Chapter 19 #2
She was warming up to him, and that left his chest full to bursting. He didn’t care that the emotion was a sign of weakness. Didn’t care that it was risky—what he was doing, what he was allowing himself to feel. For once, he was too caught up in winning her over.
The night before Bastian was set to arrive, he made a split second decision. He’d chosen tonight’s recipe with care, pushing himself outside of his comfort zone. It was a wonder he hadn’t ruined it. When he gathered everything together, the plate on the tray held enough for two.
He knocked on her door, annoyed by his own fidgeting.
“Come in,” Lily called. She stood near the sofa as if she’d been waiting. For him. He didn’t want to think too deeply on how much he liked the idea.
He covertly assessed her, taking in her body language and vitals. Her posture was rigid, fingers twisting together in front of her. Her heart beat faster at the sight of him. There was still panic in her scent, but not nearly as strong as usual.
“Good evening, Miss Shaw. I hope you don’t mind, I thought I’d try something different tonight. Apple fritters.”
Her lips parted at that.
He lowered the tray to display the stack of pastries and hot chocolate. Her eyes sparkled, darting over everything. “Oh…” she breathed. “That’s…”
“I haven’t tried them yet, but they smell divine. I assume they are edible.”
“You haven’t tried them?” She sounded more confident than usual, as if the shock of his statement had emboldened her.
“I have not.” He sounded more vulnerable than intended.
“Would you like…?” She trailed off, so he waited.
When she didn’t continue, he pushed down his disappointment—because it was fucking irritating that he should get so worked up over apple fritters—and calmly strolled across the room.
He set the tray in its usual spot, taking his time.
Lily’s throat cleared. “Would you like to stay and…and try one?”
He exhaled before realizing there had been breath in his lungs. “I would love to—if that’s acceptable?”
She hesitated. “It’s… It’s all right.”
Everything he did was intentional. The smile he offered to put her at ease, the way he seated himself slowly, so as not to startle her, the position of the tray closer to her side of the table, giving her the option to sit on the opposite end of the sofa.
All the while, he listened to her heartbeat, to each shallow breath, using it as a metric. He was careful, so careful.
He told himself to ignore the shrinking feeling in his chest as she pressed her side against the sofa’s arm. To be as far from him as possible. Because this was progress—huge progress.
“May I?” he asked, reaching for a fritter. She looked too nervous to eat, so he would break the ice. Warm apple filling and dough melted on his tongue. He hummed involuntarily. “That’s…better than I expected. Perhaps Vittorio secretly swapped mine for something hiding in the pantry.”
A breathy sound burst from her chest. It wasn’t quite a laugh. He didn’t care. Because it was the best sound he’d ever heard.
“Are you that insecure over your baking abilities?”
“Should I be?” He offered up the challenge.
She reached for one of the fritters. He watched the way her lips formed around the pastry, the way her eyes widened briefly and darted toward him before she chewed and swallowed. “It’s…really good.”
This time, there was nothing controlled about his smile. “Between you and me? Vittorio had to guide me through every step. Rather embarrassing, actually. You won’t tell anyone, will you? Zola would never let me hear the end of it.”
A little huff left her mouth before she devoured the remainder of the pastry. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Couldn’t ignore the satisfaction of seeing it disappear.
He finished a second. A pleased sigh left him as he leaned back, casually resting an arm over the sofa.
Another test, to see if that slight change might set her off.
Lily’s gaze frequently darted in his direction, never quite settling.
He wished she would just look at him, but they weren’t there yet.
She lifted the hot chocolate, humming with delight. “You really made this from scratch?”
He frowned. “Is there…another way that I’m missing?”
She let out another little breathy laugh—the second just this night. “Yeah, there’s packets. You just warm up the milk and sprinkle the powder in. Give it a mix and voila.”
He gaped at her. “You’re joking, right?”
She caught her lip between her teeth, fighting what looked like a smile. He couldn’t stop staring.
“I’m not,” she said at last, this time the words low and breathy.
He let out a playful growl. “Vittorio didn’t think to tell me that. I wonder why?”
She chuckled and the sound had him sitting straighter. Her cheeks reddened and she turned away to stare at the dark window. He couldn’t help but study her unabashedly.
“Is it better?” he heard himself ask.
