“Egotist.” She gave his arse a light smack. “Don’t distract me from my thoroughly satiated state, or I shall be annoyed with you again.”
“Pardon? Why is it you were annoyed?”
She pressed her face into his neck and yawned, her warm breath rushing over his skin. “I can’t remember,” she mumbled.
Max rolled his eyes. He brushed his hand over her hair. “Sleep, my love.” He kept stroking the silky waves until her breathing slowed, and it was clear she slept. Max grabbed hold of the edge of the counterpane and pulled it over them. She may wake in the morning with all her walls back in place. But he’d tumbled them for tonight, and he would scale them again even if it meant he had to flirt with every maiden in Marbury.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Olivia smoothed anerrant hair back into place before knocking on the door to the study. She hoped she hadn’t upset Max by leaving him sleeping in the early morning hours. She hadn’t wanted to be caught sneaking from his room by servants doing early morning chores. And truthfully, she had needed time to gather her feelings. Last night had been astounding. Max’s possessive words had been thrilling and oh so dangerous. She wanted badly to be his, to let herself be claimed. But she knew that Max wanted more than for them to be lovers. He wanted, no demanded, her heart as well. The question was could she risk loving and losing once again?
“Come in.”
She poked her head inside. Max sat behind the desk. He rose and gestured her over.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” She cautiously crossed the room, trying to decipher his expression. “I’m sorry for leaving so early this morning. I wanted to get back to my rooms before the servants were up. And you looked so peaceful sleeping.” His hair curled damp against his collar, and his face was freshly shaven. She reached up to brush her fingers along his jaw.
“I expected you would run away.” He gazed down at her. She hated the guarded look in his eyes.
She went onto her toes to brush her lips across his. “Can we go slowly? I feel as though I have tumbled over a waterfall. What’s between us is exhilarating but also terrifying.”
He arched one eyebrow. “Terrifying?” But then he smiled, and he kissed the tip of her nose. “We can take our time. I’m not going anywhere.” He sat and pulled her into his lap. His lips nuzzled a spot just below her ear, and she hummed at the tingle of pleasure it evoked. “But I insist on kissing you whenever I want. I noticed all the mistletoe was gone and wasn’t sure if I should take it personally.”
Olivia frowned. “I may have been in a small pique yesterday at the thought of you kissing anyone else under the mistletoe.”
“I believe I am quite enjoying your jealousy.” He squeezed her hip. “Tell me more about how mad you are for me.”
“Pffft,” she sniffed. “And don’t be kissing me in front of your mother. She still wishes you to court Susanna Dearborn. For now, let’s keep our love affair to ourselves.”
“I’m not promising anything.” He captured her mouth with a brief scorching kiss that left her breathless when he pulled away.
Olivia cleared her throat. She darted her gaze around in an attempt to escape the heated determination in his. She spotted the letter from Henry peeking out from under the edge of a ledger. Reaching for it, she slid it out from underneath. “Why haven’t you opened your letter from Henry?”
Max’s expression shuttered, and he shrugged. It was her turn to give him a searching look. He lifted her off his lap to her feet, and she leaned against the edge of the desk. “Now who is running away?”
He sighed. “At first, I was still too angry with Henry. And now that I know the truth, I am afraid of what recriminations it might hold. Henry was my best friend, and I don’t know if I am ready to hear what he has to say from beyond the grave.”
“I don’t believe it will hold recriminations. If anything, it may hold instructions for you about your inheritance. Henry was disappointed in your disappearance from our lives, but he loved you.”
“Perhaps,” he said noncommittally.
“I plan to open the shop this morning. Would you like to come to town with me?”
“Yes. I’d love to get a closer look at the items in the attic. My curiosity won’t be satisfied until I know what’s in those wooden boxes.”
“Excellent.” She leaned in close. “You know the shop still has its mistletoe in place.”
Max smiled. “Let’s go make use of it.”
*
Olivia busied herselfwith a display of character cards for Twelfth Night. The colorfully drawn cards each depicted a favorite character from beloved plays, especially the Harlequin. Hostesses would pass out a card to each partygoer to assign them a character for the evening.
She removed the travel books from the window and replaced them with the display of cards. Epiphany was only a week away. This year, Lord and Lady Dearborn were hosting a Twelfth Night party, and she was happy to relinquish her annual duties as hostess for the revelry and just be a guest.
The sound of boxes scraping across the floor came from the back of the shop. Olivia walked back and saw Max’s feet on the steps to the attic. “How’s it going up there?”
More of him appeared as he made his way carefully down the stairs, a large wooden crate in his arms. “You won’t believe the contents of these boxes,” he exclaimed.