Page 57 of Bookshop Cinderella

He then sent her a note requesting an appointment, and her rather alarming reply made him glad he’d taken such pains with his speech. She felt it would be best if they talked privately and suggested that he come to the bookshop that evening. The only reason he could think of for such a request threatened to reignite all the fire he’d spent three days putting out, and worse, it seemed to justify his worry that her feelings for him were deepening. Being such an innocent, she’d have no idea that her request was like lighting matches in a room full of gunpowder.

Still, it would have been cowardly to refuse. If he couldn’t refrain from hauling her into his arms at this point, he might as well jump off a cliff and save himself from any future torment. But just in case his carefully crafted speech wouldn’t be enough to let her down gently and soothe away any injured feminine feelings, he ordered a bouquet that afternoon from the Savoy’s florist, carefully choosing those blooms most appropriate for conveying what he needed to say: white orchids for apology, irises for affection, and yellow roses for friendship. Of course, his most honest feelings would have been most accurately portrayed by flaming orange lilies, but wisely, he didn’t include any of those.

With his bouquet in hand and his speech engrained in his memory, he stepped out of the cab in front of Harlow’s Bookshop that evening, and though he felt reasonably in control of the situation, he nonetheless paused with his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Evie?” he called as the bell over his head jangled.

She emerged from the back almost at once, but she hadn’t taken more than two steps into the main room before she came to an abrupt halt.

“Oh, no!” she cried, staring in obvious dismay at the tissue-wrapped bouquet in his hand. “You brought me flowers?”

Since she couldn’t see the blooms themselves, she couldn’t possibly have discerned the friendly message they were meant to convey, and he launched into speech before she could make any romantic assumptions. “It’s nothing much,” he said, removing his hat as she crossed the room to stand opposite him. “Just a posy to show my regard for our—”

“I can’t accept them.” She looked up at him, frowning. “You’re practically engaged.”

Since he’d met this girl, there were times when his plans for his future did seem to go straight out of his head, but he felt it necessaryto clarify the matter. “Helen would be stunned to hear it, since I’ve declared no such intention. Nor even hinted it, really, for it would be far too soon for such things. And I certainly haven’t kissed her,” he added wildly, and the moment those words were out of his mouth, he appreciated that this meeting was not starting out as he’d planned. Taking firm hold of his wits, he tried again. “Still, I do appreciate your point, and you have every right to think ill of me, but I brought you flowers because after what happened the other night—”

She groaned, interrupting this rather incoherent jumble of words. “I’m beginning to think Anna was right, after all.”

Max had no idea how to respond to such a singular remark. “I beg your pardon?”

“She warned me, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t believe it was possible, but I don’t think I can really be blamed for that. I mean...you and me?” She paused and gave a laugh, though he sensed she was not the least bit amused. “You could have any woman you wanted. It seemed ludicrous you’d ever pick me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t quite say that, Evie,” he said, impelled to correct such self-disparagement. “You’re a very attractive woman, as my...ahem...attentions the other night demonstrated—”

“Oh, Max, stop,” she cried, cutting him off again. “I fear you have developed an entirely wrong impression about me. Though after the other night,” she went on, her cheeks flushing pink, “I suppose you have some reason for expectation.”

“Expectation?” he echoed, now thoroughly at sea.

“And I realize that asking to meet privately like this might have served to fuel that expectation, but I couldn’t bear the idea of having this conversation in a hotel corridor or in whispers among a roomful of people, and after the other night, I felt it vital to set things straight between us as soon as possible. I should not want you to think...I wouldn’t have you believe...that is—” She broke off, sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, and burst out, “I can’t possibly become your mistress!”

With that astonishing declaration, every word of Max’s carefully crafted speech went straight out the window. “Good God, is that what you think? That I intend to make you my mistress?”

“I didn’t think that, not at first. Anna did warn me that it was a possibility, but I dismissed her concerns. After all, you are courting someone!”

“Quite so,” he muttered, not sure what else to say.

“And I should hate to think that you would ever behave dishonorably toward her or me. But you did say it’s not a love match, and men of your class do seem to acquire mistresses as a matter of course, no matter who they might be intending to marry. Why, many of you even have mistresses after you’re married—”

“Evie,” he cut in, to no avail.

“And you are paying for my stay at the Savoy, and you did insist on buying me those clothes, and I let you, which in hindsight I realize I never should have done. And the two of us were meeting in secret, after all, and dancing, and...and—” She broke off amid this rambling tangle of words, and the pink in her cheeks deepened to scarlet. “And you did kiss me.”

As she spoke, it began to sink into his brain just how all his actions would seem if one put them in the worst possible light. Worse, his thoughts, as well as his actions, had proved there was a grain of truth in her words, and he felt more dismayed by his actions than ever. “Evie—”

“And I kissed you back, and now, you’re bringing me flowers, which seems to confirm that my actions encouraged you to believe I’m the sort of girl who would fall into unsavory liaisons. I hate to think that’s your goal, because I do like you. I didn’t at first, of course. I thought you cynical and rude and snobbish and most high-handed. But then, I began to believe my initial impression was a bit harsh—”

“A bit?”

She didn’t seem to notice the wry note of his voice. “And later, when you said we ought to be friends, you were so affable and charming about it all, that I did start to like you.”

Max slid his gaze irresistibly to her lips. “I like you, too,” he murmured.

“But if you have come to propose an illicit arrangement,” she went on as if she hadn’t heard, “it would certainly ruin our friendship, since I could never have a friend who would be so duplicitous—”

“Evie, please stop.” Unable to bear it any longer, he dropped the flowers to the floor beside him and reached out, cupping her cheek and pressing his thumb to her mouth, an unthinking gesture meant only to enable him to get a word in, but her lips were so warm and her cheek so velvety soft that his resolve faltered, proving he was still far too vulnerable where she was concerned, and he jerked his hand back.

“Please allow me to reassure you,” he said, and his hat joined the flowers on the floor as he clasped his hands safely together behind his back. “I appreciate your blunt honesty and your justifiable apprehensions, but it was never my intent to impugn your virtue or your honor. I am fully aware you are not the sort of girl to willingly allow a man to take the liberties I took the other night.”

---