Page 29 of For the Love of Lilah
She was doing it deliberately, there could be no doubt. Maybe she enjoyed watching him make a fool out of himself. “I’m busy.” He managed to tear his gaze away from her mouth and stared down at the list he was making. He couldn’t read a word. “Really busy,” he said almost desperately. “I’m trying to note down all the names of the people who worked here the summer Bianca died.”
“That’s quite an undertaking.” She leaned closer, delighted with his reaction to her. It had to be more than lust. A man didn’t fight so hard against basic lust. “Do you want some help?”
“No, no, it’s a one-man job.” And he wanted her to go away before he started to whimper.
“It must have been a terrible time here, after she died. Even worse for Christian, hearing about it, reading about it, and not being able to do anything. I think he loved her very much. Have you ever been in love?”
Once again, she drew his eyes back to hers. She wasn’t smiling now. There was no teasing light in her eyes. For some reason he thought it was the most serious question she had ever asked him.
“No.”
“Neither have I. What do you think it’s like?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you must have an opinion.” She leaned a little closer. “A theory. A thought.”
He was all but hypnotized. “It must be like having your own private world. Like a dream, where everything’s intensified, a bit off balance and completely yours.”
“I like that.” He watched her lips curve, could almost taste them. “Would you like to take a walk, Max?”
“A walk?”
“Yes, with me. Along the cliffs.”
He wasn’t even sure he could stand. “A walk would be good.”
Saying nothing, she offered him her hand. When he rose, she led him through the terrace doors.
The wind was up, pushing the clouds across a blue sky. It tore at Lilah’s skirts and sent her hair flying. Unconcerned, she strolled into it, her hand lightly clasped in his. They crossed the lawn and left the busy sounds of building behind.
“I’m not much on hiking,” she told him, “since I spend most days doing just that, but I like to go to the cliffs. There are very strong, very beautiful memories there.”
He thought again of all the men who must have loved her. “Yours?”
“No, Bianca’s, I think. And if you don’t choose to believe in such things, the view’s worth the trip.”
He started down the slope beside her. It felt easy, simple, even friendly. “You’re not angry with me anymore.”
“Angry?” Deliberately she lifted a brow. She had no intention of making things too simple. “About what?”
“The other night. I know I upset you.”
“Oh, that.”
When she added nothing else, he tried again. “I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Have you?” Her eyes, mysterious with secrets, lifted to his.
“Yes. I realize I probably didn’t handle it very well.”
“Would you like another chance?”
He stopped dead in his tracks and made her laugh.
“Relax, Max.” She gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. “Just give it some thought. Look, the mountain cranberry’s blooming.” She bent to touch a spray of pink bell-shaped flowers that clung to the rocks. Touch, but not pick, he noted. “It’s a wonderful time for wildflowers up here.” Straightening, she tossed her hair back. “See those?”
“The weeds?”
