Chapter 3 #2
She grinned at him over the stone sphere, and he liked that her shyness seemed to evaporate in the presence of ancient artifacts. “Thank you.”
Clearing his throat, he forced himself back to the topic at hand. “Ye ken I’m a collector? I’ve made an offer to Lady Dumpkins for this piece, and she’s accepted…but two of them…”
Olive was shaking her head as she examined the minute hammer marks from an ancient artisan. “I cannot believe I am seeing one of these in gold,” she murmured. “Something like this— Gold is such a soft metal!” She hummed. “Mainly for show, I would think. But if you found it here…”
“I did no’ find it.” Gently, he cupped his palms beneath hers, taking the weight of the artifact, and reveling in the feel of her hand against his.
“This was excavated in the original dig the late earl financed. The notes from that dig give nae indication the archeologists realized there should have been a second sphaera.”
He saw the exact moment she understood what he meant. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with wonder behind those adorable spectacles.
Nodding at her unspoken thought, Phin re-wrapped the velvet around the golden sphaera, then took it gently from her.
“The second one was no’ found,” he murmured, not bothering to hide the way his heartbeat sped up at the announcement.
“Oh my,” Olive whispered as she sank onto the settee. “Lady Dumpkins seems to purposefully eschew her late husband’s interest. Which is a shame, because she has a dig site on her property! If I owned Dumpkins Estate, I would be out there each morning, poking about.”
Chuckling in agreement, Phineas crossed his arms and rested one hip against the cabinet. “I suspect most people in the world aren’t as interested in Roman architecture as ye and I are, Olive.”
In the light from the lamps, he watched her cheeks pinken at the intimation they were similar, but instead of denying it, her gaze swept from his chin to his chest, then down his torso to rest upon his knees. His bare knees.
It was safe to grin in satisfaction, so he made a show of nonchalantly crossing one ankle over the other.
Lysander might tease the fashion as being outrageously old-fashioned, but Phin liked history, and knew that some females enjoyed the sight of a bare knee.
He was happy to report the charm worked on Olive as well.
In fact, it was working a little too well. There they were, alone in a quiet room, her looking positively delectable in that blue silk. Phin’s blood was pumping, and the way she was eyeing him appreciatively, well…
It occurred to him all of his blood was pumping in a decidedly downward fashion, and it seemed as if Olive had come to that realization as well, judging from the way her eyes widened at the sight of the stirring behind his sporran.
And then she sucked on her lower lip, and Phin squeezed his eyes shut and thrust himself upright, trying to think of anything he could to get his body under control.
Amo, amas, amat.
Amamus, amatis, amant.
It seemed she was in a similar state, because Olive suddenly surged to her feet and turned around, giving him her back. Her shoulders were heaving, as if she was breathing deeply, but her tone was overly cheerful when she asked loudly, “So now you have your golden sphaera.”
“Aye, and I’m quite pleased, but as ye said, they come in pairs.”
He nearly groaned out loud when he remembered the possibility for crude jokes, and her breath hitched once before she exhaled.
Slowly, she turned, a rueful twitch of her lips telling him she didn’t begrudge him the jest. “Well, since they come in pairs, the other should have been here at this dig site as well.”
He shrugged, glad they were speaking professionally instead of focusing on balls, and his unruly cock, and by Zeus, that thing she did with her lower lip.
“If it had been here, I assume the archaeologists would’ve found it.” He’d reminded himself of that many times this summer, as well as the likelihood of medieval thieves. “I’ve had the chance to study the dig site—”
“You mean, more than just the various outings Lady Dumpkins has arranged?” She took a hesitant step toward him.
He hesitated. “Aye. She gave me permission to begin a small dig, but I’ve done little more than survey the spot. I havenae found anything to indicate the early excavations missed the other sphaera.”
She was chewing on her lip again, and he realized she did it when she was uncomfortable or deep in thought.
In fact, she’d crossed her arms in front of her chest—which did all sorts of exciting things to the bodice of her gown, although Phin tried his gentlemanly best not to notice—and began to pace.
“Perhaps the dig was not as exhaustive as they thought. Do you have any maps of the site?”
When she passed near him, Phin stepped in front of her, and she stopped so suddenly, blue silk swung against his legs.
“Why do ye want maps?”
She frowned at him in confusion. “To see the extent of the dig, and the extent of the site. Something might have been missed.”
There was a feeling Phin had experienced more than once in his career.
It was a sort of quickening of his heartbeat, a shortness of breath.
Something akin to excitement twisted in his belly, and he’d known he was on the right path.
It was the moment the scent of the chase really began to fill his senses, where every part of him was attuned to what was to come.
It was the sign of the first hint, the knowing he was on a path which would lead him to holding a new, priceless artifact…
or perhaps place him in terrible danger to life and limb, sometimes both, but it was an intoxicating feeling, almost as good as the final moment when he held the artifact in his hands and knew he’d won.
