Page 33 of Calling on the Matchmaker
When he’d gone to stir the fire, he sensed a shift in her mood. That’s when he’d known she was acting upon the list. As he listened to her soft tread draw nearer, he tried not to act too eager. But truthfully, the moment she glided her fingers over his back, he’d become thoroughly and completely addicted to her.
He hadn’t been able to get enough of her touch, had wanted her hands to roam freely wherever they pleased, had been nearto groaning by the time she blazed a trail to his shoulder. It hadn’t taken long for her movements to become slower and hesitant. He’d known she was pulling away, too innocent to carry through with much more than a simple back hug and arm graze.
Whatever the case, before she could rush away, he’d stepped in and prodded her along, pulling her around and giving her access to more of him. It hadn’t taken much more prompting for her to initiate the kiss. From the tentativeness of her touch, he suspected it was her first. And for a reason he couldn’t explain, that thought pleased him immensely.
The question was, had she kissed him because she was attracted to him and found him irresistible? Or had she done so because she’d hoped to make him dislike her?
Either way, she opened up to him and let him kiss her back, and she liked the kiss enough that she hadn’t ended it right away.
He smiled again just thinking of the way her fingers had tightened against his arms and the way she held her mouth to his for a moment longer than necessary.
Seeing his mirth, she glared at him, the blue of her eyes icy enough to freeze the river. “You’re toying with me.”
“Me? Toying withyou?” He started across the room toward her. He wanted her again, and this time he intended to let her know that no matter what she might do to thwart the attraction between them, it wasn’t going away.
As he drew nearer, her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“The question is, what areyoudoing?” He didn’t stop.
“I’m not doing anything.” She moved away from him until she bumped into the settee and tumbled backward onto it. “You’re the one who gave my brother a list of falsehoods.”
He towered above her. “You’re the one who asked for the list.”
“Aye, but you should have been truthful.” As she peered up at him, the ice in her eyes melted, and her lips twitched with afaint smile, as though she was fully aware of the ridiculousness of her statement.
He leaned down, placed both hands on the back of the settee on either side of her. “Finola Shanahan, you’re a corker.”
Her pale face with all its delicate freckles softened, and she breathed in a sharp breath.
He was helpless but to drop his sights to her lips. Sweet saints above.
When her lips parted in readiness for another kiss, he knew then that he’d made his point. He’d let her know he was the one in control of the situation, that no matter what mischief she might try, he was up for the challenge.
One question remained unanswered, though. Why was she trying to drive away her suitors? Including him? He had to get to the bottom of the issue. Because the truth was, he didn’t want to force a woman to marry him, even if the matchmaker, her family, and every blasted person in St. Louis approved of the match.
If she wasn’t willing, he wouldn’t do it. He’d pressured Helen into marrying him, and look how that had turned out.
“You know I like you and think you’re beautiful,” he whispered, holding himself above her and still boxing her in.
“You do?” Her reply was breathy, making her chest rise and fall much too enticingly.
“A blind fellow a mile away could see how attracted I am to you.”
This time her lips almost reached a full smile. Almost, but not quite, as if she’d forgotten how to smile. Maybe he’d have to make it his goal to teach her how to smile again ... if they stayed together.
Her gaze was riveted to his mouth, and the shimmering warmth in her eyes told him she was reliving their kiss.
Oh yes, he wanted to kiss her again ... but first he had to make sure she was done fighting against the union and that she truly wanted to marry him.
“Tell me one thing,” he whispered.
“What?” she whispered back.
“Do you plan to make this a regular habit?”
“Regular habit of what?”
“Finding out all the things I dislike so you can try to push me away?”
