looked at her a bit shyly, but with budding confidence, and stroked his hand through her hair. “Give me one more minute, Rhia,” he said softly, pressing his lips to hers, reveling in her taste. He may have been young, but he knew his own heart enough to know it wanted only her.
Her pulse jumped in that still unfamiliar way, giving her a moment of hesitation and distress, but still underneath it all it was simple delight.
“I have to go,” she murmured against his mouth, smiling even as she pulled away.
“Duty calls, as usual,” he grumbled, though his expression was playful.
She stood and stared down at him as she brushed at her skirt. “Duty will always be calling, Liam. I just choose to listen when it does.”
She swept from the room, leaving behind the distinctive scent of sage and vanilla. He laid back down on the pillows and closed his eyes, his mouth curving in a contented and lazy smile.
Riding on the bliss from being with Liam, Rhiannon headed to the Greenhouse, clutching the novel Emma to her chest like it was her most treasured possession.
She felt lighter and freer than she had in ages, and couldn’t believe her own daring at pursuing whatever it was she was doing with Liam. But in her mind she was just experimenting, and as her father was apt to say, experiments were key to creating anything worthwhile.
As she turned the corner, stepping into the Greenhouse with her lips still curved in a smile, she spotted her father standing over his drawings, scrawling rapid notations in his small, precise handwriting. He was too involved in what he was doing to look at her.
He waved his free hand in the air absently. “Get to work on the population charts, Rhiannon.”
His voice was distracted and curt, and she felt her smile vanish in an instant as she realized he was in one of his moods. It was rare for her father to be anything but civil and polite with her, but when he was irritated or upset he was downright unpleasant to be around.
Determined not to interrupt him, she hung her bag up on the coat rack and stowed the book away without a sound. She went to one of her father’s large boards covered in charts, and selected the one on animal populations. Unpinning it, she brought it with her to her work table, took a seat and began to update the chart.
The Greenhouse was silent enough to hear a pin drop, and she soon lost herself in her work.
Roughly an hour later, her father pushed away from his drafting board, grabbed the large vellum sheet he’d been drawing on, and swiftly tore it in half.
She glanced up, startled, and watched with wary eyes as he tore the paper up again, and again, until nothing was left but shreds. His face was cold and calculating, his eyes hard as steel, and she felt a shiver race down her spine. This mood was a particularly bad one…
Without saying a word, he grabbed another sheet of paper and slammed it down on the surface of his table. He whirled around suddenly and stalked toward her, his arms crossed over his chest as he stopped in front of her. When she met his eyes she felt her entire body freeze from his stare.
“Let me see the chart,” he said sternly, holding out his hand. She lowered her eyes and handed it to him, her heart thudding in her chest.
Rohan looked at the chart, but his eyes could hardly focus on the paper. This was merely a way to distract himself from his frustration. He knew he could trust Rhiannon to be thorough and precise with her work, but he had to do something to take his mind off the impending anniversary just days away…
Handing it back to her, he crossed his arms again and took a deep breath. She accepted the chart numbly, still refusing to meet his eyes.
“Look at me, Rhiannon,” he ordered, part of him knowing he was being too hard on her, while the rest of him embraced his role as both educator and father. She tilted her head up, her eyes slowly rising. “You only have a year or so left of study with your mother, and then you
Her pulse jumped in that still unfamiliar way, giving her a moment of hesitation and distress, but still underneath it all it was simple delight.
“I have to go,” she murmured against his mouth, smiling even as she pulled away.
“Duty calls, as usual,” he grumbled, though his expression was playful.
She stood and stared down at him as she brushed at her skirt. “Duty will always be calling, Liam. I just choose to listen when it does.”
She swept from the room, leaving behind the distinctive scent of sage and vanilla. He laid back down on the pillows and closed his eyes, his mouth curving in a contented and lazy smile.
Riding on the bliss from being with Liam, Rhiannon headed to the Greenhouse, clutching the novel Emma to her chest like it was her most treasured possession.
She felt lighter and freer than she had in ages, and couldn’t believe her own daring at pursuing whatever it was she was doing with Liam. But in her mind she was just experimenting, and as her father was apt to say, experiments were key to creating anything worthwhile.
As she turned the corner, stepping into the Greenhouse with her lips still curved in a smile, she spotted her father standing over his drawings, scrawling rapid notations in his small, precise handwriting. He was too involved in what he was doing to look at her.
He waved his free hand in the air absently. “Get to work on the population charts, Rhiannon.”
His voice was distracted and curt, and she felt her smile vanish in an instant as she realized he was in one of his moods. It was rare for her father to be anything but civil and polite with her, but when he was irritated or upset he was downright unpleasant to be around.
Determined not to interrupt him, she hung her bag up on the coat rack and stowed the book away without a sound. She went to one of her father’s large boards covered in charts, and selected the one on animal populations. Unpinning it, she brought it with her to her work table, took a seat and began to update the chart.
The Greenhouse was silent enough to hear a pin drop, and she soon lost herself in her work.
Roughly an hour later, her father pushed away from his drafting board, grabbed the large vellum sheet he’d been drawing on, and swiftly tore it in half.
She glanced up, startled, and watched with wary eyes as he tore the paper up again, and again, until nothing was left but shreds. His face was cold and calculating, his eyes hard as steel, and she felt a shiver race down her spine. This mood was a particularly bad one…
Without saying a word, he grabbed another sheet of paper and slammed it down on the surface of his table. He whirled around suddenly and stalked toward her, his arms crossed over his chest as he stopped in front of her. When she met his eyes she felt her entire body freeze from his stare.
“Let me see the chart,” he said sternly, holding out his hand. She lowered her eyes and handed it to him, her heart thudding in her chest.
Rohan looked at the chart, but his eyes could hardly focus on the paper. This was merely a way to distract himself from his frustration. He knew he could trust Rhiannon to be thorough and precise with her work, but he had to do something to take his mind off the impending anniversary just days away…
Handing it back to her, he crossed his arms again and took a deep breath. She accepted the chart numbly, still refusing to meet his eyes.
“Look at me, Rhiannon,” he ordered, part of him knowing he was being too hard on her, while the rest of him embraced his role as both educator and father. She tilted her head up, her eyes slowly rising. “You only have a year or so left of study with your mother, and then you
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