There was a reason he kept tempting fate and risking death: for a taste of that heady feeling.
He felt it now.
“Ye want to help me?”
She blinked. “Well, of course. You have already said you think I know a bit about Roman architecture, and it should be simple enough to search through the reports, if not the dig itself, to see if I can find a clue to the missing sphaera—”
He likely shouldn’t have done it, but in that moment, Phin doubted he could have stopped himself. His hands were on her shoulders, then her arms, then her back…he was drawing her to him…
Her lower lip tasted as perfect as he’d imagined.
By Zeus, she was smart and feisty, and arousing as hell, and he didn’t think he ever wanted to let her go.
When his lips first claimed hers, she’d stiffened. It was the fact she hadn’t relaxed which finally pierced Phin’s bubble of arousal and beat him over the head with reality.
With a gasp, he jerked his lips away from hers.
“I’m sorry!” He was a monster. “I’m sorry, Olive. I shouldnae have—” He shook his head, despite his arms still being around her. “I should’ve asked yer permission.”
Her eyes were wide behind her spectacles, giving her a sort of owlish impression as she blinked slowly up at him. Her shoulders and chest were heaving as she breathed—Eyes up top, laddie—but her expression was curiously blank.
“Olive?” he prompted again. “By Zeus, lass, I’m sorry. I shouldnae have thrust myself on ye—”
When she slowly reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders, he trailed off.
“Phineas?” she murmured.
His voice was hoarse with regret and control when he choked, “Aye, lass?”
“Shut up and kiss me again, please.”
He hesitated at her command, but she didn’t. Her hands clasped his cheeks, and then she was pulling his lips down to meet hers, and by Neptune’s Trident, this kiss was—was…
This kiss was everything.
She was clearly untutored, but her enthusiasm more than made up for it.
When he teased the seam of her lips, and they parted enough to let him in, her tongue tentatively touched his, and Phin groaned.
Her fingers dug into his faint stubble, as if trying to anchor him in place, although he had no intentions of leaving her.
Ever.
The thought gave him pause. Surely he wasn’t thinking about a forever with a woman he’d only danced with once?
Well, why no’? Yer tongue is in her mouth right now, or have ye no’ noticed?
Oh, he noticed, alright.
She was on her toes, pushing against him, making the most arousing little mewing noises, her tongue mimicking his actions closely enough to make him groan aloud again.
Patience, laddie.
With a gasp, he broke the contact, but wasn’t strong enough to lose her altogether, so he pressed his forehead against hers. She was breathing as heavily as he was, great heaving gasps, which mingled their breaths between them.
He knew she could feel his cock, swollen under his kilt and pressing against her belly, but she didn’t shy away. For that matter, she hadn’t shied away from meeting him here, and she certainly hadn’t shied away from his kisses.
“If you apologize for that, Phineas Oliphant, I will kick you in the shin.”
It was such an unexpected threat, it caused Phin to burst into laughter. Her smile bloomed in response, and he tugged her against him, tucking her head under his chin.
“By Zeus, lass, ye are a treasure.”
“Because I kissed you?”
“Because ye kissed me, and ye offered to help me, and ye have enough knowledge in yer beautiful head that I ken ye can help me, and because I like—”
She pinched him. “You are giving me a big head.”
Still grinning, he dropped a kiss to the top of her perfectly sized head. “More space to store knowledge. Ye’re really willing to help me?”
“Yes, but…” She shifted, and he could imagine her chewing on that delectable bottom lip. “I do not know how much help I will be.”
“Ye’ll be all the help I need.” Thinking about that lip, and how perfect she felt in his arms, wasn’t helping his resolve. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to ruin Olive L’arbre right here in their hostess’s study.
So he set her away from him, brushing a brief kiss across her lips, and pretended not to see the disappointment which flashed across her expression when she realized it wasn’t going to last any longer.
“Phineas—”
“Meet me in the library after breakfast tomorrow, aye? Most of this lot will still be asleep, and we can go over the maps in peace.”
“You—you really want my help?”
Pluto’s scepter, she really didn’t realize how incredible she was, did she?
“Ye submitted an article on Roman rooflines to the Journal of the Society of Archaeology,” he reminded her drily. “Ye’re brilliant. Aye, I need yer help.”
When he planted his hands on her shoulders and turned her gently toward the door, she appeared in a sort of daze. From his compliment? Or from the kisses?
He hoped both.
A little nudge from him was all it took to send her to the door, but she turned once she reached it and glanced back at him.
“Tomorrow, Olive,” he reminded her. “And bring a copy of yer paper so I can read it, aye?”
Mutely, she nodded, then took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and exited.
It felt as if some of the light left with her.
Exhaling, Phin stalked toward his host’s drinks cabinet, knowing he wasn’t going back to the party again this evening. As he sank down on the settee with a glass of brandy in hand, he admitted the truth.
He didn’t just need Olive L’arbre for her architectural expertise, he needed her in his life.
Possibly forever.