power? Suddenly captivated by the irresistible virility of the Laird of Ravensby, she clenched her hands against the impulse to brush her hand over those powerful shoulders.
He came upright with a graceful energy before her control weakened.
“Here,” he said, handing her the books, the papers stuffed hodgepodge between them.
“Thank you,” she replied on a small caught breath, feeling as though she’d only narrowly escaped disaster.
And they stood for a moment like uncertain adolescents, unable to converse when raw sensation overwhelmed them.
Johnnie spoke first because he was more accomplished at social banter. Years of pursuing women had polished his graces. “You’re interested in architecture,” he said, noting the books she’d dropped.
“I’m planning on building a house,” she quietly said.
“You intend to live alone?” He shouldn’t have said “alone” with that particular emphasis. He should have better masked his feelings.
“Yes,” she said. His insinuation had been plain, palpably sexual. “I
wish
to live alone,” she added, as if further definition would shield her from his potent sensuality.
It was suddenly too much, Johnnie abruptly decided, after days of avoiding her and thinking of her, days of denial and restraint. Never a man of indecision, he struggled as a clear choice offered itself. Elizabeth Graham stood inches away, breathtaking even in a plain dove-gray linen gown made for a slightly larger woman.She looked more fragile, more delicate, the green of her eyes intensely vivid in contrast to the pale gown. The word “unguarded” came powerfully to mind, sharp-cut as a whip on his back.
He could take her now on the clipped green lawn in full view of the house, or damn his pride and call retreat. He could pick her up and carry her, struggling or not, to his rooms and not let her out until Godfrey’s minions came with his brother. Or he could turn away.
He debated momentarily under the warm spring sun in a parterred garden shaped by the concept of restraint. And those few seconds seemed a lifetime to a man much motivated by instinct, a successful commander who understood that indecision often meant the difference between life and death.
It salved his conscience in the end that he was decamping for Robbie.
“I wish you luck then,” he softly said, “living alone.” An easy sensuality lay beneath the casualness of his words, as if he knew intrinsically women always wanted him.
He bowed then in a swift, graceful leave-taking.
And she felt for a moment when he’d gone as though she’d won. But the small insolence in his parting words lingered in her mind. He knew how women responded to him. And she was intelligent enough to realize that victory had been granted her.
They met each other once more, the following morning when Johnnie walked into Munro’s office and found Elizabeth there. He stopped on the threshold when she turned at the sound of the door opening, the sight of her breathtaking in the plain, unadorned room. Her light coloring, the lemon-yellow gown she wore, were the only source of brilliance in an atmosphere of unmitigated browns. The paneled walls, plank floor, the woodwork and doors, Munro’s desk and drawing table, all contrived to frame her fair beauty.
“Come in, Johnnie,” Munro welcomed him. “Addyour expertise to the topic. Lady Graham and I were analyzing the merits of garden architecture.”
“Why don’t I come back later?” A dazzling light seemed to emanate from the lady seated before Munro’s desk, as if she absorbed the rays of the sun shining through the bank of windows behind Munro. As if she absorbed their heat too. She always struck him gut-hard; he preferred lesser feelings toward women. “We can go over the matter of the archway between the main house and the new wing this afternoon.”
“Look now,” Munro urged, immune to his employer’s discomfort. “I’ve redrawn the plans. Why come back when you’re already
He came upright with a graceful energy before her control weakened.
“Here,” he said, handing her the books, the papers stuffed hodgepodge between them.
“Thank you,” she replied on a small caught breath, feeling as though she’d only narrowly escaped disaster.
And they stood for a moment like uncertain adolescents, unable to converse when raw sensation overwhelmed them.
Johnnie spoke first because he was more accomplished at social banter. Years of pursuing women had polished his graces. “You’re interested in architecture,” he said, noting the books she’d dropped.
“I’m planning on building a house,” she quietly said.
“You intend to live alone?” He shouldn’t have said “alone” with that particular emphasis. He should have better masked his feelings.
“Yes,” she said. His insinuation had been plain, palpably sexual. “I
wish
to live alone,” she added, as if further definition would shield her from his potent sensuality.
It was suddenly too much, Johnnie abruptly decided, after days of avoiding her and thinking of her, days of denial and restraint. Never a man of indecision, he struggled as a clear choice offered itself. Elizabeth Graham stood inches away, breathtaking even in a plain dove-gray linen gown made for a slightly larger woman.She looked more fragile, more delicate, the green of her eyes intensely vivid in contrast to the pale gown. The word “unguarded” came powerfully to mind, sharp-cut as a whip on his back.
He could take her now on the clipped green lawn in full view of the house, or damn his pride and call retreat. He could pick her up and carry her, struggling or not, to his rooms and not let her out until Godfrey’s minions came with his brother. Or he could turn away.
He debated momentarily under the warm spring sun in a parterred garden shaped by the concept of restraint. And those few seconds seemed a lifetime to a man much motivated by instinct, a successful commander who understood that indecision often meant the difference between life and death.
It salved his conscience in the end that he was decamping for Robbie.
“I wish you luck then,” he softly said, “living alone.” An easy sensuality lay beneath the casualness of his words, as if he knew intrinsically women always wanted him.
He bowed then in a swift, graceful leave-taking.
And she felt for a moment when he’d gone as though she’d won. But the small insolence in his parting words lingered in her mind. He knew how women responded to him. And she was intelligent enough to realize that victory had been granted her.
They met each other once more, the following morning when Johnnie walked into Munro’s office and found Elizabeth there. He stopped on the threshold when she turned at the sound of the door opening, the sight of her breathtaking in the plain, unadorned room. Her light coloring, the lemon-yellow gown she wore, were the only source of brilliance in an atmosphere of unmitigated browns. The paneled walls, plank floor, the woodwork and doors, Munro’s desk and drawing table, all contrived to frame her fair beauty.
“Come in, Johnnie,” Munro welcomed him. “Addyour expertise to the topic. Lady Graham and I were analyzing the merits of garden architecture.”
“Why don’t I come back later?” A dazzling light seemed to emanate from the lady seated before Munro’s desk, as if she absorbed the rays of the sun shining through the bank of windows behind Munro. As if she absorbed their heat too. She always struck him gut-hard; he preferred lesser feelings toward women. “We can go over the matter of the archway between the main house and the new wing this afternoon.”
“Look now,” Munro urged, immune to his employer’s discomfort. “I’ve redrawn the plans. Why come back when you’re already
Similar Books
