Page 33 of Lover
Thinking I was calling her back, she waved over her shoulder and slipped out the door. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
I collapsed back into bed, sighing, then kicked off the sheets and prepared myself for the day. All the while, I mused over the addition I could soon add to my acting résumé—the role of a man pretending he wasn’t making mad love to his long-lost wife when no one was looking.
***
Millie was adamant that I not give anyone reason to think there were any illicit goings-on between us, but she broke her own rules several times, taking my hand in hers, tucking herself into my arms while she read over notes. In return I stole kisses, leaned close when we spoke, brushed curling strands of hair from her cheek. Our nights were mostly sleepless, though when we could no longer keep pace without rest, we remained wrapped in each other the whole night through, and I basked in the warmth that had returned to my life.
At the rate things were moving, I could hope it was only a matter of time before everything became right again. Millie was home, settling into Willowfield as easily as though she’d never left, and the house welcomed her back, pulling her in. She spent time in the gardens, wandering the halls, asking me about the extensive renovations that I’d halted, wondering if I ever planned to begin them again.
The idea was a perfect one. So I set the gears in motion, lined up the workmen, the gardeners, the electricians, the craftsmen, all glad to be receiving contracts once more from a house that had kept them well in business for so many years.
I requested Millie’s help with small matters, asking her input on various subjects she’d once found interesting, and she met the challenges with exuberance. When I saw her enthusiasm, I included her in everything suitable, spoke to her about the business, the hot houses, the factories just as I always had.
One morning, after briefing the groundsmen on the plan for revitalizing the orchards, I stopped by the little office I’d encouraged Millie to use. I felt a bit sorry, as it was a room she’d never much fancied. She would have preferred to work in the library, but I’d discovered we were far from productive when we were alone together. We were new lovers, and kind smiles and sweet nothings turned molten, even when not intended, and we were always at risk of passions flaring.
Even now I watched her work, and we chatted amiably about very little. There was nothing particularly special about the moment, and still I yearned for her.
She glanced up, caught me looking, and smiled, her complexion pinking.
“Stop that,” she said. “You’re distracting me.”
“What in the world am I doing?” I asked, knowing damn well.
“Don’t you have work to tend to?”
“I do, but there are a few things I’d rather see to first. Very important.”
Laughing, she laid down her pen. “What very important things?”
I allowed the silence to linger between us and watched as she discovered the answer in my eyes.
“Callum, it’s eleven in the morning,” she protested, already flustered.
“Come here, darling,” I said.
And she did.
CHAPTER 19
NIGHT FOUND ME settled by the fire in my room, contented as a man had any right to be. Although things weren’t perfect, life was stirring from its bed of misery.
Anxiously, I waited for her to arrive, eager to make plans and discuss our future. Of course, I’d be a bold liar if I didn’t admit that I was interested in other activities as well. I grinned into the flames like a smitten young man.
She was later than usual, and I wondered what she could have gotten up to. Even though we spent almost every waking moment near each other, working, talking on endless topics, shamelessly flirting, and often tangled in each other’s arms, she still insisted on pretending that we weren’t regularly sleeping together.
I ran my thumb over my bottom lip, thoughts lingering on this last fact.
I was startled by a loud noise and muffled voices, causing me to turn in my chair and look up at the ceiling as though I might be able to see through it.
A crash.
I sprang into motion, barreling into the hall and toward the alarming sounds. A frozen shard of horror pierced me through when I determined where they were coming from. The tower. As I neared the stairs, I spied both Ms. Dillard and Felicity running toward me from the opposite direction.
“What’s going on!” Ms. Dillard cried.
“The tower! Millie’s in the tower!” I shouted down the hall, motioning for Ms. Dillard to go before me as she was closer.
With a gasp of alarm, the woman hurried up the steps, leaving Felicity frozen in fear at the stairwell entrance.
