shoulders imperiously. “In case you didn’t notice, I won. ”
It was all he could do not to tug her into his arms right then. “Yes, and as such, you may collect your spoils, same as I always have.” He turned his cheek, screwing up his face just as she invariably did whenever he claimed his prize, pretending he didn’t want her to kiss him.
Hoping like hell she would.
Her laughter was full of delight, heady in its sweetness. “Do you know, Mr. Norton, for the first time in you life, I think you may have earned a kiss.”
***
Eleanor stepped toward him, feeling strong and in control in a way she hadn’t in days. Years perhaps. Nothing was solved, but hope had been renewed. Faith in herself had been restored. She could at least try for another solution. Nick had given her that much, and for that she adored him.
For the next few moments, at least—then they could return to being adversaries.
With his damp shirt plastered to his body, he looked every bit the gladiator, standing tall and proud on the heels of victory. Ironic, considering he had lost, but still somehow fitting. She hadn’t been exaggerating—he had truly earned a reward.
As she leaned forward, his chest rose with a sharp intake of air. She flicked her gaze from his cheek to his expression, and froze, only inches away. His green eyes were burning, his lips slightly parted. Awareness washed over her, cascading through her veins and landing deep in her belly. All at once the moment took on a whole new meaning.
She wasn’t just sharing an innocent moment with her step-cousin. She was standing almost chest-to-chest with a tall, powerful, handsome-as-sin man.
Alone .
Her heart slammed against her ribs, pounding harder than it had during their entire match. His smell was familiar, his eyes exactly as they had always been, but somehow everything seemed different.
Slowly, deliberately he turned his head until they faced each other directly, the very air they breathed mingling in the narrow space between them. The morning light caressed them as they stood completely still, unable to look away. She knew it should feel wrong—this was Nicolas!—but nothing had ever felt more natural.
Her eyes dropped to his lips. For once they were without any hint of that rakish smile with which he so loved to torture her. He’d always seemed so young, but all she could see right then was the man he had become.
A man her very heart seemed to be beating for.
And yet, still neither of them moved. A sixth sense told her that as soon as they did, nothing would ever be the same. He would never again be little Nick, thorn in her side. Uncertainty warred with unfamiliar passion, and she dragged her gaze up to meet his, helpless as to what to do.
For a moment, she thought he would act, pressing his lips to hers and releasing the desire that both tantalized and terrified her. She held her breath, afraid to so much as blink. How was it possible she could want something so badly, and at the same time want to escape, to run from the emotions she wasn’t prepared for?
Finally, he closed his eyes and exhaled, surely every drop of air from his lungs. When he opened them again, it was as if a curtain had been drawn shut. “Fine, fine—I’ll give you a reprieve. I know deep down you’re just afraid you’ll never measure up to my outstanding kisses.” His voice was hoarse, but the smile was firmly in place. “Now off with you, before someone discovers us and ruins all our fun.”
He was right. Already, the sun was well above the horizon, the sky transitioning from reds to pinks. Nodding, she bent to retrieve her foil, trying to convince herself that it was relief, not regret, that wilted her shoulders. Whatever madness had seized her, it was gone now.
Or so she told herself.
Turning on her heel, she hurried toward the dirt path that led to the house, wanting to put distance between them, to cut the odd
It was all he could do not to tug her into his arms right then. “Yes, and as such, you may collect your spoils, same as I always have.” He turned his cheek, screwing up his face just as she invariably did whenever he claimed his prize, pretending he didn’t want her to kiss him.
Hoping like hell she would.
Her laughter was full of delight, heady in its sweetness. “Do you know, Mr. Norton, for the first time in you life, I think you may have earned a kiss.”
***
Eleanor stepped toward him, feeling strong and in control in a way she hadn’t in days. Years perhaps. Nothing was solved, but hope had been renewed. Faith in herself had been restored. She could at least try for another solution. Nick had given her that much, and for that she adored him.
For the next few moments, at least—then they could return to being adversaries.
With his damp shirt plastered to his body, he looked every bit the gladiator, standing tall and proud on the heels of victory. Ironic, considering he had lost, but still somehow fitting. She hadn’t been exaggerating—he had truly earned a reward.
As she leaned forward, his chest rose with a sharp intake of air. She flicked her gaze from his cheek to his expression, and froze, only inches away. His green eyes were burning, his lips slightly parted. Awareness washed over her, cascading through her veins and landing deep in her belly. All at once the moment took on a whole new meaning.
She wasn’t just sharing an innocent moment with her step-cousin. She was standing almost chest-to-chest with a tall, powerful, handsome-as-sin man.
Alone .
Her heart slammed against her ribs, pounding harder than it had during their entire match. His smell was familiar, his eyes exactly as they had always been, but somehow everything seemed different.
Slowly, deliberately he turned his head until they faced each other directly, the very air they breathed mingling in the narrow space between them. The morning light caressed them as they stood completely still, unable to look away. She knew it should feel wrong—this was Nicolas!—but nothing had ever felt more natural.
Her eyes dropped to his lips. For once they were without any hint of that rakish smile with which he so loved to torture her. He’d always seemed so young, but all she could see right then was the man he had become.
A man her very heart seemed to be beating for.
And yet, still neither of them moved. A sixth sense told her that as soon as they did, nothing would ever be the same. He would never again be little Nick, thorn in her side. Uncertainty warred with unfamiliar passion, and she dragged her gaze up to meet his, helpless as to what to do.
For a moment, she thought he would act, pressing his lips to hers and releasing the desire that both tantalized and terrified her. She held her breath, afraid to so much as blink. How was it possible she could want something so badly, and at the same time want to escape, to run from the emotions she wasn’t prepared for?
Finally, he closed his eyes and exhaled, surely every drop of air from his lungs. When he opened them again, it was as if a curtain had been drawn shut. “Fine, fine—I’ll give you a reprieve. I know deep down you’re just afraid you’ll never measure up to my outstanding kisses.” His voice was hoarse, but the smile was firmly in place. “Now off with you, before someone discovers us and ruins all our fun.”
He was right. Already, the sun was well above the horizon, the sky transitioning from reds to pinks. Nodding, she bent to retrieve her foil, trying to convince herself that it was relief, not regret, that wilted her shoulders. Whatever madness had seized her, it was gone now.
Or so she told herself.
Turning on her heel, she hurried toward the dirt path that led to the house, wanting to put distance between them, to cut the odd
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