Lies and Misdemeanours

Hetty rolled her eyes and bent down to look at Simon, but couldn’t move him because Charlie was lying half over him. While she was used to manhandling her brother, and would think nothing of dragging his heavy limbs out of the way so that she could close the door, she could hardly do that to a man she didn’t know; especially to someone as huge as Simon’s new friend.

“Can either of you two get off your backsides?” Hetty demanded in disgust when a cool blast of air reminded her that the door was still open. She glanced out into the darkness, and drew her shawl righter around her shoulders with a shiver before she turned her attention back to the men on the floor.

Simon’s only response was a loud snore.

“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” she snapped.

Thankfully, Charlie didn’t appear to be as inebriated as his friend because he at least had the courtesy of trying to move his long limbs out of the way.

“Not dead yet,” he grinned proudly, and began to push and shove his way over Simon until he landed on his back at her feet. Once there, he peered up at her through the gloom of the darkened hallway.

“Helloooo,” he cooed.

“Hello yourself,” Hetty murmured wryly.

In spite of the fact that she was cold and tired, she struggled to bite back a smile in return. Instead, she shook her head at him chidingly as she pointed accusingly to her brother.

“He is likely to be there all night if I don’t get him moved. Do you think you can get yourself into the sitting room?” She nodded to the room beside them.

Charlie squinted at her and watched her luscious lips move, but his mind was focused more on trying to understand when the world had been blessed with a beautiful pixie rather than listen to the words she had spoken.

Her wild tangle of luxurious hair cascaded around her shoulders in a silken halo of delight that framed her delicate oval face, and seemed to highlight her brilliant blue of her sparkling eyes. The combination was enthralling; entrancing; utterly wonderful. He was in love.

“Of course I can,” Charlie boasted proudly, determined to do whatever she asked of him.

A dark frown marred his brow as he pushed and shoved at random limbs. He eventually lurched to his feet only to sway alarmingly as the world began to spin around him.

“Alright?” Hetty asked, but knew that he wasn’t given that he was actually rocking on his feet.

“Uh-ho,” he muttered. He stared at his feet in dismay, but couldn’t get them to move the wa

y they used to. Unfortunately, with his balance not what it used to be either, he began to topple forward.

Hetty grabbed hold of his arm as he began to stagger backward and tried to hold him steady, but his size and weight was too great for her.

“Come on, this way,” she muttered as she tried to steer him none-too-gently into the sitting room.

The fire was still lit, and bathed the room in a cosy amber glow which afforded her with enough light to be able to make sure that neither of them fell on their faces before they reached the thick rug before the hearth. She nudged the cat out of the way and nodded to the spot on the floor.

“You can sleep here,” she muttered. “It isn’t much, but I don’t have a prayer of getting you upstairs.”

Her heart was pounding, but she wasn’t sure whether it was because of the exertion of the last few moments, or the strange sensations he wrought upon her simply by standing so close to her.

“Heaven has given me an angel, you know,” he confided huskily.

“Really?” Hetty asked. She tried desperately to ignore the shiver of awareness that swept through her when his gaze ran over her from the top of her head to the tips of her chilled toes.

Hetty coughed uncomfortably, and tried to convince herself that the strange feelings, deep in the pit of her stomach, was most probably because it was gone ten o’clock at night, and she was cold. They certainly had nothing to do with Simon’s new friend who was, by far, the most handsome man she had ever met in her entire life.

She wouldn’t be affected so profoundly by a total stranger; even a gorgeous one. Could she?

“Yes.” Charlie gently touched the soft curls of her hair with a curious finger, and leaned forward until their noses practically touched before she could say anything.

In spite of his rather disturbing nearness, Hetty didn’t feel threatened at all, and stood perfectly still while she stared into his eyes. She was captivated by the light flecks in the dark orbs his beautiful dark grey eyes which, at that moment, were more slumberous than lecherous. Her curiosity was piqued further by the fact that although she was taller than most, the top of her head still only came to his shoulder and, up close, the width of his shoulders seemed to block everything else in the room out.

He was powerful. Tall, dark, handsome; strong. His magnetising presence seemed to wrap around her so temptingly that a soft sigh escaped her before she could stop it.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered.