Page 10 of If The Fates Allow
“Ailments of the mind can be as debilitating as physical ones.”
Willa blinked at him standing there, looking handsome in the candlelight. Her mother always kept Haven well-lit during The Gathering. There wouldn’t be a dark corner or shadowed spot anywhere on the ground floor.
Yet in the flickering glow, shadows played across Noah Anderson’s outrageously handsome face, giving him an almost sinister appearance. In truth, the dance of dark and light only increased his beauty, if a man could be called beautiful, and made her want to inch closer to see if he might truly be the devil in disguise.
“Are you implying that my lungs’ inability to function properly is all in my head?” she asked casually as she fiddled with lace trim on her white kid gloves.
“It’s happened before.”
He waited as she mulled over his words, clearly not realizing that the debate going on in her mind had nothing to do with whether he was correct or not. Finally, after deciding not to hurl him and his implied diagnosis right down the stairs, Willa looked down her nose at him. “I am not upset by crowds, Dr. Anderson.”
“Noah, if you please.”
He was testing her. Gauging to see if her reaction was indeed from some unknown hysteria or, worse, from him.
“I would love to join in the festivities. To dance and engage with people I am not related to or even possibly have a conversation with a person who does not have fur.”
He let out a short laugh. “Cats are not people.”
“Well, they certainly converse better than most.”
“Only because the conversation is one-sided.”
It was her turn to squelch a smile. “Not true. Bonnie has a tabby who is quite vocal when he disapproves of something.”
The noise in the hall grew in volume as the foremen from the mill arrived with their families. It was the one time of the year Stephen Fairweather permitted them admittance into his home.
Noah joined her at the banister. “A full house tonight,” he remarked, his mouth entirely too close to her ear. “Will the mill workers arrive next?”
A heaviness settled in, his words carrying more weight than he realized. “The workers do not come anymore. Only the supervisors and their families are invited.”
“Why don’t the workers come?”
Willa turned to speak directly to him and sucked in a sharp slice of air, her head nearly knocking into his. He was close—too close—his face mere inches from hers. Not that she minded. He smelled delicious, and his jawline was still in need of a shave, the dark stubble making her wonder if it felt as rough as it looked. Maybe she might like to run her tongue across…
Tongue?
Good heavens.
Her spine snapped straight. What on earth was wrong with her?
“I’m going to be working with them,” Noah went on as if the world hadn’t tipped on its axis, knocking her off their earthly plane and straight into the pits of a harlot’s hell. “My plan is to care for the mill workers until my time is up here. There’s a small building between our property and yours, and I mean to utilize it. Although it will probably take me until I leave to get it sorted.”
“That will be lovely,” she replied, determined to keep her mind from wandering. “And needed.”
Their gazes connected when he heard the tremor in her voice, and Willa imagined this was what it must feel like to stand on a mountaintop.Dizzying heights and thin air, where the urge to jump feet first off a cliff became as loud as the heartbeat in your ears.
“Willa, are you positive you’re alright?”
Why did his eyes continuously seek her mouth? Was there something on it? Had she not wiped all the cream from her lips after sneaking a pastry with Bonnie before retiring to her perch on the stairs?
“Willa?” His baritone voice had the hairs on her arms standing straight up. “Answer me.”
She almost didn’t, wanting to hear him say her name again. “I’m fine.”
“Since you keep insisting that you’re fine, even though you’re breathless every time we speak,” giving her room, he lowered himself to the step below, “then will you do me the honor of taking a turn about the party with me.”
“Excuse me?” Oh, dear. That had come out louder than she expected. “Me?”