“Is what better?” Her attention returned to him, but only for a brief moment. Even a mere second was better than nothing.
“My version. Or do you prefer the packets?”
“Your version, definitely.”
Something that might have been his heart gave an unexpected flutter. “Then it was worth it—the time it took to melt the chocolate into the milk.”
“Yes.” She lifted the mug to her mouth again, hiding a soft smile. This was more than he’d bargained for tonight. Far more.
Silence fell between them. He could feel his time with her drawing to a close. Better not to push his luck. So he said, “I wonder if I might seek your permission on something.”
“My…permission?”
It was impossible to miss the way her scent changed, sharpening toward fear and wariness. The way her heartbeat, which had almost returned to normal, sped up.
“I’ve got a meeting scheduled with someone important. May I host them here in the manor?”
Whatever she had been expecting, it was not this. He knew it the moment her vitals returned to normal. “You’re asking me?”
“You are an honored guest here. Part of my family—if you wish it. So, yes.”
“Oh…”
“But I’m also asking because I think you might enjoy meeting them. Two people, actually. A goblin and his mate, a renowned academic by the name of Dr. Eleanor Kennedy, from Walton University.”
“Oh!” Her eyes lit with the kind of delighted curiosity he’d never seen from her. Another victory.
“Zola has told you of the missing vampires?” She nodded. “Good. I’ve asked for their help. Dr. Kennedy specializes in magical artifacts.”
“Magical artifacts?” She leaned forward, fixed on him for the first time, giving him her undivided attention. He preened beneath her gaze. In fact, he wouldn’t mind if she looked at him like this all the time.
He cleared his throat. “Magical artifacts, yes. I’m flying them out. They’ll arrive tomorrow afternoon. Dr. Kennedy is human. I could use your help in making her feel welcome—assuming you are all right with that. Otherwise, I will arrange to meet somewhere in Braxton—“
“No! I mean.” She took a deep breath as if to calm herself, her excitement. “Yes. I’d… I’d like to meet her. She knows about all of this? Supernatural stuff, I mean?”
“She does. Her mate is a goblin.”
“What do goblins look like?” A measure of hesitance crept back into her voice.
“I can assure you, they don’t look like little green creatures yay high,” he drawled, motioning with his hand. When she didn’t laugh at his joke, he said, “I promise you that it will be completely safe. But if at any time you feel uncomfortable, I want you to tell me and I will remedy that.”
She nodded, keeping her lips pressed together.
“Thank you,” he said, slowly rising to his feet. “I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“Oh. You’re going?”
He hesitated, taking in her…disappointment? No, that couldn’t be right. “I am afraid I have a few matters to settle for tomorrow,” he forced himself to say. “Good night, Miss Shaw.”
It was a lie. He simply didn’t want to subject her to his presence any longer than necessary. He was across the room, his hand on the doorknob, when she called for him. “Laurent?”
The sound of his name on her lips made him freeze. He couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to. “Yes?” He kept his back to her, staring at the door, picking out each detail in the wood.
“Thank you for the sheet music.”
For the second time that night, his heartbeat changed. This time, a faint warmth accompanied it. Softly, he said, “You’re welcome, Lily.”
Then he went in search of something to distract himself. The library was blessedly empty when he entered. That was one benefit to clearing out his house. He encountered very few souls these days.
Lily’s journal was still sitting out with her things.
She hadn’t moved it since he’d left it for her.
Shamelessly snooping, he flipped it open, staring down at the lines and lines of equations.
His brow furrowed, trying and failing to follow what she’d written.
It looked like gibberish when he knew it was anything but.
She was brilliant, fucking brilliant, and he’d nearly killed her.
His lips pressed together.
She’d filled nearly half the journal already. He’d get her ten more, or even a hundred if she wished it. If it meant keeping her here.
Close to him.
The following morning rushed by. He visited the kitchen, only to find all of his apple fritters gone.
He growled with irritation. “I would have liked a few.”
Vittorio merely shrugged, explaining that Zola had enjoyed an entire plate of them after she’d gotten back last night.
Their guests arrived mid-afternoon. He stood on the manor steps, waiting to greet them. Lily’s rich vanilla and floral scent hit him from behind, making his fingers twitch. Zola emerged, arm in arm with her. Hassan and Marco emerged thereafter, flanking him.