publishing.”

“Hm.” She flipped another page, nearly ripping it.

He came up behind her, so close she felt his body heat, so close she scented that dark, comforting whatever-it-was he smelled like.

Reaching around her, he gently took the book from her hands. “Easy. I only have the one copy.”

“Mm-hmm, yep. Sorry.” She spun, her nose an inch from his chest.

They weren’t touching. No rules had been broken. But he took up the whole room, absorbed all the air. To breathe again, she slid to the side, escaping.

“I guess I should get going,” she said, lifting her blouse’s neckline. What the hell had she been thinking when she put it on?

Ansel stood still. Though her eyes were fixed on a chalkboard full of equations, she felt him watching her.

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