Page 120 of The Secrets of Lord Grayson Child
With that settled, Izzy introduced Gray to the new printer’s devil, Eddie, a lively looking lad presently working closely with Lipson and very much under the manager’s eye, yet Eddie’s grin at his good fortune never left his face.
“He’ll do,” Lipson gruffly mumbled.
Allowing Izzy to retreat to her paperwork and sums, Gray hung around the workshop until it was closing time.
After farewelling the staff—and being farewelled in turn, very much as if they counted him one of them—he waited while Izzy locked the door, then offered his arm, which she took, and in comfortable accord, they walked to Woburn Square.
Mrs. Carruthers was delighted to see Gray as well as Izzy. They spent ten minutes satisfying the old lady’s bright-eyed curiosity, then walked to the lane, climbed into the carriage, and rolled around to Norfolk Crescent.
As the carriage turned onto the crescent, with a smile in her eyes, Izzy looked at Gray. “Are you free to stay for dinner? Silas is in town and should be joining us, and Swan might as well.”
Gray grinned and, through the dimness, met her eyes. “Thank you—that would be delightful.”
The evening that followed was truly that—pleasant, relaxed, and filled with quiet laughter and cheer. Silas was in excellent form, and he and Gray spent a good half hour discussing business while Swan entertained the ladies.
In return, after dinner, Gray and Silas put themselves out to engage Izzy and Sybil, leaving Swan to Marietta and she to him.
While all were distracted in handing around the teacups, to Gray’s surprise, Marietta fetched up beside him.
She caught his eye and quietly said, “I don’t know what drove you and Izzy apart all those years ago, but it’s plain as a pikestaff you two should be together.”
When Gray merely arched his brows and waited, Marietta frowned and, with unaccustomed fierceness, said, “Make it happen, Child. I want to see Izzy happy—truly happy.”
Battling a smile, he inclined his head. “Rest assured I’ll do my humble best.”
Marietta humphed. “You’d better.” With that, she glided away, leaving him to sip his tea and reflect that everything in his life was settling into place.
One last but central and essential piece to go.
Supported by Silas, he continued to entertain Sybil and Izzy until it was time for him to take his leave. He did so with his usual charm and was entirely content when Izzy took his arm to steer him to the front door.
She didn’t resist when he diverted them to the empty parlor, whisked her inside, closed the door, framed her face, and kissed her. Ravenously.
Being Izzy, she responded in kind, and the exchange spiraled into a hungry give and take, fueled by complementary cravings.
This, between them, was so very real.
So potent and powerful and so utterly addictive.
Her lips and mouth were lush fruits he longingly savored, while her fingers tangled in his hair and gripped as she plundered his lips in reply.
His hands wandered, sliding, stroking, caressing, and claiming, and hers followed suit.
Desire rose, powerful and compelling. The ache of need that consumed them both was a passionate heartbeat that drove them.
They wanted, yearned for, and needed so much more, yet…
They were where they were, and no amount of desperation could change that.
Gradually, reluctance in every incremental movement, they eased back from the all-consuming vortex of sensations the kiss had become.
Bringing it to an end was hard.
He raised his head, rested his forehead against hers, and sighed—then dove back for one last, lingering, infinitely gentle kiss, one of unrestrained promise.
Her lashes rose as he drew away. She met his gaze, the emerald of her eyes rich and deep, then softly sighed.
They stepped back, rearranged their clothes, then he gave her his arm, and they resumed their interrupted stroll to the front door.
