Page 49 of Impossible
He grunted but held her close. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. The question is, are you?”
“I’ve suffered far worse.”
Her gaze, dark with alarm a second ago, softened. Then it fixed on the left side of his face. “I know.” Her whisper was a preliminary caress just before she stroked her fingertips along the ripples of his scar. “This had to have hurt terribly.”
“That entire day was the most painful of my life.” He stared up into her captivating face.
And got a raindrop in his eye. “Here comes the rain.” He rolled with her to their sides, then jumped to his feet, helping her as he stood. “You go to the folly. I’ll get the basket and blanket.”
“What about the horse?”
“She’ll be fine.” It began to rain in earnest, not a downpour, but gentle drops, and Max ran to fetch the picnic. By the time he joined her in the folly, he was damp.
“At least it’s not raining hard,” she said.
“No, and I doubt it will last long. We should eat and be on our way before it decides to pour.” He spread the blanket over the stones, and she set the basket on top of it.
As she arranged plates of food, he removed his hat and shook the water from it at the side of the folly. His face tingled where she’d touched him. How did he not horrify her?
Because she was a singular woman.
He sat down with her on the blanket and ate from his plate. There was ham, cheese, bread, and apples. She poured ale into a mug and handed it to him, her fingers grazing his. He could almost imagine this was four years ago when he’d first met Lucia.
No, he didn’t want to compare them. For as much as they both stirred something within him, they were completely different.
Distant thunder shook the sky, and Ada startled. She looked out at the heavens. “I always believed thunder was the sound of giants dancing. That’s what I used to tell my charges when there was a storm and they were afraid.”
Of course she did. “And did they believe you?”
“Certainly. I also told them the rain was from the giants’ exertion.”
Max nearly spit out the ale he’d just drank. “That’s a great deal of energetic dancing.”
“I believe that’s what Rebecca said. She was the eldest.” Ada’s eyes sparkled with mirth as she popped a piece of ham into her mouth. Then her gaze dropped to his plate. “You ate nearly everything.”
So he had. He shifted uncomfortably, but he didn’t know if that was because he’d eaten more than usual or because she’d noticed. “It wasn’t a large plate.”
“I think it’s wonderful.” She finished eating and began packing everything into the basket. He helped, and they both grabbed the bottle of ale at the same time, their hands colliding.
The electricity was still there, perhaps emboldened by the currents in the air. Whatever the reason, neither of them pulled away.
“I know I kissed you the other night,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.
Her eyes rounded. “I thought you were asleep.”
“If I could sleep through that, I would have even more problems than I thought.”
Her brow creased. “Please don’t be witty too.”
He held her hand, taking it from the bottle. “I doubt anyone would accuse me of that.”
“Really, you have to stop.” She took a shaky breath, and he could feel the tremors racing through her. “I’m already far too tempted, and, well, I don’t want to encourage anything.”
She was tempted…
His primitive man brain somehow managed to parse the second half of what she’d said. But he was unable to formulate a coherent response, and he’d already grunted enough in her presence.
