learn more about the Abbey for the website I want to create.
That is, as soon as we have electricity, which if Valerie has her way, will be
by the end of next month.”
His hands moved into her hair, making short work of removing
her clip as he rubbed her scalp. She forgot the myriad noises surrounding her
while his fingers massaged her head.
“I can tell you the history of the Abbey. I’ve been studying
it for years.”
She opened her eyes to find him gazing down her tank top. He
had to stop that. She sat forward again, away from his hands and closed the
book.
He walked around the desk and sat his hip on it. “What is
it, Rena?”
She looked into his eyes and found him honestly puzzled. Was
her own sexual frustration now ruling her life? She forced a smile and
shrugged. “It’s just the loud noises. They put me on edge.”
He stroked her jawbone with his finger. “On edge of what?”
“It’s an expression. Oh, maybe it’s not common in Canada.
What I mean is, it’s stressful.”
His brows furrowed and he lightly grasped her chin. “Do you
mean the sounds bother your nerves?”
She nodded, watching his lips as his head lowered.
“I can have them stop, if you like.”
“No.” She raised her voice to be heard above the din. “I
need them to continue.”
He sighed, his breath passing over her lips. “Then perhaps I
can distract you.”
She closed her eyes and his lips touched hers with a
featherlight kiss. When he didn’t continue, she opened her eyes to find him
standing next to her chair, his hand held out to her. “Come. Let us go above,
away from this cacophony and I will tell you more about the Abbey.”
It took her a moment to realize he planned to distract her
with information, not sex. She was low class. All the more reason to
focus on the Abbey. “Great.”
He grasped her hand and led the way through the Purple and
Blue Rooms before taking the stairs two at a time.
“Whoa, slow down. My legs are a lot shorter than yours.”
He stopped midway up the first flight. “I apologize.”
“That’s okay. If we walk ahh—”
He scooped her into his arms and continued up the stairs.
How Rhett Butler of him. Looping her hands around his neck, Rena held on as he
strode through the second floor and without hesitation ascended the stairs to
the next level. Once at the end of the hall, he stood her on her own feet.
She didn’t want to be on her feet. She wanted to be in his
arms, or rather in his bed. Holy crud, what was it about this abbey that had
her every other thought focused on sex with the man next to her? He didn’t
hesitate, but took her hand in his and at a slower pace climbed the spiral
staircase to the roof.
Once outside, he broke their connection and strode to the
wall-walk.
Her hand missed the warmth of his, but the sun shone and the
temperature was perfect, so she couldn’t complain. But she wanted to. She
wanted to be touching him. Fortunately for both of them, his thoughts were
elsewhere.
“Come. I want to show you a piece of history.”
She followed him around the battlements, the uneven surface
of the stones making it tricky even in her sneakers, but he glided over them as
if he’d done so a thousand times before.
He stopped at the rear corner, closest to the little chapel
below, and pointed at the parapet. “Here.”
She stepped around him to examine the wall and crouched at
its base. Chipped into the stone, no doubt with significant effort, was the
name MacAllistair and the number 1856. The indentations had become shallow
after years of weather, but the name was clear. She glanced at him, surprised
by the excitement in his eyes. Returning her gaze to the engraved word, it took
her a minute. “Your ancestor built this abbey?”
He always stood straight, but he appeared taller as he
lowered his head once, pride radiating from him. “Actually, a MacAllistair
designed it.”
She stood. “So, that’s why you know so much about the Abbey.
I bet the information
That is, as soon as we have electricity, which if Valerie has her way, will be
by the end of next month.”
His hands moved into her hair, making short work of removing
her clip as he rubbed her scalp. She forgot the myriad noises surrounding her
while his fingers massaged her head.
“I can tell you the history of the Abbey. I’ve been studying
it for years.”
She opened her eyes to find him gazing down her tank top. He
had to stop that. She sat forward again, away from his hands and closed the
book.
He walked around the desk and sat his hip on it. “What is
it, Rena?”
She looked into his eyes and found him honestly puzzled. Was
her own sexual frustration now ruling her life? She forced a smile and
shrugged. “It’s just the loud noises. They put me on edge.”
He stroked her jawbone with his finger. “On edge of what?”
“It’s an expression. Oh, maybe it’s not common in Canada.
What I mean is, it’s stressful.”
His brows furrowed and he lightly grasped her chin. “Do you
mean the sounds bother your nerves?”
She nodded, watching his lips as his head lowered.
“I can have them stop, if you like.”
“No.” She raised her voice to be heard above the din. “I
need them to continue.”
He sighed, his breath passing over her lips. “Then perhaps I
can distract you.”
She closed her eyes and his lips touched hers with a
featherlight kiss. When he didn’t continue, she opened her eyes to find him
standing next to her chair, his hand held out to her. “Come. Let us go above,
away from this cacophony and I will tell you more about the Abbey.”
It took her a moment to realize he planned to distract her
with information, not sex. She was low class. All the more reason to
focus on the Abbey. “Great.”
He grasped her hand and led the way through the Purple and
Blue Rooms before taking the stairs two at a time.
“Whoa, slow down. My legs are a lot shorter than yours.”
He stopped midway up the first flight. “I apologize.”
“That’s okay. If we walk ahh—”
He scooped her into his arms and continued up the stairs.
How Rhett Butler of him. Looping her hands around his neck, Rena held on as he
strode through the second floor and without hesitation ascended the stairs to
the next level. Once at the end of the hall, he stood her on her own feet.
She didn’t want to be on her feet. She wanted to be in his
arms, or rather in his bed. Holy crud, what was it about this abbey that had
her every other thought focused on sex with the man next to her? He didn’t
hesitate, but took her hand in his and at a slower pace climbed the spiral
staircase to the roof.
Once outside, he broke their connection and strode to the
wall-walk.
Her hand missed the warmth of his, but the sun shone and the
temperature was perfect, so she couldn’t complain. But she wanted to. She
wanted to be touching him. Fortunately for both of them, his thoughts were
elsewhere.
“Come. I want to show you a piece of history.”
She followed him around the battlements, the uneven surface
of the stones making it tricky even in her sneakers, but he glided over them as
if he’d done so a thousand times before.
He stopped at the rear corner, closest to the little chapel
below, and pointed at the parapet. “Here.”
She stepped around him to examine the wall and crouched at
its base. Chipped into the stone, no doubt with significant effort, was the
name MacAllistair and the number 1856. The indentations had become shallow
after years of weather, but the name was clear. She glanced at him, surprised
by the excitement in his eyes. Returning her gaze to the engraved word, it took
her a minute. “Your ancestor built this abbey?”
He always stood straight, but he appeared taller as he
lowered his head once, pride radiating from him. “Actually, a MacAllistair
designed it.”
She stood. “So, that’s why you know so much about the Abbey.
I bet the information
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