“You apologized to me the other day,” she pointed out, trying to ignore the way his closeness made her pulse jump.

“An aberration. I assure you I will do my best to not let it happen again.”

“I suppose that must be convenient to never have to apologize,” Sara retorted. “It saves you the pain of having a conscience. Have you no consideration for the effect your actions have on others?”

Something flared in his eyes and he tilted his head. “Has anyone told you how you look when you are angry?”

She huffed. “I am never angry.”

His brows raised and the corners of his mouth tugged slightly. “It appears you and I both experience occasional lapses of our general characters, then.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You think you are far superior for having lived in London, sir. We may not be as worldly or have any of the town bronze you so proudly display, but we are decent people here. Your wit, your flip comments and jibes will gain you no footing, no respect in our little town; that may work in London, but not here. We judge a man based on his character and on how he treats others. We and every other decent person in Christendom live by the Biblical teaching that we are to treat others the way we want to be treated.”

Mr. Grant took another step toward her. This time he was so close Sara had to tilt her head back to look at him. He met her eyes, the glint in them matching his sardonic smile. “Does that mean you are going to kiss me?”

Sara gasped.

He continued. “I really wouldn’t object. Perhaps not quite here,” he allowed with a quick glance around. “I prefer not to have an audience. But if you are amenable . . .”

Sara turned her back on him, holding herself stiffly. She could not look at the man. She took several deep breaths to calm herself, her mind reeling from her uncharacteristic confidence and the flash of awareness his words had brought. “I can see now, sir, that it is not town bronze I see but a rusty, tarnished soul.”

She heard him move and heat flushed down her back where he pressed himself against her. She closed her eyes, the sensations from the other day returning and she gripped the edge of the shelf, fighting the urge to lean back into him, to feel him more completely.

His hot breath caressed her ear. “I would settle for you dreaming of me,” he whispered. “It seems only fair as you visit my dreams every night, Nymph.”

Sara’s eyes flew open when she felt his tongue touch her ear with a sensual stroke. Not looking back, she marched away from him, needing space between them.

“Wouldn’t that be treating me how I treated you?” he called out after her, laughter tingeing his words.

Sara didn’t stop marching until she was out of the shop, post forgotten, and in the church.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

* * *

Sara pulled herself up, gasping for breath. Water sluiced down her body, her hair sticking to her neck. She gripped the side of the tub, her body shaking from the freezing water, using her free hand to wipe the water trailing down her face.

She had to stop. Constantly thinking about it wasn’t helping her. The water would help. The freezing water would help her to stop thinking about Mr. Grant. It had worked before and it would work now.

It had to.

She couldn’t keep thinking about Mr. Grant and his chilly blue eyes that warmed to hot springs right before he kissed her. And his lips were anything but cold—hot bricks had been pressed against her mouth, skillfully used to send her own temperature skyrocketing.

And in the shop, when his tongue touched her ear . . .

Hussy!

Sara covered her face. How could she have enjoyed such a thing? Why would he even think of doing that? Mr. Pomeroy would never consider doing something like it.

The thought of the vicar sent more waves of confusion over her. How could she be thinking of Mr. Grant and his tongue when it was the vicar she should be thinking about? She shouldn’t be wondering about why he was dreaming about her and she shouldn’t be secretly anticipating when he appeared in hers.

You are shameless, girl!

Sara plunged herself under the freezing water again, but Mr. Grant still persisted in her thoughts.

Goddamnit! His clatter of his cane on the floor ricocheted off the library walls when he threw it at the sofa. He had meant for it to land quietly on the cushions, but as with everything else in his life at this present moment, he bloody well made a mess of it all.

Tags: Ellie Macdonald Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net