How to Marry an Earl (A Cinderella Society 1)

“I’d rather be here with you.”

She knew it must be polite flirting, but she still felt a thrill, like sneaking cake in the kitchen when everyone else was asleep.

“You aren’t going to giggle?” he asked with a sideling glance.

She arched an eyebrow. “You weren’t particularly funny.”

He grinned at that, a slow happy smile that turned her bones to pudding. Possibly her brain too. “Persephone, you are refreshing.” He lifted an oak branch to let them pass into the grove.

“So you’ve said. Like tonic water,” she pointed out drily.

“No.” The branch dropped, letting the green swallow them up. “Not like tonic water.” His fierce gaze snagged hers like a thorn, all beauty and danger. She could smell roses again. She couldn’t move, had no wish to. She could see the flecks of green in his grey eyes, still holding her as securely as his hands might, if he would only touch her. The rustle of leaves receded; the dappled sunlight disappeared. If she took a deep breath, her lips would brush his. His breath was warm on her cheek. It was almost enough.

Never enough.

He swallowed, his jaw tightening. He eased out of the trees, breaking the spell that smouldered between them. He lifted the branches again, as polite as a footman. “If I am refreshing,” she murmured. “Then you, sir, are confusing.”

“Yes, I imagine that I am.” There was sadness under the sardonic tone, quite gone before she could properly excavate it.