Page 40 of An Enchanted Spring
Never before had she had such little control over her vision.
Emma drank in every detail of him. Every well-defined muscle in his chest, arms, stomach, and back rippled as he parried. He looked as though he’d recently spent time in the sun. Aidan’s face was tightened into lines of concentration, but every once in a while he’d throw out a laugh and her heart would kick into high gear. He was taller than Colin, and there wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body. Broad shoulders gave way to a muscled back.
Amazing. She’d never noticed how attractive a man’s back could be.
It seemed they were verbally sparring as well, though she couldn’t hear them. The harder one laughed, the harder the other fought. Aidan’s forearms bunched with each clash of the blades, and he also had tattoos around his arms, similar in style to Colin’s. She couldn’t make out the details, but it looked like Celtic knots or some sort of vines.
She continued to shamelessly admire Aidan from the safety of the library. His chest was sculpted, with incredible pecs that flexed menacingly with his sword fighting. Hisstomach had more muscles than she thought humanly possible, and just the sight of his obliques inexplicably sped her breathing. From this height, she could just make out a happy trail, and she suddenly had an intense desire to follow that trail wherever it would take her.
Emma almost slapped herself. She was being fanciful and ridiculous.Get a grip!she chided herself.Work ethic, Perkins. Dig it out from under that avalanche of lust.
She refused to think of the kiss last night. He was way out of her league, anyway. He was wealthy, model-gorgeous, knew how to wear a medieval léine, and was, she admitted, a great kisser. The man did things with his tongue that made her—
She blew out a breath slowly.Do. Not. Think. Of. That.Apparently, after convincing her they didn’t exist, her hormones finally decided to make an appearance in her life.
She was not appreciative of their timing.
When the two men finally paused for a water break, Emma decided it was time to stop ogling and get down to her reading.
The trouble was, history didn’t hold a candle to her present day.
“Ow!”
Emma shook her hand and glared at the fancy espresso/latte/coffee device in Colin’s kitchen. It looked harmless when she first approached it, but the moment she touched the damn thing, it spit and hissed like a wild, caged animal.
Because she was the first one up today, she thought it might be nice to make coffee. Colin always seemed to have some ready for her and anyone else who wanted it, so when she awoke, she padded down the gorgeous white-and-oakstairs, her steps muffled on the beautiful oriental stair treads. Her bare toes sank into the thick carpet in the main hallway on the way to the stunning chef’s kitchen, and she marveled at the house’s cleanliness.
Except the office, she reminded herself with a chuckle.
She placed her hands on her hips and returned her attention to the problem at hand. She never actually saw Colin make the coffee; she wasn’t sure where to put the grounds.
She glanced at the maple cabinets above the caramel-colored granite counters and let out a sigh. She didn’t even know which one would contain coffee.
She spied a little red lever on the angry machine and the box of English Breakfast tea on the counter. After a quick search, she located the coffee mugs and placed a bag in one. She placed her cup under the spout and had her finger on the lever when a rumble of laughter from behind stopped her cold.
“I wouldn’t use that one, lass.” Aidan walked into the kitchen, dressed in a black tee and running shorts, a towel around his neck. “That starts the foamer.”
“Foamer?” she echoed, carefully removing her hand.
“Aye. I don’t know why he doesn’t have a normal pot, like the rest of mankind.”
She looked down at her cup. “Well, perhaps I won’t have any tea, either.”
“Either?”
She removed the bag and placed her cup back in the cabinet. “Well, at first I thought it would be nice if I made coffee for everyone, since Colin always has it made for everyone else. When I hit the on switch, it spit at me and burned my hand.”
“It spit at you,” Aidan repeated, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“Yes,” she said firmly, “it spit at me. Then I realized that Ididn’t know where the coffee was, so I gave up that plan. I saw the tea and thought I’d make a cup, but, well, you know how that went.” She glared at the machine. “I don’t like this thing.”
Aidan walked around the island between them, and she suddenly felt like…prey.
Was there a word for prey that wanted to be caught?
No, no, no. Stop it. He’s just going to show me how to—
He stopped directly in front of her, his body inches from hers, and slowly leaned in. Emma’s breath hitched, and her body went on full alert, her senses hyperaware of him. His clean scent filled her nose, and his nearness turned her knees to jelly. When her eyes locked on his clean-shaven face, it took every fiber of her being not to rise up on her toes and run her tongue along his jawline.
