Page 25 of Her Magnificent Mistake
“To make myself look more attractive, you dolt!”
It wasn’t until Hawk’s expression slowly shifted from confusion to anger that she realized what she’d said.
Ah. So much for subtlety, Marcia. So much for coy-mindless-debutante mimicry.
When he placed his palms on the table, she backed up.
“To make yerselfwhat?”
Cover your blunder! Marcia burst into high-pitched giggles. “Oh, Hawk, I am just teasing!”
“Nay, ye’re no’,” he growled, pushing himself to his feet, knocking a ledger off the table as he did so and completelyignoring the noise it made as it hit the ground. “Ye said ye were trying to make yerself look more attractive. Ye’re—ye’re manipulating me.” Scowling, he waved angrily, encompassing her whole body. “Ye’re sashaying and giggling and…and…”
You can only be yourself.
Well, hell, hadn’t she just been saying this?
Her shoulders slumped and her gaze dropped to the papers on the table. “Perhaps I have changed in the last ten years.”
As you have, murderer.
“No’ this much.” Hawk blew out a breath then dragged his fingers through his hair, disheveling it in a way that made her want to climb into his lap and set it right again. Or muss it more. “Ye pretend like ye dinnae have a real thought in yer head, at a time when I could use a friend. Ye wear yer hair down all the time?—”
Confused, Marcia touched one of her curls. “I thought—you said once that you liked my hair?” she whispered.
Liked it…loved it, spread out over his pillow as he worshiped her?—
“I do, but ye used to braid it and pin it and be done. Clearly ye’ve spent time making yerselfattractive,” Hawk bit out as he waved bad temperedly at her torso—or perhaps her bosom. “Wearing bright colors and a tight corset and that necklace that draws my eyes right where they shouldnae be.”
Without thinking, Marcia’s hand dropped to the glass pendant Lady Mistree had given her, but she was focused on Hawk’s words.
He’d noticed her figure? She was ten years older, and of course her body had changed since the last time they’d been together.
But he’d noticed, and he’dlikedwhat he’d seen?
Has that not been the goal, with all this flirtation?
Yes, certainly but… It was still flattering. Marcia felt her cheeks heating.
“Bull is responsible for the bright colors,” she finally admitted. “I am happy with my nondescript gowns, but he loathes brown. He insists I have somethingworth looking at.”
Hawk sighed again, his lips twitching. “Aye, that sounds like him.” He leaned on his knuckles on the table, his gaze intent on her. “But Marcia, why…?”
He didn’t finish the question, and she wasn’t sure she even understood. So she answered the question shewantedto answer.
Murder investigation be damned.
“Because I wanted to appeal to you.”
He blinked in surprise and straightened. “Ye think…this…falsenessis appealing to me?”
Without thinking, Marcia responded to the disbelief in his tone with a thrown challenge of her own. “Why not? Who Iamwas not appealing enough, so I might as well be someone I am not.”
She realized her mistake as soon as his eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. He slid from behind the table—knocking a folio to the ground this time—and reminded her a bit of a predator as he stalked toward her. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
Swallowing, Marcia backed up until her arse hit the gazebo railing. Entranced by the look in his dark eyes, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Even if she’d wanted to.
She didn’t want to.
