Chapter Twelve
“Why in hell didn’t you say something?” he demanded angrily.
There was a pause. Then, “Say what exactly?”
Her voice was tense and curt. Beynon glanced up and was surprised to see a flash of temper lighting her fairy-colored eyes.
“Really, Mr. Thomas, was there anything I could have said over the last hour that might have convinced you to take a moment of heed? Anything that might have overridden your fixed insistence on doing exactly what you wished? You made it sharply clear from the start of this wretched task that you were of no mind to consider anything I said.”
Beynon glowered at her accusations. They weren’t entirely untrue. But he wasn’t accustomed to having his arguably obstinate behavior being catalogued so bluntly. “If you’d said you were in pain—”
“You’d have what?” she interrupted with eyebrows arched in disbelief. “Grumbled about how pampered English ladies cannot endure a simple walk?”
Dammit. She wasn’t exactly wrong there, either. “So, you decided your pride was worth more than your blood?” he asked harshly.
Her eyes flashed. “Sometimes, pride is all a woman has.”
The tone of her voice and the set of her chin suddenly reminded him of his mother, a woman whose warmth and grace were upheld by a will of steel.
They stared at each other for a fierce moment. Then the lady took a steadying breath. When she spoke again, her voice was calm and almost annoyingly reasonable. “I understand if you don’t particularly like me, Mr. Thomas. It’s fine. We don’t have to be friends. It’s certainly not a requirement for a proper partnership.” She paused and the corner of her mouth tugged ruefully upward before she added, “But I don’t think it could hurt much to cultivate a bit more cooperation.”
Though Beynon felt slightly shamed by her effective little lecture, he wasn’t about to admit it. Instead, he kept his expression harshly unmoved while her direct and hopeful gaze roamed tentatively over his features. But as the moment of silence lengthened, the confidence and fire in her manner slowly ebbed away. The space between her brows furrowed and a heavy sigh lifted her shoulders.
Beynon almost said something then, but his jaw remained fiercely clenched as he finally glanced away.
Realizing he still held her feet in his hands, he gently lowered them to the ground. But when he leaned forward to brace his hand on the bench in preparation to rise, her swift inhale brought his attention back to her face.
Her lashes fluttered as though she wished to lower her gaze but fought against it and he was instantly captured by the curious sparks of light shining from the depths of azure and green. He couldn’t look away. Couldn’t rise. Couldn’t even force a distance between them that had suddenly become very necessary.
And when her attention fell to his mouth and her lips parted on a sharp inhale, something pulled tight deep inside him.
Goddammit. He was going to kiss her.
It was a fact.
Even as he acknowledged it was a horrible idea, he lifted a hand to the side of her throat. As his fingertips pressed into the little hollow at the base of her skull and his thumb brushed the edge of her jaw, he leaned toward her.
He had a swift impression of the shock in her eyes before her lashes swept over them and he pressed his mouth to hers.
Her lips were softer, sweeter than he’d imagined—not that he’d imagined the feel of them at all until a moment ago. But as he brushed his mouth across hers, he felt as though he’d been waiting for this kiss a very long time and he wondered why on earth he’d been denying himself such a pleasure.
As her initial surprise fled and the arch of her neck relaxed in his hand, he flicked his tongue against the gentle parting of her lips. Her gasp sent a shiver down his spine and tied his belly into a tight knot. But when she reached forward to curve her hand over the surface of his thigh and her tongue slid from between her teeth to glide gently along his, a shot of pure lust angled to his groin. It was so sharp and intense and immediate that he tensed as a groan filled his chest.
Unfortunately, she felt his shock and a small sound got trapped in her throat. Her fingers tightened on his thigh then released him as she gently pulled back.
Fuck. He’d ruined it. If he’d been able to rein in his reaction, he might still be kissing her, exploring her sweetness. Instead, he watched as her eyes opened and her swift, panicked breath bathed his lips.
“Why did you do that?” she asked, her voice slightly shaky.
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He didn’t know why.
Or maybe he knew exactly why but couldn’t form it into proper words just then.
So instead, he rose abruptly to his feet. After swiping up her shoes in one hand, he leaned forward and swept her up into his arms as well.
“No. Wait! What are you doing?”