Page 46 of The Marquess' Disguised Heiress
Eliza still could not look away from his hair; its dampness was only all the more inviting. Whenever George had come to see her in the past, his hair had been perfectly tied behind his head, but this was the first time it had been let loose in this manner, making Eliza feel things.
Her gaze strayed to it more often than it stayed on his face, and she was sure he had already noticed the object of her interest.
“If I am not wrong, you have been staring at my hair.” He laughed, touching them self-consciously.
“This is the first time I have seen it like that. I simply could not help it.” She shrugged, replying honestly.
“Do you wish to touch it?”
Eliza was taken aback at the offer but nodded quickly, unable to resist. That was exactly what she wished to do.
He laughed, making Eliza blush. He simply leaned in closer, making sure his head was within reach of her hands.
Eliza almost felt embarrassed that he had read her expression this easily but wordlessly ran a hand through his wet curls, twirling one of them between her fingers. It was as soft as she had imagined it to be.
“I must say I love your curls,” she said with a smile, “I have always liked curly hair, especially because mine is just wavy.”
“But I absolutely love your hair.”
His confession had been so quick and so hearty that Eliza knew he was not lying. His russet gaze was as warm as ever as he stared at her, pushing away a lone strand of hair from her face. Eliza smiled at the touch.
“You do?” she asked.
“Of course,” he nodded, “You have such beautifully golden hair that shines when the sunlight catches onto them. You must believe me when I say this, but when that happens, I cannot stop looking at your hair. And it is so impossibly long, even when you wear it in braids that it makes me wonder how much longer it could get. It also appears rather soft and makes me want to touch it to see what it feels like between my fingers.”
Eliza was so stunned by his description that she quietly took off the cap that was covering her hair and allowed it to fall down her back.
The soft breeze teased her long tresses, which blew about, making Eliza feel special in front of George’s eyes.
“Just returning the favour, I believe.” She laughed, bringing them to the front so George could touch them.
His gaze fully drawn to her hair, Eliza breathed in sharply as he touched her tresses, running them between her fingers just as he had claimed he wished to do in the past.
She stayed still, his -touch sending tingles down her spine. He truly had a life-altering effect on her, and she failed to understand what it meant.
At that moment, as Eliza witnessed his expression, she could not help wondering if he felt the same way about her as she did about him, the thought filling her with warmth and happiness.
The two of them laughed at the exchange, and Eliza was happy to feel such comfort in George’s presence. She was just about to tell him about the masked stranger and thank him for the meeting when a twig twitched nearby, forcing both of them to stop laughing and look about.
“What was that?” George asked while Eliza quickly put her hair back inside the cap, neatly securing it.
“A branch must have broken somewhere.”
“You are right,” George sighed, still staring suspiciously around the woods.
“I must return to the house; it is quite late already,” she said smiling, “but thank you for finding the masked stranger and bringing him here to meet me. I do not know how to pay you back for this favour.”
“You must simply promise to continue being my friend, and I will consider the favour returned.”
“I will do just that.”
Eliza smiled at him and turned around to make her way back to the house. In just a span of one afternoon, she had comeacross and talked to the masked stranger and shared an intimate moment with George.
Both the men made her feel in ways she had never felt before, and Eliza had no clue how to decipher these emotions.
Although right now, she probably had a thousand chores already waiting for her and needed to focus on them.
***
